Forgiveness is something we all seek at different points in our lives, but which we know is not always guaranteed, and even when it is received, it doesn’t necessarily mean that the past is immediately erased. The actions that led to that particular act of contrition can follow someone like a spectre, lingering in their minds until the very end, to the point where even the most sincere acts of forgiveness cannot entirely eradicate one’s personal history. This is one of the many ideas woven throughout Road to Perdition, the first entry into the acclaimed series of graphic novels by Max Allan Collins, which is set in and around Chicago in 1931, and follows the trials and tribulations of a career criminal working as a hitman and enforcer for arguably the city’s most powerful mobster (with whom he has a powerful connection), and his son as they go in search for the culprits responsible for murdering half their family, which proves to be a lot closer to home than they expected, leading both men down a path of self-reflection and existential despair that teaches them quite a bit about the world in which they live. The text was an immediate sensation, and quickly had the rights sold not longer after its release, with the film adaptation coming on behalf of Sam Mendes, following his acclaimed debut American Beauty with another deeply unsettling glimpse into American culture that is layered with complex ideas, some of which needed a lot more work to be fully-realized as well as they are in the original graphic novel. Bold in some areas, while lacking nuance in others, Road to Perdition is a mixture of merits and shortcomings, and while it is difficult to form a close relationship with this film or its characters, certain elements do pique our curiosity, even if only momentarily and through some one-dimensional means, leading to a film that yearned to be a more substantial effort, but ends up being a far less consequential affair than we would have expected based on a cursory glance, in spite of some genuinely good components that allow it to at least be marginally successful in some ways.

As a director, Mendes seems to be drawn to stories that serve dual purposes, being about specific geographical and cultural concepts, as well as the people who dwell within. Each of his films tends to be quite different, but some elements bind them together, which is this exact quality that first drew attention towards the director and his unique skills. Much like American Beauty, which was a darkly comedic indictment on the flawed facade of suburbia, Road to Perdition is also about the broken promises of capitalism, both films being fascinating deconstructions of the American Dream (and we can even consider the forthcoming Jarhead as the third entry into this unofficial trilogy about masculinity and the role it plays in defining this supposedly Norman Rockwell-esque depiction of the country at different points in time), and how it is built on a legacy of violence and betrayal, whether at the personal or societal level. Throughout the film, Mendes and screenwriter David Self, who was tasked with transposing Collins’ incredible story into a more cinematic format, are addressing the corruption that dominated the culture at the time, showing how society was rotten right down to its core, seemingly becoming increasingly more unhinged as more people subscribed to this myopic idea of success, which was defined solely by the amount of power and wealth one possessed, with both being equally symbiotic and feeding into the other, creating a cycle of violence into which anyone can become a participant, but where escaping it is almost entirely impossible, for reasons that are made very clear throughout the film. Collins’ primary approach with the first volume, from which this film was adapted, was to look at the past through the eyes of the relationship between a father and his son – violence is no longer a source of excitement or rebellion for the older Michael Sullivan, but instead has become his vocation, something that simply factors into his day-to-day routine, to the point where he doesn’t even realize the extent of his actions until the gun is turned on his own family. The examination of their relationship, and how the older of the pair finds himself in a precarious position of trying to avoid allowing his son into this cycle of violence, while still resorting to desperate measures to ensure their survival, is fascinating and sets the foundation for the entire film.

Considering he was responsible for shepherding both Kevin Spacey and Annette Bening to career-best performances only a couple of years prior, its not surprising that Mendes would have the pick of the litter when it came to casting his next film, since not only were studios clamouring for his talents to direct some of their tentpoles, but actors were fascinated by what was a strong set of skills, drawn from his years of working in theatre, where he learned the craft of working closely with his performers to maximise their skills and honour the material. His film direction took a vastly different route than the theatricality for which he was known on stage, so it stands to reason that he’d still be a figure of intrigue for even the biggest stars at the time, a couple of whom populate this very film. Tom Hanks was unimpeachably the most respected actor of his generation at the time, and Road to Perdition came about at a point where he was firmly implanted as one of the most bankable leading men at the time, to the point where he started to take risks, especially in roles that allowed him to step out of his more congenial, moral persona that he had used as the foundation for several terrific films over the years. Unfortunately, as much as he tries, his performance as a man who has to balance between a cold-blooded hitman and a dedicated father to a son he wishes to guide away from a life of crime is not entirely convincing. Hanks is a very gifted actor, but he also struggles to emancipate himself from his gentler persona, to the point where he feels out of place in this role, and doesn’t manage to sell many of the more complex moments, but not for a lack of effort. It’s a fine performance, but one that perhaps should have been handed to someone who fit the constraints slightly better. The more effective performances are found in the supporting cast, such as in the case of Paul Newman (in his final on-screen credit), who perfectly captures both the sinister malevolence and gentle candour of this mobster who is somehow seen as both a pillar of his community, and the ultimate cause of its destruction. No one could command the screen quite like Newman, and while the part does exist as more of a motif than being fully-formed as a character of his own, he still delivers a spellbinding, compelling performance that reminds us of his exceptional gifts, being one of the true highlights of this film.

Unfortunately, Road to Perdition is a film with several very notable flaws, which become more prominent as we venture away from the themes and the characterisation, and instead look at the actual tangible qualities that define the film. Mendes has stated that he was attracted to this material based on how it was the antithesis of the verbose, dialogue-heavy American Beauty, and an opportunity to do something more visual, as well as driven by the atmosphere, an understandable element that is unfortunately not particularly effective under his direction. The film is exceptionally well-made, and the photography by Conrad L. Hall (in his final work before his untimely passing) showcases the cities and rural areas in which this film takes place exceptionally well, putting so much detail into absolutely every frame. Yet, there is still something missing from the film, which is a strong emotional foundation. Mendes is a gifted director and he certainly possesses good technical skills, but his films have always tended to suffer from a lack of heart (to the point where efforts like Away We Go and Empire of Light are seen as failures for how they are such heavy-handed attempts to over-compensate for the coldness of his other films), and while not every filmmaker needs to be attuned to the emotional core of their stories to a particularly notable extent, a film like Road to Perdition simply cannot sustain itself on the story and how it is technically realized, and the absence of much emotional substance is ultimately quite detrimental. This cold, clinical approach has worked for Mendes in other films, but it is profoundly out of place here, with the entire production feeling lacklustre as a result of not having much in terms of clear resonance. No amount of technical mastery can replace the vacancy left by the heart that should have been placed right at the centre of the film, and ultimately, it all begins to fall apart, being more of a heavy-handed morality tale than the sprawling epic it was aiming to be at the outset.

There are certainly many layers that constitute Road to Perdition, a film that is perhaps better in theory than it is in practice, although it’s certainly not entirely vacant in terms of merits. Mendes was understandably still finding his footing at the time – he was beyond coveted by executives who were focused on posturing him as the next major filmmaker, so its understandable that his follow-up would pale in comparison, regardless of the subject matter, since peaking at the very start is never beneficial to any artist, especially one who has always struggled to craft his own authorial identity, his voice being more defined by the people with whom he collaborates, rather than being viewed as an auteur in his own right. Needless to say, Road to Perdition doesn’t even come close to reaching the heights of either the director’s previous work or the many other similarly themed crime dramas produced at the time, which is one of the reasons it feels slightly lacking. The visual detail is astonishing, with the design of everything from the cityscapes to the costumes being exceptional, and the story being told is fascinating. It begins to unspool when it comes to adding nuance to these components, which are certainly not aligned with Mendes’ talents, and which is made even more prominent by how hollow so much of this film feels, despite it coming from what appears to be a genuine place of curiosity on the part of everyone involved. Not at all a failure, but rather a middle-of-the-road crime drama that doesn’t have much beneath the surface, Road to Perdition is ultimately a solid but unremarkable drama that has good elements, but not enough skill to put them together with any real cohesion or attention to detail.