At the end of The Life Aquatic Bill Murray tearfully pardons the jaguar shark that ate his friend and, in the film's emotional climax, his crew members all reach out to touch him with a gesture of comfort. The moment does not work. Anderson hasn't done the legwork necessary to earn it, such tender and unreserved sentiment. At best we wince with slight embarrassment and at worst we snicker.
The film adaptation of The Road is compromised by too many such moments. The ashen world has been sincerely apocalypted by the production design team, and we mutant veterans of Fallout nod in appreciation, but instead of total immersion into the reality of hell we are cheated by single-setup camerawork and a fatally impatient clip; result is only a little more involving than watching a bonus disc slideshow of concept art stills. And so good performances are left out in the cold. Take another look at how the Coen brothers managed to adapt McCarthy in No Country for Old Men: Pacing is everything. The pauses between the notes is where the art resides.
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