Starring: Tom Hanks, Paul Newman, Jude Law

Sunday used to be steak day in the Kozik household. Mom Kozik would cook up steaks, usually in the broiler, rarely on the grill, and when they came out, they were pretty rugged imitations of their previous form. Shoes boiled with extra laces for good measure, that's how tough they were. But ya know what? It was steak. It wasn't some ritzy steakhouse; hell, it wasn't even Outback. But it was steak, it wasn't meatloaf, and I was happy.

Road to Perdition is Momma K's steak on a Sunday afternoon. Although not a perfect film, it's so far superior to your typical weekly fare as to stand tall among midgets. Perhaps the reason it's not a truly great film is that the story it tells is simply structurally unable to be great. In telling a Greek tragedy, you already lose the element of suspense. Everyone knows how the story will – has to – end, including the characters in the story. ESPECIALLY the characters. The people populating Road's grim, Depression-era universe shuffle along in Calvinistic surrender to their pre-destined fates. In today's America, free will is often held as the greatest of all values, but in a world of honor (i.e., the world of the Hollywood gangster), loyalty is prided above all else. When that loyalty is sacrificed for immediate gain, well, there's only one solution to the problem: everybody has to die in a hail of bullets. Hey, it's only business.

Tom Hanks plays Michael O'Sullivan, an enforcer for a minor Mob family in middle-of-nowhere Illinois (Rock Island, methinks, but it's never made clear). As mob patriarch John Rooney, Paul Newman rules the town with a velvet glove, playing the kindly old mobster part as a distinguished gentleman. In many respects, this is one of those "gold watch" roles, the kind where they trot out some great Hollywood icon in order to wring one last epic performance out of him or her. Hey, whatever works, I was very glad to have the old hand along. Rooney and O'Sullivan have a father/son relationship that at first seems idyllic, but eventually becomes more complex after O'Sullivan crosses paths with Rooney's eager but estranged heir, Connor (Daniel Craig). Through a series of doublecrossings, Connor soon has O'Sullivan on the run, and Road becomes a tale of revenge.

"Anyone here remember Bosom Buddies? No, I didn't think so."

What makes matters worse is that O'Sullivan isn't by himself in his run from the Mob. His son Michael Jr., played by relative newcomer Tyler Hoechlin, at first thinks his father is a hero, ten-feet tall. Sure, he carries a gun to work, and he's awfully laconic around the dinner table, but hey, it's the Depression, people were different back then. To reinforce the hero-worship angle further, Michael Jr. is constantly reading Lone Ranger adventures, and regardless of what unsavory things his father has to do, he ignores them in the frail hope that yes, indeed, the elder Michael is a decent man doing just deeds, just like the Ranger in his comics.

Well, that all changes after Michael Jr. witnesses his father kill a man, and his disillusionment paralyzes him. A series of brutal events follow that cement the drastic change in Michael Jr.'s perception of his father. Yet, after they go on the run from Rooney (who enlists the aid of Al Capone in tracking down O'Sullivan), father and son slowly forge a closer bond with each other. The junior O'Sullivan discovers that black-and-white may have little meaning when it comes to matters of family, while the elder O'Sullivan searches for a way – any way – to exact revenge upon the Rooneys while still saving Michael Jr. from following in his father's criminal footsteps.

"Who here wants some salad dressing?

Unfortunately, the big setup really doesn't go anywhere we haven't been before. The movie exists to tell us that fathers, even evil ones, can still love their children, even when they will be, quite literally, the death of them. While that's hardly a revelation, the texture of the film is wonderful to behold. Crafted by American Beauty-director Sam Mendes with the lens of cinematographer Conrad Hall, Road to Perdition is to filmmaking what fine mahogany is to woodworking. An excellent score, sumptuous art design, and invisible effects work flesh out a production that feels note-perfect. From the very first frame you feel like you're in a cold and bleak Illinois winter, circa 1931. Most filmgoers who take the art seriously often complain that movies today often demonstrate the triumph of style over substance. I'll take the style of Road over most of what passes today for "substance," even if by design it can't possibly satisfy you as much as one might hope.

Road falls flat for several reasons. Tom Hanks, while still delivering a great performance, is strangely muted here. Perhaps it's a character trait, perhaps it's an accommodation made by America's favorite good guy playing someone who's not-so-good. However, under the rules of movie conventions, the audience can still cheer for Hanks even as he kills, because after all, he's only killing other mobsters, so he's actually doing larger society a favor, right? The film might have been stronger if we saw more evil in Hanks, instead of just the tortured soul walking the middle of the road.

Less excusable but still understandable is the casting of Hoechlin as Michael Jr. Child actors are most often a binary proposition – either they're good, or they're bad. Hoechlin is okay, but he just couldn't connect with the story, and I didn't really buy him as Hanks' son. Newman, however, is definitely a pro, and his scenes with Hanks are a joy for anyone who appreciates how the best acting is often a team effort. Look for Hanks reaction to the ultimate of insults from Newman in the basement of a church – Newman has to say what he does, regardless of whether he was a mobster or a plumber; it just means a lot more than a stopped up toilet in this case. Also great is Jude Law as a truly bizarre hitman for Capone's mob, a wobbly shiftless man with rotten teeth and vanishing hair who enjoys photographing his victims, either before death or soon after. In his bowler hat he looks like he's part of a meth-shelter's theater group doing a version of A Clockwork Orange.

"First person to hum a few bars of 'Freeze Frame' gets their photo free!"

There are a number of truly mesmerizing scenes in Road that, while they don't add up to a satisfying whole, are certainly awesome in isolation. Two stand out in particular. The first, with Jude Law and Tom Hanks sitting across each other in a roadside diner, both aware of who the other is but neither willing to tip their hand, is a model for creating tension in a scene (gotta love the well-placed bead of sweat on Tom's brow). The second is the gunfight on a rain-swept street that's filmed in silence and shadows until the final tommy-gun burst echoes throughout the theater. It's riveting stuff, an emotional release to accent the return of sound.

Great scenes, great production values, and great acting should add up to a great movie, but alas, the film kinda chugs along the rails to a destination we all know it had to go to. I can sympathize with being beholden to the conventions of storytelling, but in the end the film surrenders to the conventions of movie cliche. But if you'll pardon the pun, what a wonderful, beautiful road it is to travel, and you'd be remiss if you missed taking it.

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Things to watch out for: The seamless computer effects in creating 1930's Chicago; my hometown rarely looked so alive today, let alone back then. And flatland Illinois never looked so desolate. Finally, see if you groan during one gunfight where it becomes clearly obvious that no matter what the danger, you never leave your enemy alive at the end of the fight.