After a hefty delay of roughly one year, and pre-screening murmurs that the tone of the book had been muted by studio interference, fans of Cormac McCarthy’s 2006 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel The Road can rest easy; this bleak cinematic odyssey is every bit the affecting and thematically conscious piece of work that its paperback counterpart was. The Road is one of the best films of 2009, and a sure Academy Award contender in several categories.

The film follows two unnamed protagonists; a man (Viggo Mortensen), and his young son (Kodi Smit-McPhee), as they venture across a desolate, post-apocalyptic American landscape, which has been ravaged by an unnamed disaster of some sort. In attempting to reach the coast in search of food and shelter, they come across various oddities, from cannibalistic savages to gun-toting hunters, and must contend with the eventuality that their world is coming to an end.

With a minimal premise that has repeatedly been referred to as “unfilmable”, director John Hillcoat certainly had his work cut out for him with this project, but as he proved with his skilful meditation on the Western genre, The Proposition, there are few better equipped to depict this level of abandon and disillusionment, not only with regard to the physical world, but also spiritually and morally. It is a world bereft of its sense of humanity, and as a result, as Mortensen’s character says himself, every day is greyer than the one before it.

With the artfully drab landscapes and abundance of grey skies, grey buildings, and grey everything, one wouldn’t be surprised to assume that CGI has played a part in the creation of this soul-destroying landscape. However, with clever shooting of areas of New Orleans drastically damaged by Hurricane Katrina, Hillcoat has created an organic world that is ominously empty and supernaturally bleak. The film’s colour palette is a touch plain, yes, but it aids in painting the bigger picture, of a world that has lost all of its vitality with the exception of the dimly burning spirit of one bewildered child that has been horrifically robbed of his innocence.

The film’s ultimate make-or-break factor, though, lies with the casting of its two leads; Viggo Mortensen is a revelation in the lead role, depicting a desperate man who lives every day only to protect his son from the horrors that this new world presents. However, without the astounding chemistry with on-screen son Kodi Smit-McPhee, who himself tackles one of the most challenging child roles that cinema has as yet seen, this would be little more than another solid turn from the performer. As a tandem act, they express all of the horror, depravity, and brutal honesty that this disaster scenario unravels (with the odd dash of gallows humour), and as a depiction of the love between child and parent, it’s thoroughly moving and unerringly compelling. A scene pulled straight from the novel, in which the two come across a sole can of Coke (which the boy has never tasted) is simultaneously moving and tragically funny; it is exactly as one imagines it on the page, and one of the film’s best scenes, emphasising the fizzling chemistry between Mortensen and Smit-McPhee.

The small supporting roles also deserve attention, though, in particular the appearance of a nearly unrecognisable Robert Duvall as a blind old man aimlessly travelling along the road in search of food, shelter, or simply company. His brief chit-chat with the duo is a chilling reminder of how sparse humanity has become, with the old man initially believing that he has died and that the young boy is an angel. It’s also a resonant depiction of the three stages of life, each of which is embodied through an extremely talented performer no less. The stunning make-up work makes the haggard Mortensen look positively dashing by comparison; Duvall, at 78, delivers one of his most memorable screen performances in years, and given that the Academy has recognised the brief turns of Judi Dench (Shakespeare in Love) and Ruby Dee (American Gangster) in recent years, they might just give Duvall’s devastating 9-minute appearance some much-deserved recognition.

Also of note is The Wire star Michael K. Williams, who plays a thief that Mortensen’s character crudely humiliates after he attempts to make off with their tent. His appearance isn’t more than a few minutes, but it cements how the moral compass is no more in this world, and how the survival instinct takes over, particularly in Mortensen’s relentlessly protective father character. Fans of Hillcoat’s will no doubt enjoy the appearance of Guy Pearce, his lead in The Proposition, who has a brief role as another traveller on the road. Also, it would be remiss not to mention Charlize Theron, who appears in flashbacks as Mortensen’s wife, and has rather fatalistically resigned herself to a grim fate. It is with her character that the film departs the most from the book; she is developed a tad more beyond the few pages that she gets in the novel, giving us a greater glimpse of her pre-apocalypse life with her husband, but the small changes therein do not in any way mar the film’s success, and although it’s a minor role, it is again well acted.

Admittedly, The Road isn’t perfect, but most of the film’s flawed elements are counter-acted by the positives that they also create; the score, for example, composed by Hillcoat’s frequent collaborator (and writer of The Proposition) Nick Cave, along with Warren Ellis, is a little too heavy-handed with the piano during moments of poignant contemplation. While it’s easy to recognise how the film would have benefitted from a more restrained musical approach, akin to the minimalism of The Wrestler, it does nevertheless work most of the time, particularly the heart-pounding score used during the suspense portions, and also during the film’s more harrowing moments.

Furthermore, the narration arguably is a tad laboured at times; Mortensen’s delivery is agreeably tired and lumbering, but sometimes what’s left to the imagination is more satisfying, and suturing scenes together to synthesise meaning in its own right cleverer, at least to audiences prepared to use their brains (which this film certainly invites). However, it does also allow those familiar with the novel to revel in some of its more memorable, almost lyrical passages.

It is to this point – as one of many points - that The Road is such a success, and why it is difficult to imagine many being dissatisfied with this adaptation; down to Mortensen’s character getting naked and going for a swim (which one assumed studio interference might curtail), this is a ferociously faithful attempt that’s a serious Oscar contender in several categories. Mortensen’s performance as the lead is simply unforgettable and a sure lock for an Oscar nomination, while Smit-McPhee himself may well earn a Best Supporting Actor nod in what is one of the most illuminating and heartbreaking child roles that cinema has as yet unearthed. Not to mention, Duvall in particular provides outstanding support, and the production design is a work of immaculate beauty.

Do not be misled by the crudely-cut trailer (which places this more as a disaster thriller than the existential drama that it unmistakably is); this is as definitive an adaptation as one could hope for, tearing the set pieces kicking and screaming from the novel and then breathing cinematic life into them. Although it’s unlikely to be a huge hit at the multiplexes, it may well become a Best Picture contender if it continues to receive the strong press that it absolutely deserves.