I finally caught the film last night. I also decided to reread Yoda's review that began this thread. It's a good review, Yoda, and I agree with much of it and would rate it the same, but I think I would disagree that it invoked every feeling it meant to....
I think, for me, where this film really fails is that this is one of those occasions where the art of filmmaking cannot compare to the written word. We, being cinephiles, enjoy films at the level of art and embrace how it is different than literature.
Unfortunately, The Road, no matter the filmmaker, would probably never make a good film. As I was watching it, it seemed to hit the right tone, it certainly explores the relationship of father to son, the acting is wonderful (especially by Viggo), yet it lacks what made the book so incredibly special.
In the end, there is a moment in the book where the Man tells us he cannot shoot the boy. It is a heart-stopping moment and when reading it, I began to sob. Hysterically. Cormac's constant repetition of the meaning of the gun's one bullet had this amazing and heartbreaking payoff.
That payoff fell off in the film and if someone hadn't been watching closely, they may have missed it entirely. I felt nothing. I wasn't even sad at a moment I should have been. I'm not sure what the director could have done differently, yet something so important to the power of story was absent.
Yoda is right, it was a film that was meant to be endured. Yet the book will live on my heart as one of the times where an author reached deep inside my soul and made me feel something I will never forget.
I was left with one lasting impression: that literature should never be fully replaced and those who do not read books are missing out on one of the major joys of life.