The road movie is a well-worn genre with unique plusses and pitfalls. Its usual variety of locations affords flexibility in molding a story, but the focal setting (a car, in most cases) can be limiting. To make something special, any director of a classically-told road tale is forced to rely on a strong narrative, even stronger dialogue, and solid acting. The Open Road -- an ambitious title for a road movie if there ever was one -- plays within this structure, closely following the rules without the benefit of notable story development or performance. The result is standard, even bland.

The biggest risk from writer-director Michael Meredith (Three Days of Rain) is casting Justin Timberlake as his lead, a move full of liabilities. Timberlake has slipped into a couple supporting roles well enough (Alpha Dog comes to mind) but simply doesn't have the instincts and chops to carry a movie as a lead. Here, he plays Carlton Garrett, a failing minor league baseball player who'd rather jot in his journal than swing in the batting cage. When his ill mother (Mary Steenburgen) asks to see Carlton's missing dad before undergoing surgery, all the road movie pieces start falling into place.

It plays like a familiar checklist. There's the request from the sick mom. The put-upon but dutiful son who tracks down the estranged father -- in this case, a famous baseball hero, Jeff Bridges playing something just short of caricature. The convenient need to drive to their destination, and a sort-of girlfriend (Kate Mara, We Are Marshall) keeping things balanced on the trip. It's step-by-step storytelling, where travel acts as a metaphor for an emotional journey; yet there's nothing substantial along the way to raise eyebrows.

At the very least, Bridges could have chosen to tone down his performance to give Timberlake a little more room to handle the heavy lifting. As the irrepressible Kyle "Lone Star" Garrett, Bridges slides right into a saucy Texan drawl, spinning yarns like a drunk 21st century Will Rogers. Meredith's "countryisms" don't help, and it takes some serious conflict between father and son for us to see Kyle beyond a single dimension. Sure, the character is supposed to be a ham, but when the interpretation matches that, the other players are forced to deliver the real stuff alone. Timberlake, despite his efforts, is neither commanding nor serious enough to get it done. It may be in his future, but isn't yet.

Somewhere along the way, there's honest development to the relationships Carlton has with his dad and his girl, but it evolves unremarkably, too slowly to hold our attention. When The Open Road finally shows some bite, it hints at the director Meredith could be, as he sheds the typical for an unexpected taste of danger and desperation. The emotion exists elsewhere too, but it seems the filmmaker is too busy making sure all his bases are covered.