In a humble and
darkened apartment in downtown Los Angeles, an enigmatic gentleman specifies
his gig as a getaway driver with some potential clients over the phone. This
Driver (Ryan Gosling, whose character is never referred to by a proper name)
says that while he will follow through in helping these guys carry out their
criminal operation, there is one small but important stipulation. He will give
them a five-minute window of time to hold up the place, perform the robbery and
make their way back to his car. If they are unable to meet those requirements,
they are no longer his problem.
Sounds a little bit
like “The Transporter,” correct? A chauffeur who acts as an accomplice to a
crime by getting the real offenders out of a would-be sticky situation?
Anyways, the camera then cuts to the crime scene, a grimy, weathered and
ominously unoccupied looking building that, I assume, holds a buttload of money
inside. As the two men enter, Driver waits patiently in his ride, covertly
listening to police interference through a small radio and solemnly watching
the seconds pass on his wristwatch, which is fastened tightly on the steering
wheel in front of him. One of the guys exits rather quickly, while the other
soon follows. Before you know it, the quiet escape is on.
In the opening speech
he gives to his customers over the phone, he mentions that L.A. has upwards of
1000 streets, and boy, he probably has experience with every single one of
them. The “escape,” if you can call it that, is a simultaneously tense and dead
silent trek through the city, where Driver has to occasionally lose police cars
through sudden twists and turns.
You may notice that
the dominating sound in this particular scene seems like something that would
be the faint background noise permeating the frenetic mayhem in any other
ball-to-the-wall action film: the police reporting back and forth to each other
on the criminals’ progress. Not a single word is exchanged between the three
people in the car. The guys in the back at one point are trembling at the
thought of being discovered. That is not the case for Driver, who coolly
breezes through the process as though he were jamming to Bob Marley on the
interstate. He knows nothing can possibly go wrong when he is behind the wheel.
And so ends the
tremendously inspired first seven-minutes of “Drive,” a film that I believe
never again reaches that level of great filmmaking or subtle brilliance. Have
you seen a film where approximately halfway through, you begin to ask what you’ve gotten yourself into? You
may be able to relate to how I felt when in this film, a whole bunch of dissimilar genres collided
with the force of two confrontational rhinoceroses charging at full speed into
each other. Maybe it was the fact that I deliberately avoided movie trailers
and TV ads for the film, but by the end, I had been thrown for so many loops
that I felt like I was trapped in a narrative whose blueprint borrowed
liberally from the tortuous street arrangements of downtown L.A.
Aside from
moonlighting as a getaway driver, this guy works a few other car-related jobs
throughout the week: he is a part-time stunt driver for a studio lot, he works
in an auto garage owned by an older man named Shannon (Bryan Cranston) and he
is approached to be a professional stock car driver after demonstrating his
skills on the racetrack. Shannon is onboard to construct the racecar, but the
investors for this possible venture are a couple of wealthy mobster business
partners named Bernie Rose and Nino (Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman,
respectively). These are the types of businessmen whose personalities instantly
scream the word ‘shady’ into my mind.
Driver also starts a
relationship with Irene (Carey Mulligan), a married woman who lives in an
apartment a few doors down with her young son Benicio (Kaden Leos). The two hit
it off from the moment he drives them home from the grocery store after their
car breaks down. But they do not become too involved as her husband Standard
(Oscar Isaac) will be released from prison within the next couple weeks. When
Standard does return to his home, there is another moderately effective scene
where the husband meets Driver for the first time at a party celebrating his
arrival. He does not act outwardly jealous or territorial of his woman by
cussing him out, but you can tell from the look on his face that Driver’s
presence in their lives is a little troubling to him.
Not long after, Driver
finds Standard bloodied and beaten in an alley with a scared and confused
Benicio recoiling in the corner. Standard tells him that the person responsible
for his beating had come for a large cash settlement for the protection of his
family. If he does not get the money soon by robbing a nearby shop, the man
threatens to brutalize the rest of his family as punishment. Driver then feels
obligated to assist Standard in his actions, if only to hold his family
together.
And from there, what
seemed almost like a stylish, restrained drama about a nameless hero quickly
turns into an aggressively stylized and ultraviolent revenge picture that is
one of the most puzzling experiences I have had in a while. Unfortunately, I do
not mean that in a good way. I give it credit for going against the grain of
typical blockbuster-type films and trying something different, but it is
moments when technical exercises overshadow the film itself that throw me off completely.
I mean, is there supposed to be some kind of irony in a scene where Gosling
passionately kisses Mulligan’s character in an elevator and then spontaneously
starts wailing away on an assassin, stomping his head into a bloody, syrupy
pulp on the floor? Perhaps I just missed the point of it all.
To me, “Drive” is the
kind of movie that is predominantly style with little to offer in terms of
substance. The violence is just there for the heck of it, without any kind of
visceral weight or purpose behind it. The story is as difficult as any other
convoluted action picture. The script is consciously minimalist and leaves
several spaces for the actors and actresses to just stare at each other
blankly, awkwardly waiting for the next line of dialogue to be spoken.
Honestly, I do not mean to sound like such a contrarion. But to me, this is an
over-the-top action film trying to use visual finesse and tonal flair as a
subterfuge to earn itself some extra points. Sorry guys, but you didn’t lure me
in this time.
VERDICT:
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1 comment:
The violence is just there for the heck of it? I disagree. Watch what comes out of Driver in that elevator scene. He's not doing that for cheap thrills. He has serious repressed issues, and they come bubbling up in how vicious his attack is on that guy. He then looks at Carey Mulligan with a look that is a mix of shock and shame at what he's done.
Or how about the way Albert Brooks kills? It's as though we can feel it when he uses the razor in that one really sad scene where he then talks his victim through to death as though he is a doctor.
The violence is brutal indeed, but I don't think it's easy or fun or gratuitous, in fact it's so organically coming out of who these people are that it seems even more brutal than the mediocre action pics we're used to.
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