2011
100 minutes
rated R
by Scott Mendelson
There is an old Robert Rodriguez interview where he comments about how shocked he was by the positive reviews that greeted the release of El Mariachi. He hinted at certain biases that critics have toward films that are supposed to automatically be 'better' than the rest. To paraphrase, Rodriguez thought he was making an exploitation film, but because it was a foreign movie with subtitles, critics found all kinds of symbolism that wasn't really there. Nicolas Winding Refn directs the hell out of Drive, itself based on a novel by James Sallis. But the visual poetry is in service of a painfully contrived and hilariously generic narrative, and even said 'coolness' is so overwrought that it eventually turns into self-parody and becomes as boring as the story being told.
A token amount of plot: "Driver" (Ryan Gosling) works by day as an auto mechanic and stunt driver, while moonlighting by night as a getaway driver for thieves and the like. His life is one of general isolation, but that changes when he takes a mutual interest in his neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her young son. Even when Irene's husband is released from prison, the so-far platonic affection still exists. So when said husband (Oscar Isaac) ends up in hot water over protection money, Driver offers to help him pull of the heist to settle the debt. The heist goes fine, no one gets hurt, and everyone lives happily-ever after. That last sentence was a joke.
I purposely avoided any trailers and TV spots for the film, having been told that they were quite spoiler-filled. Having seen the film, I can only wonder how this film could be spoiled, since it is so formulaic that anyone who has ever seen a crime film can accurately plot out what is going to happen and when. Predictability is not in-itself a flaw, but Drive takes 100 minutes to tell maybe 30 minutes worth of story. The vast majority of the running time is given to Gosling silently driving around the city and/or exchanging mostly silent glances with said damsel-in-distress. You say these scenes are 'artistic' and filled with symbolic character moments. I say it felt like a cheap direct-to-DVD action film filling up the running time with redundant driving scenes and scenes of two people staring at each other. After a terrific and suspenseful opening action sequence (where stealth and silence prevail over loud vehicle crunching), the picture slows to a crawl as it introduces its primary characters (that's good) and spends oodles of screen time merely letting our two would-be lovebirds exchange 'romantic' glances (that's bad).
This is also one of those films where our two leads feel the need to barely talk about a whisper, so it's a good thing they have so little dialogue. The rest of the cast fortunately adds a bit more life to the proceedings, as Albert Brooks, Ron Perlman, and Bryan Cranston helpfully talk at normal volume and actually give more than two facial expressions during the course of the picture. But the film is very nearly a silent picture, which is mainly a problem because it is not a very engaging one, opting less for 'slow motion' than for extended scenes of 'no motion' (spoiler-free example: a major moment involves a distraction of an enemy, something that would take thirty seconds in a normal film but here drags on for two minutes). We are supposed to believe that the relationship between 'Driver' and Irene is a potent one, that it is worth potentially sacrificing the life Driver has made for himself. But since we get absolutely no backstory or character development for Ryan Gosling's brooding protagonist, we basically have to go on faith that this isn't just a case of two movie stars mooning over each other because the false notion that a bad or amoral man caring about a pretty girl (and/or a child) will automatically make him good.
Driver is presented as capable of savage violence when it is called for and when it is not. During a climactic moment, he actually kills a more-or-less innocent bystander. Yet we're supposed to somehow believe in his potential goodness or heroism, both because Ryan Gosling is handsome and brooding and because the soundtrack explicitly tells us as much. A reoccurring song literally has the refrain: "He's a real human being, and to me a hero.", which makes me again wish that Baseketball (which hilariously spoofed on-the-nose film-song lyrics) was a bigger hit back in 1998. Cary Mulligan has no character to speak of, other than to be pretty and give Gosling moon-eyes when its required. We are supposed to be invested in this relationship, but it is so empty that it makes the Bella/Edward romance of the first Twilight film truly feel like a legendary love affair. Again, we are given no background or development of any kind for any of the would-be heroes, and the film expects us to care (and approve) purely because they are played by beautiful movie stars.
Yes, the film looks relatively stylish, and yes there is a confidence and artistry to some of the compositions, but the visuals of the film serve no purpose other than itself and eventually becomes the whole reason. Critics constantly complain when big-budget studio films are purely concerned with style over substance, yet artsy-fartsy films that commit the same sin are apparently given a pass. Drive is in the end all about its own style, flaunting its lack of substance as some kind of extended-middle finger to those who will hail its 'coolness' and ignore the fact that there is nothing underneath the razzle-dazzle. It is boring, uninteresting, and audience-insulting, playing as it does to the barest adolescent fantasies in a manner befitting a high school short story. Take away the critics-choice actors and the intriguing but very Tangerine Dream-ish score by Cliff Martinez, and you have the plot, the pacing, and the character development of any given direct-to-DVD action picture.
The great irony is that I think director Nicolas Winding Refn and/or writer Hossein Amini know this. There is a scene in the first act of the film where Albert Brooks (in the best performance of the picture) lays out some background exposition. He states that he used to be a movie producer. He then explains that (paraphrasing) 'I used to produce movies in the 80s. Kind of action films, sexy stuff. Some people called them European. I thought they were shit.' From whomever's mind that line originated from, it seems clear that the filmmakers may be laughing at the critics tripping all over themselves to praise this bargain-basement genre film due to its art-house sheen. Drive may look 'European', but it's actually just a stripped-down, character-less variation on The Transporter.
Grade: C-
