Review

Review Date: 18-September-11
Spoiler Rating: High
Juju Judgment: Just OK

Drive (2011)

A little over a year ago I described the Odin-in-hell picture Valhalla Rising as "violence spattering long minutes of meandering through a gloomy, semi-mythic past." The subsequent effort from director Nicolas Winding Refn, Drive, could be similarly described even though its setting is more recent. Applying the enigmatic sexiness of actor Ryan Gosling to a Los Angeles that harkens back to the streets of Steve McQueen, Refn tells the story of an ace car driver who does stunt work by day and getaway work by night. The primary motif is cool, at least in the beginning. The driver has no family or social connections beyond a ratty manager (Bryan Cranston) and no defining characteristic beyond a talent for going vroom. He does this with stylish leather gloves, a toothpick held lightly between his lips, and complete composure, even when pursued.

One day the driver reluctantly plays the helpful neighbor for a woman named Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her young son. Thus he uncovers his chivalry. On top of the standard vulnerability of the single mother, and an especially waif-like one at that, Irene bears the burden of a husband in jail. The driver, sensing both need and opportunity, starts courting her (by motoring her around with stylish leather gloves, a toothpick, etc.). The attachment he forms is so strong that when Irene's husband returns, all too soon and trailing a dangerous problem, the driver decides to play the really helpful neighbor and save the family. Before long he's involved with daylight robbery, mob money, and hit men bent on silencing him and everyone he knows.

While the underworld business arouses the irritation I always feel in movies about criminals, what Drive's last act arouses most is a fit of giggles: the violence is so extreme it quickly becomes comic. I mean, why stick a fork in a guy's eye when you're going to put a knife in his chest a second later? That's idiotic misuse of a utensil. Needless to say, the campy nature of the violence — which turns out to be another of the driver's talents — puts a damper on the cool vibe, as does the whining thuggishness of the driver's newfound nemeses (Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman). One wonders by the end whether the hero is fit to enjoy what he killed to preserve, whether Irene could still want him after witnessing his berserker mode, and whether Refn the director simply lost control of the wheel.

Copyright © 2011 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.