Driving = freedom. Freedom to move, freedom to explore, freedom to express, freedom to date. Every American teen knows this. Well, almost every American teen. The ultra-urbane sometimes lose this message on the subway somewhere between Flatbush and Soho. It’s weird when adults can’t drive. My first impulse is to ask an incredulous, “Why?!” The only reasonable answer in my book is: “I grew up in NYC.” Oh, sure. I get it now.
One such non-driving NYC denizen is Wendy (Patricia Clarkson), who introduces herself to Darwan (Ben Kingsley) by having a scene in the back of his cab. No one blames her for the scene; her husband of multiple decades, Ted (Jake Weber), is having an affair and this is the end of their marriage. Still, I think I’d wish to distance myself from anyone or anything that was part of said particular moment in my life. In fact, my dear readers, if you have seen me at my worst and we don’t talk anymore, that’s the reason.
Darwan is Sikh, however, and as a devoted practicing member of Sikhism, his values are impressively humane. He returns to Wendy’s Manhattan brownstone to return an item she left in his cab and then offers a shoulder. Earlier in the day, Wendy discovered her daughter has become a farmer – and not a Manhattan “medicinal” farmer, a real life growing-and-selling food products farmer. And lemme tell ya, the 1 Train uptown doesn’t go rural after the Bronx, you get me? So Wendy wants a driver’s license so she can visit her daughter and, whaddaya know? Darwan just happens to be a driving instructor on the side. What a coincidence.
While Wendy is busy falling to pieces, Darwan lives in a cheery Dickensian hovel with 19 of his best friends, all fellow Sikh men. Hey, if he wants to teach driving during the day and be a cabbie at night and, I dunno, serve fast food in the morning, and program C++ in the afternoon, can you blame him? As much as I loved anybody, I’d do anything to get out of a living situation that crowded as often as possible. Be careful what you wish for because low and behold, ICE comes in and claims all his homies; that’s awful … but I gotta think there’s a tiny mixed blessing in there, especially as Darwan is getting an arranged marriage in Act II. Btw, do you think his ICE survival deserves a Darwan Award?
I truly believed Patricia Clarkson could not drive a car. She sold me. I think we know where this goes – Darwan teaches Wendy how to drive and control her own life while Wendy, a literary critic, teaches Darwan how to communicate with his lifelong 
blind date. And do the two fall in love? Well, I’m not going to give that away. The rest is easily guessable.
In less competent hands, Learning to Drive is a dog; the story is weak and the action is predictable. The fantasy and real-life scenes where Wendy tries to get Ted back are beyond cringe-worthy. I suppose there’s something to be said that Wendy didn’t just go the cliché route of igniting everything Ted owns while parading about the bonfire in a camisole singing “I Am Woman.” Yet her helplessness at the break makes me believe that any affection she develops for Darwan will come from transference and not genuine fondness. Even if this film is a psychological coloring book, I genuinely liked both leads and there are many worse things in the world than two people reaching out for friendship. If you hate the rest, maybe you can appreciate that. I did.
♪Well she got her learner’s card and she lurched to the TriBoro Bridge now
Seems she forgot all about etiquette; she’s not caring a smidge now
And with the guy in turban telling her to keep it cool as a fridge now
She’s gonna grunt, grunt, grunt ‘til she wipes her ex out of the way♫
Rated R, 90 Minutes
Director: Isabel Coixet
Writer: Sarah Kernochan
Genre: Midlife crisis with high school solution.
Type of being most likely to enjoy this film: Divorcées
Type of being least likely to enjoy this film: Meter maids
♪ Parody Inspired by “Fun, Fun, Fun”
