Wow. What a mishit. Biggest disappointment of the year, no question. No offense to Jason Statham, I love what he does, but … this was supposed to be Transporter with a real plot, real actor or both. In fact, Drive is probably what happened when you took the Transporter screenplay and sent it back to be remade in the Blade Runner 80s of moody technopop. Do not take that as a compliment. Ryan Gosling (simply “The Driver”) is our hero. He’s a driver, pure and simple. He opens the movie with a clean, subdued getaway. Instantly we know he has rules. Instantly we know he has skill. Instantly we know he doesn’t rattle easily. What motivates him? The slick character study evolves into a love story which evolves briefly into a reluctant buddy pic which evolves into a bungled crime story – by the time you get to the mob film part, you’ve almost completely lost everybody who doesn’t see movies for a living.
Drive is replete with mute acting. Ryan Gosling is reticent in a manner almost invoking Clint Eastwood at his worst. He plays the entire movie like a kid freshly introduced to a new school. He waits; we watches; he observes; he betrays nothing. He speaks or acts only when it is exactly necessary to do so. There isn’t fear behind it, and yet there’s still a feeling that if he gives his personality out, harm will come.
Nicolas Winding Refn encourages the taciturn feel – he gives us countless moments to appreciate where dialogue isn’t being spoken. This is where the critical diverges from the enjoyment. Sure, I’ve seen enough pics to know some of the best acting happens when people aren’t saying anything. But you can’t fill an entire movie with face reading. Watching movies should be an emotional experience, not a contest of wills. At one point Gosling and love interest Irene (Carey Mulligan) spend a full 30-second count staring at each other while the camera does nothing. These are the moments which define your experience. In a crappy film, like Twilight, you’ll sigh and hope somebody says something. In a better film, like Drive, you’ll grow impatient, but wait for the emotional payoff. I think it’s debatable as to whether we get that emotional payoff. I never did.
Capping my emptiness is an over-the-top and, in my estimation, misplaced violent streak. There’s violence in Drive on the order of Joe Pesci in Goodfellas. Fine, that was a mob picture. This was supposed to be a character study. We have a skillful driver; he doesn’t say much, but finds himself suddenly involved and more suddenly in over his head. The solution needed to involved skillful maneuvering, not unlike the manipulation of a fast and lithe vehicle. It did not need to involve shotguns to the head, butcher’s knives to the throat and boot heels destroying skulls. You give us a modern day Spaghetti Western? Fine. Let’s roll in Spaghetti Western style – a cool showdown, not a mob bloodbath.
Rated R, 100 Minutes
D: Nicolas Winding Refn, who could use an extra vowel
W: Hossein Amini
Genre: Cool
Type of person most likely to enjoy this film: The stoic and disillusioned
Type of person least likely to enjoy this film: Those with no love for violent nostalgia
