Pages

Monday, 3 October 2011

Drive - Review


As I left the cinema following the closing credits of Drive, I realised I'd just experienced an incredible piece of filmmaking - the likes of which only comes around very, very rarely - and I couldn't stop talking about it. Remarkably, within 10 minutes of the film's opening sequence, I'd already decided it was my favourite film of the year, but by the time the credits rolled, I knew without a doubt that it was a potent anti-blockbuster that would develop a cult following within no time. The movie unfolds with a tense and realistic getaway chase that places the viewer in the passenger seat of an escaping vehicle, followed by a pop-noir styled main title sequence edited to a pulsing 80's style soundtrack. It was clear to see why Drive had left with the best-director prize at this year's Cannes film festival.
I had high hopes for Drive from the outset. Not only was it under the control of Danish Director Nicholas Winding Refn, who managed to launch Tom Hardy to ultimate stardom in the unlikely role of Bronson in 2009, but it was also the action vehicle that was tipped to launch actor/musician Ryan Gosling into the public eye. Originally pitched as a blockbuster action title with Hugh Jackman attached to star (which seems an impossibility once you see Gosling in the role), the script eventually changed hands and was redefined as a lower budget film that could appeal to both fans of mainstream genre films, and those who enjoy a more alternative, art-house approach to their cinema experience.

Drive tells the story of an un-named 'Driver,' who uses his expert skill behind the wheel to take work as a stunt man and race driver during the day, and getaway driver-for-hire by night. He has a set of rules which define his operation - no guns, no helping the criminals run it down - he just drives. After becoming involved with the plight of his neighbour Irene and her son, the Driver develops feelings for her that change his situation entirely, and he gets inevitably drawn into her conflict.
Drive doesn't really spend any time exploring character origins or specific details, and certainly doesn't feel the need to explain anything we don't really need to know. Dialogue is also fairly sparse, and the conversations that do take place do so with a natural flow. There are many telling smiles and awkward glances that tell as much story as the words themselves do.

The overall plot isn't exactly revolutionary, and revisits ideas seen in many similar genre pieces, but with artistic and unique directing choices, it manages to feel fresh and inventive regardless of it's well worn formula. To those complaining that Drive is weak on plot, narrative detail wasn't the focus here anyway. The subject of Drive is the un-named protagonist and his character arc, and a fascinating character he is. At the beginning of the movie, he is almost shy and reserved, and we know very little about him. He comes across as gentle and caring, and hardly the violent type. His refusal to carry a weapon reinforces our belief that the driver is of a more peaceful disposition. Then as the film escalates into violence and Irene is endangered, the Driver suddenly becomes more and more brutal as he dispatches one would be assailant after another in an attempt to protect her from harm. The brutality of his actions reaches a peak during the latter part of the film that culminates in the elevator scene, and the violence reaches a shocking climax. As we look on the Driver through Irene's eyes, we wonder how a character who was so gentle at the beginning of the movie could be transformed so dramatically into a remorseless killer, and in that moment we realise it's because of his feelings for her, and the scene immediately tells a whole story within itself. The collision of violence, romance and suspense in this pivotal sequence is quite staggering, and the entirety of it is told without a single line of dialogue, clearly displaying Refn's unique and powerful directional ability. In Drive, actions do indeed speak louder than words.

Credit must go to the casting department, for there isn't a single bad casting choice here, and it seems that everyone knew they were involved in something particularly special. Brian Cranston of AMC's Breaking Bad is well cast as the Driver's partner and mentor, Carey Mulligan is appropriately vulnerable as Irene, and Albert Brooks is far more than a two-dimensional villain stereotype. Even Ron Perlman - who has garnered a reputation over the last few years of signing onto one terrible film after another - turns in a brilliant and unexpected role and gets some fantastic dialogue.
Director Refn seems to present these potent characters so effortlessly, that all other details feel inconsequential, and I was thoroughly absorbed in their world. I'll be greatly anticipating his next film, Only God Forgives, and it's interesting to see Gosling attached to star here too.
Drive is in equal parts thrilling, romantic, violent and nostalgic. But essentially it's a tragic love story, described by Gosling himself as a Romeo and Juliet for the modern era. The nameless hero of the story is so selfless in his defence of Irene that he sacrifices all personal desires to ensure that she is safe. The song by College fills in on the soundtrack where the dialogue is void, describing the Driver as a 'real hero, and a real human being.' It's the Driver's selfless acts that subconsciously resonate with audience members, and perhaps this is the real human being that so many of us wish we could be. Thankfully, Drive is an incredibly well balanced movie, and the love story doesn't force itself upon us, instead letting the emotional themes simmer beneath the stunning visuals, the sound of squealing tires, and a crackling 80's electro soundtrack.