Drive
FilmDistrict
R
100 minutes
2011
Now that this year's Oscar nominations are out, the dissenting can begin. The discussion over which films were snubbed is in full swing, and if there's one film that deserves to be on every list, it's Drive.
Originally imagined as a blockbuster, Drive is instead an indepedent, extremely stylish noir picture that borrows elements of classic heist films, car chase flicks, violent action movies, and character-driven dramas and melds them together into something completely unique. Drive is a deceptively complex film with multi-layered characters, and a technical marvel in the hands of director Nicolas Winding Refn and cinematographer Newton Thomas Sigel. An equal amount of credit must be doled out to screenwriter Hossein Amini, and of course, the cast who bring the characters to life.
Ryan Gosling plays "The Driver," an enigma of a man whose only backstory is that he wandered into Shannon's (Bryan Cranston of Breaking Bad fame) garage and asked for a job and works part-time as a Hollywood stunt driver. Other than that, nothing is revealed. Not his name, not his age, not his motivations for moonlighting as a wheelman. This allows the viewer's imagination to fill in the blanks free and easy. It's like being presented an empty canvas to paint whatever you'd like. The Driver has a quiet intensity, and he doesn't speak often - usually only when he has something important to say. Is this the product of a strict father who taught him to speak only when spoken to? Who knows, but it could be.
He meets Irene (Carey Mulligan), his next door neighbor in the apartment building he lives in, and her son, Benicio and soon befriends them in his own detached, distant way. Is this because he's lonely? Did something traumatic happen in his past that caused him to leave his old life behind and move, and he sees them as a second chance for the life he lost? Does he just want to counteract his less commendable qualities with acts of kindness? Who knows, but they're all possibilities.
The Driver is not easily intimidated. When Irene's husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac), is released from prison, he doesn't balk at the subtext in their brief first meeting. He senses Standard suspects him of muscling in on his territory, but he doesn't back down. Eventually, the two even become friends and the Driver agrees to help Standard do one last job that could give him and Irene a fresh start.
Naturally, things don't go quite as expected and the film that began as a slow-moving character drama explodes into an array of violence and vengeance.
Drive is a surprisingly layered movie. It's easy to mistake the characters for being one dimensional at first glance, but it's the subtle details that give them depth. Take, for instance, Nino (Ron Perlman), a Jewish pizzaria owner-cum-gangster in league with loanshark Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks). Nino comes across as a nothing more than a ball-busting tough guy at first, but later when arguing with Bernie, he laments the ethnic slurs and immasculating treatment he receives from other members of his crime family. Nino may not be a nice guy, but it's obvious he's resentful of the way his peers look down on him and his Jewish heritage. It's the subtleties, the things between the lines, that make Drive a much more complex movie than it may first appear.
Then there's Brooks' character, Bernie Rose. Much controversy has surrounded his Oscar snub, and rightfully so. A man best known for his comedic chops and brilliant satirical writing, Brooks goes against the grain and plays a terrifying yet strangely human character. He's a loanshark with a shred of conscious, but he's still not one to cross. In the interest of full disclosure, I am already biased towards Brooks and consider him a comedic genius, but his turn as Rose is remarkable and, most importantly, shockingly convincing.
Also shocking is the violence in the film. Drive isn't really about big shootouts. Don't expect to see Gosling diving behind furniture in slow-motion, dodging bullets, and men's bodies being pumped full of holes in return. You can, however, expect to see someone's face get blown off by a shotgun at close range. In slow motion. Even the most gruesome action movie has never made me cringe in the way that scene did, or the equally disturbing and disgustingly violent elevator scene. But it's all part of the big picture. It's like a microcosm of the Driver himself - the quiet facade occasionally cracking to reveal the ugly chaos beneath. It's not for the squeamish, but it fits the film's motif.
Ironically, the film features very little in the way of car chases. This is not The Fast and the Furious, though one particular viewer from my home state of Michigan seems to think that's lawsuit-worthy (way to make us proud, lady). The film's turning point does feature one for the ages, however, and it all appears to be done in-camera with practical effects work, making it all the more riveting and far more exciting than the obvious CG of typical action films.
It really is a shame that Drive didn't get a nomination for Best Picture at this year's Oscars. It's littered with excellent performances, overflowing with amazing cinematography (again, I'll refer you to the elevator scene), and layers of subtext in its sparse script that practically requires repeat viewings. Even it's retro 1980's-inspired score is brilliant. Perhaps if it had starred Tom Hanks or was directed by Steven Spielburg, it might have gotten the attention from the Academy that it deserves. For what it's worth, Drive is definitely one of the best motion pictures I saw from 2011, and a stunning achievement for all involved.
He meets Irene (Carey Mulligan), his next door neighbor in the apartment building he lives in, and her son, Benicio and soon befriends them in his own detached, distant way. Is this because he's lonely? Did something traumatic happen in his past that caused him to leave his old life behind and move, and he sees them as a second chance for the life he lost? Does he just want to counteract his less commendable qualities with acts of kindness? Who knows, but they're all possibilities.
The Driver is not easily intimidated. When Irene's husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac), is released from prison, he doesn't balk at the subtext in their brief first meeting. He senses Standard suspects him of muscling in on his territory, but he doesn't back down. Eventually, the two even become friends and the Driver agrees to help Standard do one last job that could give him and Irene a fresh start.
Naturally, things don't go quite as expected and the film that began as a slow-moving character drama explodes into an array of violence and vengeance.
Drive is a surprisingly layered movie. It's easy to mistake the characters for being one dimensional at first glance, but it's the subtle details that give them depth. Take, for instance, Nino (Ron Perlman), a Jewish pizzaria owner-cum-gangster in league with loanshark Bernie Rose (Albert Brooks). Nino comes across as a nothing more than a ball-busting tough guy at first, but later when arguing with Bernie, he laments the ethnic slurs and immasculating treatment he receives from other members of his crime family. Nino may not be a nice guy, but it's obvious he's resentful of the way his peers look down on him and his Jewish heritage. It's the subtleties, the things between the lines, that make Drive a much more complex movie than it may first appear.
Then there's Brooks' character, Bernie Rose. Much controversy has surrounded his Oscar snub, and rightfully so. A man best known for his comedic chops and brilliant satirical writing, Brooks goes against the grain and plays a terrifying yet strangely human character. He's a loanshark with a shred of conscious, but he's still not one to cross. In the interest of full disclosure, I am already biased towards Brooks and consider him a comedic genius, but his turn as Rose is remarkable and, most importantly, shockingly convincing.
Also shocking is the violence in the film. Drive isn't really about big shootouts. Don't expect to see Gosling diving behind furniture in slow-motion, dodging bullets, and men's bodies being pumped full of holes in return. You can, however, expect to see someone's face get blown off by a shotgun at close range. In slow motion. Even the most gruesome action movie has never made me cringe in the way that scene did, or the equally disturbing and disgustingly violent elevator scene. But it's all part of the big picture. It's like a microcosm of the Driver himself - the quiet facade occasionally cracking to reveal the ugly chaos beneath. It's not for the squeamish, but it fits the film's motif.
Ironically, the film features very little in the way of car chases. This is not The Fast and the Furious, though one particular viewer from my home state of Michigan seems to think that's lawsuit-worthy (way to make us proud, lady). The film's turning point does feature one for the ages, however, and it all appears to be done in-camera with practical effects work, making it all the more riveting and far more exciting than the obvious CG of typical action films.
It really is a shame that Drive didn't get a nomination for Best Picture at this year's Oscars. It's littered with excellent performances, overflowing with amazing cinematography (again, I'll refer you to the elevator scene), and layers of subtext in its sparse script that practically requires repeat viewings. Even it's retro 1980's-inspired score is brilliant. Perhaps if it had starred Tom Hanks or was directed by Steven Spielburg, it might have gotten the attention from the Academy that it deserves. For what it's worth, Drive is definitely one of the best motion pictures I saw from 2011, and a stunning achievement for all involved.
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