REVIEW: Drive [2011]

Rating: R | Runtime: 100 minutes
Release Date: September 16th, 2011 (USA)
Studio: FilmDistrict
Director(s): Nicolas Winding Refn
Writer(s): Hossein Amini / James Sallis (novel)

There are no good sharks?

Part-time stuntman, part-time mechanic, part-time wheelman, and full-time brood—this is Ryan Gosling’s Driver. He’s a man of few words with determination stamped on his face and a code of morals that exist inside a very murky gray area that blurs the line between right and wrong when loyalty comes into play. A very cerebral actioner that harkens back to director Nicolas Winding Refn’s Valhalla Rising more than Bronson, Drive lives up to its stature of incomparable cool. This thing is slick as hell, existing in a world befitting of its gloved and scorpion jacket-wearing antihero with toothpick firmly clenched in mouth. Just know that the attributes making it aesthetically stylish also give its simple story a sterility that may leave you cold and wanting more.

Starting with a bang-laden whimper, Gosling and Refn give us a little taste of what’s to come via a chess match car chase through Los Angeles. Setting the stage with his trademark speech about allotting five minutes for any crime before locking the doors and gunning it away from the cops, Driver listens to a police radio and a Clippers game simultaneously while waiting for two ski-masked criminals. Riding a souped-up silver Camry—courtesy of friend/boss Shannon (Bryan Cranston)—the vehicle is spotted and chased by land and air.

Fearless and in complete control, Gosling hits the throttle while winding through the map in his head to duck down alleys and patiently wait for opportunities to escape. But just as the car under him growls with its pent-up, unbridled, and potentially lethal power, so does the man at the wheel. Cool and collected when playing by his own rules, a storm of rage will uncoil to destroy you whenever a wrench is thrown into the system that threatens someone close.

Despite the revving engine and synth beats behind it (although I wish I could forget the on-the-nose lyrics taking me out of the film), my adrenaline rode a roller coaster throughout. See that opening chase where the pedal is never depressed to the floor long before it’s eased up for quieter scenes of introspection. This isn’t a bad thing. It’s merely unexpected.

We learn about Driver’s skills behind the wheel and under the hood with one line of dialogue and a solitary worktable lit up where a TV should sit in his apartment showing how driving is his life. Besides a wry smirk barely curling the sides of his lips, little emotion is expressed. A thumbs up after a movie stunt shows he’s okay. A slight nod is enough to accept a job. It’s an existence soon undone by a handful of new people to his life, the film spanning their introduction and his escape from their hold. Past and future are obsolete.

Through Carey Mulligan’s Irene and Kaden Leos’ Benicio, Driver discovers a glimmer of compassion and love. A platonic relationship that teeters towards more, her husband Standard (Oscar Isaac) looms as his prison release nears. Although sexual tension exists between them, the real bond formed is between Gosling’s mysterious man and her little boy. Whether he becomes a fixture in their life or not, he entrenches himself and refuses to let them get hurt—especially from circumstances of his doing.

Enter Albert Brooks’ Bernie and Ron Perlman’s Nino. Two Jewish thugs combining brains and brute force, they’re originally enlisted by Shannon to bankroll a race car. Gosling’s ability to drive is unparalleled, so taking his skills legit seems like a no-brainer. Before the endeavor can truly take off, though, Driver finds himself helping Standard with a ‘simple’ job to buy Irene and Benicio’s freedom. It unsurprisingly goes wrong and drags Gosling down from the fringes and into a world he desperately tried to keep at arm’s length.

Refn methodically takes us through Hossein Amini’s script (adapted from James Sallis’ novel) from there. With slow camera pans, extreme close-ups of gorgeously framed abstract shapes, and subtle slomotion sprinkled in at precise moments, the look of Drive is fantastic. Unafraid to linger, the camera becomes our voyeuristic entry into the violence that soon creeps in. Bloody, brutal, and uncompromising, these spurts of vicious assault are quick but memorable. Their authentic portrayal can be hard to watch for those not shielded by their clinical precision.

Cold and emotionless, Driver continues down his path of vengeance and survival, crossing people off his list to ensure Irene and her son’s safety. As oddly sterile as the violence proves, however, their romance is much of the same. Never fully letting Driver open up or Irene commit adultery, we can’t really invest in the potential for romance either. We’re constantly unsure of what’s happening, the jump cuts between cause and effect blurring timelines to make the film more about form than story.

And that’s okay. I love how we’re forced to watch and understand the horrors of life in the fast lane. It’s either isolation with the rush of adrenaline or love and the constant need to sustain it. A choice must be made when those worlds collide, one whose result can only end in sacrifice. Refn and company excel at creating a character study of this archetype. All the aura of glory we usually associate with this James Dean bad boy is stripped away to leave reality’s truth of pain, suffering, and solitude. To be a hero isn’t easy. To survive is never without loss.

Gosling embodies this interior struggle to perfection, his uncontrollable rage proving a force to reckon with opposite Mulligan’s depressive longing, Brooks’ nuanced menace, and Cranston’s misguided fatherly love. These calculated performances align with the aesthetic to stun us visually, but never overcome the desolation. It’s a beautiful work of art lacking the necessary audience connection to make it more than a long-form, stylish music video. Drive is a fun action flick pared down to its stark real-life essence. Objectively great, just not the masterpiece so many believe.