Drive: A Review

Think of his sweet jacket as a cape.

Carey Mulligan

We should totally hang out

We should make out too.

That was my haiku about Carey Mulligan.

Oh, my darling Carey Mulligan. So soft, so quaint, so innocent. Your dimples can express the beauty of the world more than Renoir, Michelangelo, and Bob Ross ever could. Your smile seems to reach out and grasp my inner being and comfort it until it transforms from hard, cold, and angered into warm dripping slurp. Oh Mulligan My Mulligan…

DRIVE, a film by Danish filmmaker Nicholas Winding Refn, has all of the recognizable tropes of a crime/noir film but never seems to have a conventional moment.  But the unconventional is no new territory for Refn who on his last two films embody the term. 2008’s BRONSON is a menacing biopic of Michael Peterson, a story of the most notorious prisoner in Britain that discards the notions of how a biopic should be and incorporates the pacing and feel not so unlike the late Stanley Kubrick. 2009’s VALHALLA RISING, about a one eyed mute near the year 1000 AD that has supernatural abilities, seems content in prioritizing mood over narrative. So, hearing the news of Refn’s next project, centered on a stunt driver in LA taking a heist job gone wrong in order to protect the girl he loves, had me extremely excited. Knowing the man’s previous projects, I knew he would make the popular setting and familiar story unique in the distinctive Refn way. And unique it is, by bridging the incredible style and mood Refn has shown in his previous works with a heftier story. 

The story is this: A part time stunt driver, a part time car mechanic, a part time heist driver (played by Ryan Gosling with an intense and commanding presence I thought he could never show) falls in love with his neighbor Irene and her son (played by the beautiful, rapturous, enchanting Carey Mulligan). Irene’s husband, Standard, gets released from jail a short time afterward. Standard needs to pay back protection money from some gangsters unless he wants to risk his family's livelihood. Driver, for Irene and her son’s sake, decides to help Standard on his last job. As expected, the job goes poorly and Driver must right the wrongs that have occurred in order to protect Irene and her son. 

 

Aren't these two just the sweetest things?

The relationship between Driver and Irene is subtly emotional. Driver is shy and meek around her. Because of this, the scenes involving the two are more about quick glances, long pauses and the unsaid. His motivations throughout the film become entirely believable because of this relationship. The restraint from the two of them comes off stronger than immediate passion and leaves room for more impactful moments later on.  

The subtle love story is only a starter for DRIVE. Once Driver is cornered into a position of life and death, some dark side of him comes out. His driving skills, his knife and gun skills all come off as instinctual. He kicks ass. He kicks ass hard. The dichotomy of the shy Driver and the killer Driver is one of the most interesting aspects of the movie. The internal conflict between the peaceful, quiet side he wants to embody versus the dark, murderous side he wants to avoid is fascinating. The dark part of him seems to terrify him as the film progresses. And not only does that scare him, but knowing that he has to have this side to survive and protect his loved ones scares him as well. 

Driver’s character is one of the most interesting protagonists this year, which is a shame considering everyone else in the film isn’t as remarkable. The other characters are all well acted, but come off as cardboard cut outs from other crime films. The two main antagonists are bad guys because they are. Ron Perlman’s Nino is a bad guy because he is rude and vulgar. Albert Brooks’ Bernie is also bad, but worse because he is higher up than Nino. It’s these stereotypical characters that come off as stale, which is saying a lot considering the film is everything other than. 

The action is dramatic and short like a violent punch to the audience. There is probably ten minutes of actual action, but the tension that leads up to these moments makes the action seem present throughout the film. Refn shoots these scenes with a menacing yet beautiful tone that only dreams can convey well.  The settings of these action sequences come off as a little off, where the floor might drop out from under you at any moment. The tone of the action is also helped by Refn’s musical choices. There seems to be two styles of music. There are moments of 80s synth pop and moments of ethereal techno vibes. The music together seems to mesh John Hughes movies and Refn’s own. I couldn’t help but be astonished that this type of style could work for an action film. It is incredibly refreshing.

 

DRIVE is a film that I needed to watch a second time. It wasn't that I didn't like it at first. My first reaction was rather positive. But DRIVE is one of those films that leaves an impression inside of you after you leave the theater. I needed the second viewing so I could discover what that internal feeling was. Sadly, I'm not a good enough writer to articulate this feeling. To me, DRIVE is not a film to be watched, but to be felt. And with all good movies, that feeling lingers.

 

Cantagion: A review.

Steven Soderbergh’s Contagion could not have come out at a better time. Contagion, a film depicting a catastrophic epidemic, opens on the weekend of the ten year anniversary (strange to call it an anniversary) of the tragic events of September 11. It is hard to not think about the aftermath of 9/11 and its affect on the world populace and I think it is best to keep these thoughts in mind while watching this great film. 

Let’s get the “well duh’s” out of the way. The film looks fantastic. The directing is spot on. The pacing is swift and the film is entertaining throughout. All of this comes with a Soderbergh film. What did stand out to me even more was how improvisational each scene felt. The pauses, the stuttering, the “uhs,” all feel organic and genuine. Scenes that lesser movies would have made cliché come off as authentic. Deaths come at a shock to characters who can’t take it in immediately.  Only when several months have passed is when it finally hits. And it hits hard. The dialogue and acting, involving Matt Damon, Marion Cotillard, Jude Law, Laurence Fishburne and many more, easily makes these people feel like real people and that this horrible epidemic is really happening. 

What Contagion also does well is creating tension early on, just by showing everyday habits everyone does that nobody thinks about doing. Knowing that the virus could be transmitted by a touch or a cough, any focus on a door handle, a hand rail, a handshake, a hotel bed all carry a huge weight and significance. Each of these seemingly small and irrelevant objects and gestures  could potentially carry a massive death sentence. Knowing the encroaching doom that is bound to occur really creates a tense and scary experience. 

But on a closer look, through all of the tragedy and horror, there are glimmers of hope in the film: A sick patient trying desperately to reach over and lend a cold patient her blanket; a man giving up his vaccine for another less advantaged child; concern over someone’s well-being instead of whether they will get them sick. Moments like this are sprinkled throughout the horror and the rioting and the anarchism. Soderbergh isn’t interested in shedding a too bright light on horrifying events, but he does recognize the strength and warmth that can make shape and reveal itself.

Which brings me back to my previous point. Because the aftermath of 9/11 was present in my mind, Contagion became a little more than just an entertaining film, but an incredibly moving one. A lot of the film is dire, hundreds of thousands of people are dying, people are robbing and kidnapping, rioting and chaos is rampant throughout the world and it represents this horror exceptionally well. But where Contagion truly shines is in these small, yet powerful moments of kindness that rise above the doom and gloom of the world just enough to keep one afloat.