I don’t know why I never review independent movies. Maybe it’s because they’re all the same or maybe it’s because I don’t feel like dishing out the monetary equivalent of a porterhouse at Outback for a ticket. I personally feel like art house films are for hippies who drink PBR, swear on Mac, and have no idea which faucet direction turns on the hot water in the shower. However, every now and again the stars will align and I’ll be swayed by overwhelming praise from the movie critic community into seeing something I’d normally consider myself too superior to even consider.
A few years ago, that film was Moon, which strangely deserved all the praise it got (mostly). This year, it’s Drive, which from the trailers I assumed starred Ryan Gosling and Ryan Gosling’s abdominal muscles.
However, I was quite surprised with Drive, and not just because Ryan Gosling’s workout routine is conspicuously absent, but because it’s awesome.
Let me warn you now that this will not be as humorous as my other reviews. Mostly because Drive was actually good. Score one for the universe.
This is Ryan Gosling's cool face. And worried face. And funny face. Etc.
First, let me get this out of the way because I feel it’s necessary after my friends thought I was out of my mind for recommending this film: Drive will not appeal to 99% of you. That’s right, you, the person reading this right now. I can almost guarantee that if you go see Drive you’ll probably be asleep within a half hour. Drive is not the action movie that the trailers make it out to be. In fact, though I didn’t exactly calculate, I’d say that out of the film’s 100 minute running time, Ryan Gosling is only driving a car in about 5 or 6 of them.
No joke.
Drive is a drama; a deeply poetic, emotional human drama that is packed with so much imagery that every frame is filled with symbolism and depth that only occasionally pokes its head out from under the art house rock to smash someone’s face in. Let me give you an example: near the end of the film, Ryan Gosling walks into the back room of a strip club and beats the crap out of the owner. All the while, the strippers just sit around, none of them batting an eyelash. It’s a glimpse into the cruel world of organized crime and how people involved (and maybe this is an allegory for the current state of the world) have become so desensitized to atrocities that seeing a guy get his skull beaten in with a hammer is on par with stopping by Starbucks on the way to the office.
His TPS report involves a hammer and someone's forehead.
So, what’s Drive about? Well, it’s about a dude who drives. That’s it. During the day he’s a stuntman/mechanic and at night he’s basically Niko Bellic from Grand Theft Auto. He rarely talks and has this creepy stare reminiscent of Dexter Morgan. One day he finally works up the balls to confront a girl whom he’s obviously in love with and becomes attached to her and her young son. When her husband returns from prison, his ex-partners decide that if he doesn’t pay up some debt that they’ll kill him and his family. Thus, Ryan Gosling decides screw that and helps him out with a heist.
It’s in that decision that we have the real point of Drive.
It’s about a man who, despite his obvious social incapacities and loner nature, just wants desperately to be a good person. He cares so much for the woman and her child that he is willing to risk his life to save hers, knowing full well that he’s also saving the life of the one man that stands in between them. In fact, there's a scene near the end where Gosling drives away from a million dollars that beautifully sums up the film's lesson.
Okay, I do have a criticism among this marriage proposal disguised as a review: Drive is ssssssssssssssssslllllllllllllllooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.
Seriously the thing goes for an hour and forty minutes but feels like it takes that long just for the plot to start. And there are literally about 10 scenes where the characters just stare at each other for several minutes at a time that make you squirm in the seat and look at your watch.
Okay, now back to the praise.
Two seconds later, Ryan Gosling is smashing some guy's brain on his shoe. I'm not kidding. How's that for a tonal shift?
Imagery. Imagery. Imagery. Drive is a film lover’s dream come true. Every scene, every frame, every line of dialogue, every action, is riddled with a deeper meaning than will appear to the majority of people who sit through it, particularly those who proclaim Michael Bay as the world’s greatest director. There’s one scene where Ryan Gosling, a hitman, and the woman are in an elevator. Ryan Gosling kisses her in Zach Snyder-vision before stomping the hitman’s face in. Why? Because he wanted to kiss her before she realized he was a monster. That’s why. Deal with it. In another scene, Ryan Gosling goes after Hellboy, who serves as one of the film’s antagonists, while wearing a stunt mask. Why? Because it’s not really him. He’s becoming what he has to be. In another, Nemo’s dad (Albert Brooks) laments after killing Malcom in the Middle’s dad, a stark image of a man disgusted with who he is. The list goes on and on…every scene is packed with emotional depth and significance.
Drive is the type of film you can write essays on. It’s not the hardcore action film the trailers desperately want you to think it is. It’s slow and methodical and gives off the Cohen brothers’ vibe. It’s not a film you watch to be entertained, it’s a film you watch if you truly appreciate and love the medium. If you don’t like Drive, then chances are you’re probably just not smart enough to.
added by Brent Saltzman at 4:19 PM September 22, 2011