Movie Review: ‘Drive’

The stark luminescence of the speedometer on a 1973 Chevy Malibu is the only thing lighting up the night.

A white satin jacket adorned with a scorpion reflects in the window. This is the driver’s milieu.

More often silhouetted than not, “Drive” is a brooding tour de force set in the moody atmosphere of L.A. With its flirty pink titles, and poppy synth songs, the film seems like it doesn’t belong in this era, but is instead an intruder from the 80s. It is, however, a welcome intruder. With the dearth of satiating films that have grazed the screen this year, “Drive” is sinfully refreshing.

It’s almost uncanny. Ryan Gosling is a superhero in the title role, appropriately billed only as “Driver.” Driver is a stuntman and a car mechanic by day, and by night, a wheelman for heists. With his watch, gloves and scorpion jacket as his costume, the film is about his transformation into said hero. And, like all heroes, or any worth watching, everything they do is for a woman.

The woman’s name is Irene (Carey Mulligan), and she lives in Driver’s apartment building. The two formally meet one-day at a local convenience store when her car breaks down. Thus begins the oddly soothing sequence of ostensibly sexual looks the two exchange between one another, simpatico in nature. And finally, as the looks become intensely unnerving, but in a heartwarming way, Irene drops some bad news: her husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac), is due to be released from prison soon.

Almost immediately following Standard’s release, he is flogged and forced to settle a debt from prison by robbing a pawnshop. Driver, taking on the role of protector, steps in and offers his services as a wheelman, under the sole circumstance of Standard and his family being left alone, his debt paid.

Of course, the heist goes wrong, and, in short, Driver ends up with 1 million dollars, and a bounty on his head. A lot of mulling is to be done over a situation like this, as Driver’s facial expressions are usually gloomy, and the only time he smiles is when he is around Irene.

Backed by a smorgasbord of a supporting cast, including Bryan Cranston, Albert Brooks, Ron Perlman and Christina Hendricks, the diversity of the players in the film aid in crafting a maliciously appealing L.A.

The film has a sparse amount of dialogue, but don’t be thrown, the omnipresence of impending doom and a richly interwoven soundtrack make up for anything the film lacks, which isn’t much.

In some scenes, the Driver, with a look of reluctant anguish on his face, surprises even himself with his actions. Calm, cooling moments occur before brutally violent scenes erupt, as “Drive” switches gears instantaneously.

Out of the soundtrack’s catalogue, the four non-instrumental songs in the film are exceptionally self-reflexive, singing of intimate scenes of desire and humanity, as one song also gives “Drive” its mantra: “A Real Hero.”

A brilliant display of chiaroscuro, the haunting emptiness of the streets of L.A., and the stripped down carnality of its characters are all what make “Drive” a gem.

Grade: A