Worse than Scott Pilgrim.

Rating: 2/10 (20 April 2018)

I heard in an interview that Edgar Wright compiled the music for Baby Driver before writing the script. The music (not my cup of tea, but others seem to like it) has clearly been given a lot of consideration; the script, not so much.
A hackneyed tale of a young heist driver (Ansel Elgort) indebted to a crime boss (Kevin Spacey), Baby Driver is pure vacuous tripe, a severe case of style over substance, Wright once again proving that, if his film ain't got Pegg and Frost in it, it ain't worth watching.
As the viewer, we are intended to empathise with kind-hearted Baby, who would rather provide for his deaf foster father and drive into the sunset with pretty waitress Debora (Lily James) than spend his life outrunning cops, but after a few minutes in his company, I wanted the irritating git out of the picture, his dancing, miming lyrics and playing air instruments quickly getting my goat. I could fully appreciate why the other criminals found him so annoying.
Wright handles the car chase scenes well enough, but when the tyres aren't screeching, the film is absolutely horrible, the characters talking like rejects from a bad Tarantino movie, the rapid romance between Baby and Debora utterly unbelievable, and the endless calculated cool scenes merely grating on the nerves.
My advice to Edgar Wright: give Pegg and Frost a call and break out the Cornettos.