Drive Delivers: 4 Wheels; 10 Stars

Rating: 10/10 (13 October 2011)

A seeming homage to '80s suspense movies like Manhunter, Drive is as deliberate and compelling as Ryan Gosling himself, who, ahem, wants to prove to us that he's not a baby anything anymore. He's all grown up, and he wants us to know he's put his "Notebook" in his back pocket, climbed behind the wheel, and is all about driving us crazy.
What makes a great movie? Simple plot; complicated characters. And Drive delivers. At the end of it all, it's a whole hell of a lot of ado about nothing, really. None of it needed to happen, which is the point. Deciding to become involved, that choice by Driver, is what sets everything in motion.
There is not a word out of place in this script, not a moment, not a choice, not a quiet glance, not a stomp or slice or curve or blink that wasn't intentional and rife with symbolism. It's, quite simply, the tightest film I've seen in years. And it stays with you like a dream you can't figure out. It leaves you tied in a knot, but don't expect a ribbon or a bow; Drive leaves you with just enough questions to keep you turning down those mental side streets.
Ryan Gosling captures the quiet rage of this character doing a lot of bad things to bad people in the pursuit of doing one good thing for two innocents. Although Driver is a bit, well, lost and messed up, there is something so beautiful and vulnerable about how powerfully he acts out while trying to become "a real human being and a real hero." As screwed up as he is, this movie leaves you wanting to be as cool as Driver, even if it means you have to drive all night, alone, both craving and avoiding another honest moment because you know it will send you off the rails again.
And then there's that kiss.
Boys, let me let you in on a little secret. There's something about leaning and angled shoulders that really gets us. If you can perfect that, you're in. There's this moment in the elevator (which is one of the most perfect scenes ever to grace the screen). That one scene delivers what every movie should: an emotional roller-coaster. It goes from this precise anticipation to a perfect moment of abandon (still filled with the promise of violence and, therefore, a supremely palpable tension) to a startling and gruesome anger. (Well done, sfx crew!) That one scene is a perfectly encapsulated character study of Driver: a troubled, tortured scene for a troubled, tortured soul. The love story goes from maybe to yes to closing doors, shrinking beneath symbolic subtext. An entire movie in a minute: perfection.
From every aspect: precision writing, flawless acting (I never thought saying Albert Brooks wasn't funny would be a compliment!), artful direction and cinematography, extremely believable sfx, even down to the costumes and that damn jacket (don't try this at home) that gets better as it gets bloodier, and the seedy LA locations, this movie just Gets. It. Right.
The music is as hypnotic as the film, another homage, it would seem, to soundtracks from another era, such as Blade Runner. It has that '80s Casio feel but with an updated groove.
You know that a movie's hit you where it hurts when you find yourself wondering if a fictional character is okay. Is he eating? Is he sleeping? Does he need a damn hug? A new jacket? Is he out of gas? Is there fresh blood on his gloves? Is he on the streets–right now–cool and cautious, somehow profoundly capable but equally crippled, a compact explosive driving an Impala?
And can I get five minutes?
I saw it again, and it's even more perfect the second time around the track. So stop reading reviews, get in your car, and drive to the theater right now. This movie deserves your time, your money, and your respect.
The storm inside him escaping like invisible dark matter, trying to extract black and white from those gray eyes, betraying the need to just keep the wheels turning
Drive: 4 Wheels; 10 Stars.