Drive (2011) Review

Nicolas Winding Refn’s 2011 action thriller Drive opens with Ryan Gosling’s unnamed getaway driver telling a client the conditions of his operation: “You give me a time and a place, I give you a five minute window. Anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours, no matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that, you’re on your own.” After seeing Gosling’s first heist of the movie, we learn that his “day job” is as a Hollywood stunt driver, working with Shannon (Bryan Cranston), an auto shop owner with links to organized crime. Apart from this, we never really learn anything about the Driver; it’s fair to say that this enigma is intentional on the part of Refn and screenwriter Hossein Amini.

Shannon, it seems, is the Driver’s only friend- that is, until Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her young son Benicio move in next door to him. Irene and the Driver strike up a what starts as a friendship and gradually becomes something more, and initially, life is comparatively good. All this changes, however, when Irene’s husband (Oscar Isaac) is released from prison, dragging both his family and the driver into a violent robbery and its equally violent aftermath.

The cinematography of Drive is amazing. The low-key lighting and heavy shadows used throughout much of the film create an atmosphere that is seedy and unsettling, but also stylish and cool. This, though, is not an artistic decision that exists in a vacuum. The film carefully hooks us into viewing the Driver’s lifestyle as being thrilling and enviable, making it all the more shocking when the story demonstrates that this isn’t the case. Particularly outstanding is a the scene in which the Driver bloodily kills a would-be assassin in a lift as Irene watches. Rather than the normal modus operandi for deeply emotional scenes of using close-ups, the camera sticks largely to wider shots, highlighting Gosling and Mulligan’s sense of vulnerability and isolation.

The soundtrack’s heavy use of electronic music adds a distinct feeling of modernity to the film, as does the use of a stylized typeface and neon pink for the credits. There is also a sense of artificiality about the film’s aesthetic, which cements a cynical, distrustful tone that mirrors the worldview of its anonymous anti-hero. His world is one where you cannot afford to trust anybody if you value your life.

Ryan Gosling does very well in the lead role, conveying his character’s streetwise and quiet-confident personality. He exudes a quiet air of authority through much of the film, though this doesn’t hamper his ability to show emotion when the script calls for it. Ron Perlman, as psychopathic mobster Nino, deserves praise for his performance, giving subtlety to a role that many other actors would have overplayed to the point of being cartoonish. Bryan Cranston portrays the struggling auto shop owner Shannon with an underlying sense of sadness, creating a deep-rooted sympathy for his character that is usually reserved for lead protagonists. Carey Mulligan, it turns out, has great chemistry with Gosling, a fact which immeasurably raises the emotional stakes of the film’s romantic subplot. Oscar Isaac is good too, but to film’s detriment his character gets too little screen time to max out his full potential.

The action scenes are well-directed as well, always making sure that we know what’s going on- except, of course, when we’re not meant to know what’s going on. They are also well-paced, maximizing the potential for adrenaline release. Although the violence is very graphic, the effect is not to glorify it but to convey a true sense of its horror. What’s more, there’s rarely “action for the sake of action”; every set piece serves an important function in relation to the plot.

Drive is not completely without its flaws. I found it at times difficult to connect emotionally to the protagonist, which was perhaps an inadvertent side effect of his anonymity, and the ending did feel a little too close to being a Deus Ex Machina due to its lack of setup. There were parts of the storyline that I found difficult to follow at times, but thankfully, those elements were significantly minor that I could still understand the characters’ main objectives throughout the story.

When discussing Drive it is hard to avoid comparisons with similar films. Although its plot premise closely resembles that of Edgar Wright’s Baby Driver, the two movies are a galaxy apart in terms of style and tone. (Baby Driver is a comedy, for a start). To my my mind, the most apt comparison is to Dan Gilroy’s Nightcrawler from 2014. Both films are neo-noirs that follow an enigmatic protagonist around contemporary Los Angeles, using low-key lighting and electronic scores to create a pessimistic tone. The action in Drive is far more stylized than that in Gilroy’s film, true, but both movies still err on the side of verisimilitude — that is to say, they both feel like they could easily take place in our world. Neither film has an especially bright colour palette, a decision which makes the rare occurrences of bright hues in both films stand out all the more. If forced at gunpoint to pick between the two, I would have to say that Nightcrawler is the better film, because it has more depth and offers more social commentary than Drive.

Overall, I would strongly recommend Drive to fans of high-octane action as well as to those who enjoy slow-burn films noirs. In fact, the relationship between Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan is so well-written and well-acted that even people who normally prefer rom-coms over more violent fare. Though not a perfect film, it’s one of the better ones you’ll see this year.