Except at the place where I get paid to, of course.

Drive is good. You can tell Drive is going to be good from the opening scene, where Ryan Gosling, moonlighting as a getaway driver for a pair of robbers, shuttles them away from the crime scene through a net of cop cars and helicopters. It isn’t a car chase, though Gosling flips a couple sweet maneuvers along the way. It’s more of a car hide, with Gosling slipping out of view, holing up, and finally blending in with the crowd to escape being caught. It’s tense, it’s gripping, and it’s a hugely welcome break from your typical “vroom vroom VROOM bash *cop car flips over median, explodes*” chase scene.

This movie should be big for director Nicolas Winding Refn. It’s incredibly stylish and awash with righteous performances out of Gosling, Bryan Cranston, Albert Brooks, Ron Perlman, and Oscar Isaac, who I don’t think I’ve seen before but whupped all kinds of dramatic ass as a man released from prison to find Gosling sniffing around Isaac’s wife Carey Mulligan. It’s a non-action action movie that’ll have you questioning whether Gosling is a hero or maybe just a psychopath who’s finally found the chance to lash out.

I liked Drive so much it convinced me to finally watch Refn’s Valhalla Rising, which had been languishing on my Netflix queue for some time. Unfortunately, the review never appeared online, but I liked that one too. Not for everyone, though–very moody and light on dialogue. Drive is, too, but it should have much wider appeal as–perversely–a sort of indie crime drama romance sandwiched around or possibly by meaty scenes of vicious action.

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I am a Science Fiction and Fantasy author, based in LA. Read More.
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