It
wouldn't be true or fair to say these films have nothing in common
with each other or in my liking of them, for I'm sure if I thought
long and hard enough about them I'd find some common ground, perhaps
some similarities. Even so it's hard to explain why I'm drawn to this
yet to be named film. Because it's violent; it's bloody. And morally,
well, it shakes you as it shakes the foundations of the anti-hero.
The moral line gets confused, the moral line gets crossed, and once
crossed the choices made have to be followed through on. There is no
going back. There's a spiral effect, so that an understated man
already doing wrong has to do more wrong. To correct, to balance, to
pay back the wrongs others have done by committing further and more
violent wrongs himself. His moral code is screwed up. But life has
traps, and sometimes to get out of those traps the windows of
morality have to be broken. For one to be saved, another has to be
hunted.
This
film is Drive.
Where
Ryan Gosling is at his best. As the quiet, calm in every situation,
toothpick chewing Driver. Who knows his skill lies in driving and
makes no apology for exploiting it, but nor is he boastful. This is
not a man with an ego on display, this is a man with a purpose. He
says little, speaking only when words need to be spoken. His driving
does the talking; his fists, like his mouth, talk only when
necessary: when he's protecting his neighbour (and love interest),
Irene, and when he's the loose end driving around.
The
character of Driver is the film. There's something about him. There's
something inside him (and yes, I pinched that from the soundtrack)
that you as the viewer want to understand, but you never can. He's a
mystery, an enigma. Cool and sure, or at times, in the presence of
Irene, seeming nervy, and in others cool and capable of violence, of
spilling blood. He's obviously not passionless as otherwise Irene
wouldn't bring out the protector in him, nor Shannon his sense of
loyalty, and yet there are barriers. He can seem distant, detached,
expressionless. In certain situations he holds back something of
himself.
It
should be a gloomy film; it's not. Though I don't know why that
is...perhaps because the portrayal of Driver is so interesting. He
doesn't have to do what he does, but he does. Is he a lesser man
because he does? Or would he be a lesser man if he didn't? I'm as
torn as him. But is he torn though? It's hard to tell just as it is
hard to explain my own condoning of his actions. These are not his
battles. Irene's husband is the start of trouble and all the problems
that then subsequently follow. Love takes him down this road; love
makes the darker side of his personality show itself. And yet somehow
his reasoning doesn't seem wrong. This is what had to be done.
Irene's reaction to this other side of him: his brutality, his
coldness is understandable but comes across as ungrateful also. Like
Sarah in the Labyrinth,
she seems to lack awareness of all that Driver has done for her.
Whereas Driver doesn't seem to realise why she should be so alarmed
by his actions. There was always going to be consequences; there was
always going to be a leave-taking. The attraction was always going to
be hard to explain.
Picture credit: Drive movie poster 2011
Written November 2019.
