Urban Cowboy

I have something to say to Nicolas Winding Refn: You owe me my next manicure.

Drive, the Ryan Gosling-starring simmer of an almost-dialogueless thriller that earned the Danish filmmaker the best-director prize at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year, is a beyond-intense ride that marches to the beat of its own throwback-y, stylish drum.

And I likey.

My nails, which I bit throughout the film? Not that much.

Gosling plays a Hollywood stuntman by day/getaway-car drive by night that goes simply by...Driver. Unlike in real life, the actor plays an antihero of the first rate – I mean, obviously, anyone who moonlights as a serviceman for armed thieves to supplement his income has some morality issues, but the guy has a code: he doesn’t get involved or carry a gun or get into the business of hurting people (Bryan Cranston plays his legit and not-so-legit business manager and father figure, someone who, I guess, keeps him in line).

He doesn’t say much; keeps to himself; and, much like the film, marches to the beat of his own drum. But much to his surprise, he meets his neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan) cute, and then his entire life changes, and so does Drive, for that matter.

It transcends its own genre-busting to almost create its own. I can’t explain it – you must see for yourself how it combines perverse romanticism with lyricism with look-away-from-the-screen doings.

But I digress.

In a way, both Driver and Irene in need of some saving. He needs to be rescued from a downward spiral bound to catch up with him; she needs to have someone in her life she and her young son can depend on, since her main man, Standard (Oscar Isaac), is in the big house.

When Standard gets sprung, he soon clashes with Driver. The ex-con knows very well the cool guy with the retro-looking jacket with the scorpion on the back has been coming around lately, so there’s tension between the two right off the bat. It’s not long before both their paths start running parallel to each other instead of crisscross to each other, though, because Standard has a protection-while-in debt he needs to pay to a West Coast mobster (Ron Perlman) ASAP, lest he wants his family to pay the piper for him. (Playing against type, Albert Brooks plays another mobster of the most ruthless order.)

When Driver catches wise to this, he decides to help. He’ll drive Standard to a...uh...mandated job, which goes terribly awry and spins out of control double-fast and super-violently before turning deadly. Like a cowboy, he’s driven by love to give up all the bull, ride in his hot wheels, and save his damsel.

Drive has been the love-it-or-hate-it proposition of the fall, but I loved it. I found it to be quite original, and while I can see how it would not be everybody’s cup of tea, there is something that can’t, shan’t be denied, and that is that Gosling is Hollywood’s coolest cat, and he makes every bad thing his director has him do disturbingly attractive.

And that, you gotta admit, is quite the feat when it comes to a film like this one.

My Rating ****

Photo: FilmDistrict.