Drive is confused. Nevertheless,
it works on the surface and provides an engrossing hour and a half at the
movies.
Drive’s core story purports to be the parable of the turtle and the
scorpion. You know the story:
Scorpion asks Turtle for a ride across the river. Turtle says, “No.
When we’re halfway across, you’ll sting me.” Scorpion replies, “Think about it: if I sting you, we both
die. What would be the point of
that?” Turtle sees Scorpion’s
logic and tell him to climb aboard.
Halfway across the river, Scorpion stings Turtle. As they’re both drowning, Turtle says,
“Why did you sting me?” Scorpion
replies, “You knew what I was when you agreed to carry me.”
In the film, Ryan
Gosling’s driver wears a satin jacket with a scorpion embroidered on the
back. Toward the end of the
narrative, he tells one of his adversaries, “If you carry a scorpion, you’re
going to get stung” (or something to that effect). Problem is, his adversaries don’t even know who he is until
it’s too late. The parable doesn’t
hold, because Drive’s real point is
“don’t mess with scorpions.”
Ok, so something got
lost between drafts. Nevertheless,
Drive succeeds because it features an
interesting lead, supporting characters with surprising subtlety, and a
sufficiently complex plot to keep us on our toes until the closing credits.
Ryan Gosling plays
Driver, a character similar to Alain Delon’s Jef Costello in Le Samourai and George Clooney’s Jack in
The American. An introvert with a gift and a passion
for his work, he says little and controls his face and body language. This makes him a cool, yet blank,
slate: a projection screen for the aspirations and/or desires of the
audience. When he notices the
disturbingly skinny Carey Mulligan, he toys with making the single greatest
mistake a character like him can make: he connects. You probably think you know where this is going, and you may
well be right. However, it still
works because Mulligan’s character isn’t just another damsel to distress. She’s a fully realized human being,
perhaps more fully realized than our protagonist; and so are the people to whom
she’s connected, and to whom they’re connected. Even the villains fascinate us with their back stories and
their agendas, a fascination facilitated by remarkably unique, yet effective, casting.
Soon enough, these
characters find themselves embroiled in a well-executed story of trust, doubt, and
revelation that engages our imagination and helps us forget that we’ve seen
this protagonist’s character arc before and we know how it’s going to end.
The result? Though
it’s little mixed up on its central parable, Drive delivers a tale well told in an immersive world. You could do much, much worse.
