The Driver
Walter Hill’s most important contribution to filmmaking is probably the production company he cofounded bringing the world the Alien franchise, which produced two of the finest pieces of science fiction filmmaking to date and launched the directorial careers of Ridley Scott, James Cameron, and David Fincher. However, Walter Hill is a writer/director in his own right and has had a remarkable career of mostly lesser known, indie films that often went on to become huge cult classics or help redefine genres, such as The Warriors, Streets of Fire, 48 Hours and its sequel, Brewster’s Millions, and this movie, his second ever in the director’s chair, The Driver.
As a cult classic, the movie isn’t for everyone and I’m decidedly in the camp that it wasn’t really for me. However, I also can’t look past its undeniable impact on films and filmmakers that I really do like, for which I think it deserves a lot of praise.
In a classic case of “it takes all kinds,” the very things it is often praised for are the things I didn’t particularly like about it. The film is absolutely stripped to the bone. While I can sometimes like that in a kind of no-frills thriller or war movie, see my review of Greyhound as an example, in The Driver it often felt like they had taken away more than was needed. Don’t get me wrong, the way the story cuts out frivolities can be cool and very fun. I like the fact that none of the characters have a name, it gave the film this aura of impersonality and total detachment that is quite affecting. People are either pseudonyms, nicknames, or never referred to in a personal way at all. I like that very little context is given to the inciting action of the story. We come into both the world and the first heist essentially in media res, which thrusts you into the action in this amazingly engaging kind of way.
Where the film gets into trouble is in its characters and how that affects the plot. Along with having no name, the characters don’t have much personality or motivation either. The cat and mouse antagonism between the main police detective and the titular driver doesn’t resonate as well when both halves fail to feel like real people with real desires. They seem to exist only to serve the plot. The side characters aren’t much better. The assisting cops and detectives, the driver’s intermediary, the other criminals, and even the main female lead are all stripped down so aggressively that they are functionally reduced to one note performances.
On the note of performances, I found much of the acting to be too flat to be fun. There is an inherent coolness we feel when a character comes across as unbothered by the wild things that are happening around them, and we cheer for the characters who carefully and cleverly navigate treacherous situations with precision and without fear. However, the best of these characters also allow us to see, in the subtlety of their performances, that this is intentional stoicism, a useful facade. Baby in Baby Driver shows warmth and personality around his foster father and Debora, only maintaining his cool demeanor when he is in his criminal persona. The anonymous driver in Drive has a low simmer of rage through much of the movie, finally brought to the fore in the brutality of the elevator scene. This turns these effortlessly cool cats into actual people, which makes them stronger characters and more memorable protagonists. Ryan O’Neal is always subdued, always unaffected, and, baring one small moment of brashness about the cops chasing him, always remains functionally emotionless. It’s honestly kind of boring.
The irony, of course, is that both Baby Driver and Drive are movies that were very clearly inspired by this one. All three are crime sagas about essentially nameless getaway drivers who navigate complex criminal underworlds with a kind of ironic detachment. Drive even opens in media res with an elaborate car chase, escaping after a big heist, through artfully lit nighttime Los Angeles. And that’s where I think the movie earns its flowers. Not necessarily for its enduring qualities as a film, but for its enduring influence on other filmmakers. The ideas of The Driver are really solid and worthy of being referenced and remixed by other talented filmmakers.
Tarantino considers it one of his favorite films and people have identified probable references to it in Pulp Fiction, Kill Bill, and Death Proof. Michael Mann’s Thief and Heat also seem to owe a lot to The Driver, especially Heat’s slick portrayal of trying to survive increasingly unhinged conspirators while also trying to outwit an unrelenting bloodhound of a detective. Both the “wheelman” archetype of The Transporter and the neon noir aesthetic of John Wick could be credited to this movie’s influence, as well. As far as I know, only Edgar Wright has ever admitted the direct influence of this movie on his own, but it is hard to think of films like this before The Driver’s release (especially American ones) and not hard to think of many after and that, in and of itself, is a kind of accomplishment.
Would Recommend: If you love movies like Heat, Drive, etc. and want to see what films their directors looked to for inspiration.
Would Not Recommend: If you enjoy robust characters and complex human drama.