DVD REVIEWS - Drive

Ryan Gosling's character is known only as, "The Driver," which is fitting, because that's all he does. Whether it is earning a living as a Hollywood stuntman or moonlighting as a getaway driver for hire, he does one thing and he does it extremely well. The Driver stirs up memories of Clint Eastwood's The Man with No Name. To the audience, he has no past, no family, and no emotions, or so we think.

The film is set in Los Angeles, although with the opening credits and the soundtrack, it feels like we are watching an old rerun of Miami Vice. Driver lives next door to Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son Benicio (Kaden Leos). When The Driver is introduced to his neighbors, we begin to see a glimmer of emotion and an eventually motivator for the rest of the storyline. A week later, Irene's husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac) returns home from prison and finds his wife and son warmed up to this quiet stranger. However, instead of succumbing to jealously, Standard senses that The Driver is a professional and comes to him with a need for a wheelman. The ensuing heist puts both Irene and Benicio in danger, leading The Driver to reveal his deep-seeded emotions and loyalties.

Drive, is teeming with influence from classic film noir pieces. The anticipation and tenseness that the audience experiences comes from the fact the emotions and feelings aren't out in the open, but rather hidden in the shadows. The Driver embodies these noir traits, only to have them amplified by the juxtaposition of the characters surrounding him, who bring backgrounds into the story. Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman play influential men in the world of organized crime in Los Angeles and steal the show every time they set foot in a scene. Bryan Cranston also helps to bring life to the world of The Driver, as his mentor in the world of automobiles.

On the surface, Drive may seem like another film along the vein of The Fast and the Furious: another action movie jam packed with car chases and predictable story lines. But this film places emphasis on writing, dialogue, and storytelling, leading us to care not only about the enigmatic protagonist, but also about the reason and outcome of the car chases. We aren't content to sit back and be overwhelmed by special effects and CGI. Instead, we hang on the edge of our seats, following the hero through his exploits and waiting for him to ride, or rather drive, off into the sunset.

Black Swan

Black Swan is not your typical dance movie. The audience in not presented with the beauty and grace of a ballerina as she performs on stage. Instead, director Darren Aronofsky thrusts the viewer into the tormented psychosis of the dancer as she loses herself, and her mind, as she transforms into her character.

To understand the storyline of Black Swan, it is imperative to be familiar with the classic Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky ballet Swan Lake. The premise is simple enough; a beautiful girl is transformed into a swan and only true love's kiss will set her free. But her lustful and jealous sister, the Black Swan, swoops in and seduces the prince who would have broken the spell for the White Swan. The White Swan, seized with grief, tragically ends her own life and ultimately finds freedom in her death.

The plot for Black Swan parallels that of the classic ballet. Beautiful Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman) has been selected as the new prima ballerina for her company after the incumbant Beth (Winona Ryder) had been gracefully forced out due to age. Nina is regarded as the most technically sound dancer within the company and is regarded as the perfect dancer to represent the White Swan. But the company director Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) needs the lead to play both the White and the Black Swans. Nina simply dances with precision, not emotion, and needs to lose herself in order to portray the Black Swan. This proves easier said than done, thanks to the tumultuous relationship between Nina and her mother (Barbara Hershey). A former dancer herself, Ms. Sayers shielded her daughter from every distraction in order to essentially create a perfect ballerina.

The film is predictable, as most dance films tend to be. Tension between Nina and Thomas gives way to the arrival of a new dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis), making the threat of replacement all too real. Lily embodies everything that Nina is not, which adds to the imminent crisis building inside the head of the White Swan. The rivalry between the two dancers morphs into a twisted friendship of sorts, which aides Nina in abandoning the oppression laid upon her by her mother. As Lily represents the anti-Nina, their relationship opens the door for Nina to get in touch with her dark side and transform into the Black Swan.

Black Swan displays flashes of Aronofsky's previous work The Wrester, in which the main character immerses themselves in the perfection of their craft so recklessly that their lives ultimately end in ruin. As with The Wrestler, Aronofsky's over-the-shoulder, shaky camera work is able to put the audience inside a tormented psyche to truly experience what the characters are experiencing. The audience is also subjected to a dance along the line that separates reality from the subconscious so that when the film is reaching its climax, the line is so blurred that it becomes difficult to deduce what the truth is.

As with many classical ballet's, Black Swan, is summed up in a dramatic third act. The juxtaposition of dreams and reality, as well as the parallels between the film and the ballet, conclude in one dynamic whirlwind of passion. Much like the White Swan, Nina finds herself trapped within a prison, desperately fighting to free herself. Tragically, it is suggested that there is only one way to escape, one way to become free, one way to reach ultimate perfection. It would be unwise to question exactly what happens. To do so would simply blur the line between dream and reality even further.

The Road

Being familiar with the novel The Road by Cormac McCarthy, it is an understandable train of thought to think that filmmakers would struggle in recreating the image that is created through the author’s prose. Indeed, the film version is devout a certain emotional quality to it, but that doesn’t take away from the overall product to the point of running the film.

The story of The Road is one that is very familiar with audiences, mainly due to the fact that the tale of a post-apocalyptic world has been rehashed several times over throughout the last several years. We focus on a man (Viggo Mortensen) and his boy (Kodi Smit-McPhee) trying to escape the harshness of their former home and reach the assumed safety of the southern seashore, avoiding highway robbers and cannibals in the process. There is no explanation for this recent destruction and instead focusing one’s attention to the future safety of the duo as they make their way through the desolation.

Director John Hillcoat is able to beautifully capture a certain part of McCarthy’s writing in portraying the destroyed landscape around the man and they boy. The way that McCarthy described the desolate setting was in a beautiful hopelessness and Hillcoat was able to translate this paradox onto the screen in a successful manner. Despite the lack of wildlife, vegetation, or even clean, ash-free air, the wide-angle shots of the surrounding devastation are awe-inspiring and at the same time give off the impression that all hope is lost.

The biggest difference between the film and its source material were the characters. Hillcoat was able to avoid exerting any extra effort to make the man and boy heartwarming in any way, and yet the way that they were portrayed created an immensely larger amount of emotion than perhaps McCarthy had intended. In the novel, the dialogue between the man and boy was succinct and to the point. There was a slight hint of deep affection within the interactions between the two, but just like the events leading to the apocalypse, McCarthy diverts attention from this deep connection and forces the reader to accept that it is present without any reassurance. Hillcoat does, at times, present the man as McCarthy had intended especially when dealing with his interactions with the old traveler (Robert Duvall) or the potential thief (Michael Kenneth Williams). Ultimately, however, Hillcoat and Mortensen simply portray a watered down version of the main character, not giving him anywhere near the amount of depth or power that he had in the novel.

McCarthy is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult writers to film. His prose is rivaled by only a few, which must have proven a challenge for the director, producer, and actors alike. And while the film isn’t able to capture the power and emotion that McCarthy instills in his novel, I don’t believe that they could have done any better than their final result. The film and the novel are both extremely powerful and moving and are perfect counterparts to one another: the novel hits the reader with the emotion that McCarthy intends with his beautiful and deep writing and the film is able to visualize the beautiful and hopeless desolation. And, if nothing else, the film will give readers a greater appreciation of a fantastic piece of literary work.

Star Trek

I seemed to have somehow bypassed the whole Star Trek phase. I have missed the original series with William Shatner and Leonard Nimoy (due to the fact that I wasn't born) and was too involved with cartoons and Nickelodeon to be concerned with The Next Generation. However, I have always yearned to experience Captain James T. Kirk yell, "Beam me up, Scotty!" and see Spock be the unemotional voice of reason in times of peril. Director J.J. Abrams must have read my mind, along with the minds of other wanna-be and current trekkies alike and came up with a brand new rendition of the U.S.S. Enterprise and its crew.

It doesn't take a die-hard fan to know that the Star Trek franchise is one that has been recycled over and over, which is something that concerned me with the new remake. Would this movie be able to break new ground with these familiar characters, or would it be nothing more than a nostalgic flashback that simply regurgitated old material? The surprising result was a combination of the two. Familiar elements were used, but this was done so in a way that seemed new and invigorating.

The film takes its audience back to before James T. Kirk (Chris Pine) even set foot on the U.S.S. Enterprise, utilizing all of the same characters from the original series, only at a much earlier time in their lives. The crew responds to a distress call and finds themselves up against time-traveling Romulans, led by their captain Nero (Eric Bana). The inclusion of the time travel element in film always raises a red flag because so much can go wrong and make everything a chaotic mess. However, the concept works perfectly and helps to create fun aspects of the movie, such as the young Spock (Zachary Quinto) meeting his future self, played by none other than Leonard Nimoy himself.

The production value was absolutely amazing and was able to make the audience forget that this movie is based on defying reality. Black holes are not gateways to other dimensions and times. The accuracy of warp speed is obviously debatable. How is it possible that Scotty (Simon Pegg) can transport three different people from two separate places to one location and yet Kirk and Hikaru Sulu (John Cho) are forced to parachute onto the Romulan drill in order to destroy it? But the fun and excitement comes from suspending that disbelief and embracing the fiction of the sci-fi genre. And of course, having Dr. Leonard McCoy (Karl Urban) shouting, "Dammit man, I'm a doctor, not a physicist!" makes things enjoyable as well. The rest of the crew was filled out perfectly, with Nyota Uhura (Zoe Saldana) as the communications expert and Spock's secret love, and Pavel Chekov (Anton Yelchin) ironically heading up the communications of the ship with his extremely thick Russian accent.

The thing that I was excited for the most was the doors that were opened for the franchise. This movie was a simple re-energized version of the original series, full of catch phrases and familiarities. But now that the new, younger characters have been established, perhaps the next movie will test the personalities of the crew instead of simply re-establishing them. Regardless, the Star Trek remake was a fun and exciting experience with an excellent cast that would entertain the entire spectrum of Star Trek fans.

I Love You, Man

Heading into my umpteenth Judd Apatowesque film, I assumed that I knew what to expect: a fun, lighthearted story that hits a major obstacle that leaves the main character brokenhearted, only for everything to be conveniently fixed 15 minutes before the end of the show. Oh, and throw in as much raunchy and crude material as possible. And yes, these movies are starting to lose their appeal. But every time a new one appears, I feel myself being inexplicably drawn to the theater.

Fortunately, I Love You, Man was a little more lighthearted and not as crude, making it more enjoyable than a bunch of sex-innuendo. Friendless Peter Klaven (Paul Rudd) is pressed hard by his wife-to-be to find a 'BFF' to serve as his best man. However, Klaven's complete social ineptness makes every man-date a complete disaster, including a drinking game gone completely wrong. But after meeting Sydney Fife (Jason Segal), things seem to take a turn for the best. Several terrible nickname attempts and Rush jam sessions later, Klaven seems to have found his best man. But when Klaven's fiancée Zooey (Rashida Jones) feels neglected from all the time the two guys spend together, it becomes a choice between two different partnerships. Moviegoers shouldn't fret, however, because it's quite obvious where the plot is going.

Rudd and Segal work terrific together. Despite a cookie cutter storyline, these two are so talented that they are able to remain hilarious and human at the same time. Segal seems to brighten up the screen no matter what he does. His portrayal of Sydney Fife depicts everything a guy would love to have in a friend, if not themselves. Rudd uses impeccable timing to make himself incredibly awkward, much to the delight of the audience. The best moments revolve around him trying unbelievably hard to appear loose and casual. Adding in a brilliant supporting cast doesn't hurt either. J.K. Simmons, Jane Curtin, and Andy Samberg make up Klaven's family and Jon Favreau and Jamie Pressly serve as a scene stealing couple from hell.

Overall, this movie is simply funny, regardless of the predictable plot line. Yes, it does have its share of stupid gross-out jokes, which is a staple of any movie in this genre. But more importantly, the movie produces comedy in a wholesome way, in its observations, dialogue and physical behavior. Rudd and Segal were able to make their audience laugh from beginning to end, which is what comedies are for. It is the bromance to end all bromances. As Klaven said of having Fife as his best friend, "it's sweet, sweet hanging." The same goes for this movie.

Gran Torino

Gran Torino tells the story of an aging Walt Kowalski (Clint Eastwood) who is forced to confront his tainted past after the death of his wife and the influx of the Hmong community into his neighborhood. Kowalski is a mean, Pabst Blue Ribbon chugging racist who wants nothing to do with his new neighbors, or anyone else for that matter. It's obvious that Kowalski carries around a tremendous amount of emotional baggage, and it appears that repressing those thoughts is a full time job.

Kowalski slings racial slurs so often that the cultural shock wears off within the first half hour of the movie, making these offensive remarks more and more comical as the film progresses. But as he becomes more and more involved with the neighboring Hmong family, the more he realizes that he has more in common with the "gooks" than with his own remaining family. It is for this reason why he helps the shy and quiet neighbor Thao (Bee Vang) to get a job and help him to "become a man." Or why he rescues Thao's older sister (Ahney Her) from a harassing gang of black thugs. But even as he shows his softer side, Walt maintains his reputation by calling his friends "zipper head" and "dragon lady." But these slurs have nearly evolved into simple terms of endearment.

Gran Torino tells the story of the opening of minds to the different people around you. But because you see it through the eyes of a once cantankerous old man, the story is lifted to a whole new level. Walt does not make excuses for the way he views different races and he refers to them through the use of slurs throughout the entirety of the film. But because he doesn't apologize for who he is and of the continued usage of racial insults, when he does come to the realization of his common humanity with his neighbors, it makes it seem real and not something scripted to leave the audience with a sappy feel-good story.

Eastwood shows off his versatility once again, directing himself in his own movie, and doing one hell of a job. He even receives a singing credit for the song that plays during the end credits and it is truly a real shame that this movie didn't receive any attention from the Academy. Regardless, through his traditional toughness, Clint is able to touch the heart of his audience with a fabulous film, one racial slur at a time.