Mile-o-meter is running all the way back to the 1980s to conduct an existential Heist movie takes off his cap on the back catalogs Walter Hill, John Carpenter and Michael Mann. Made with expert aplomb, as the Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn, this piece under a cloudy sky and a narcotic Thrums LA synth-pop soundtrack, as it rises next to a rifle in Hollywood stuntman in danger. Fasten your seatbelts, it's an adventure.
Ryan Gosling shines the driver, who turns the car for a living and sometimes the lights of the moon as a refuge from man's jewel thieves and bank robbers, giving them five minutes of his time, after which they are alone . Driver soon realizes, is an American riff Samouraï solitary Jean-Pierre Melville, smiling and calm, his moral compass for the neutral. Then one day she shares a lift neighbor Irene (Carey Mulligan, playing thoughtfully), and runs a clean way. Irene is an ex-prisoner, ex-husband called quasi-Standard (Oscar Isaac), who needs to do one last job to pay his debts, and care for his family. Inevitably, the robbery goes wrong. Now, the driver has to run, take your luggage bag and drive a couple of gangsters (performed with enthusiasm by Ron Perlman and Albert Brooks), followed by another right-back.
Refn made his name with the Pusher trilogy and ran wild with the Vikings of Valhalla Rising last year. Hard grabs in the role of a tourist, of course, to dive into the atmosphere of torpor in southern California. He spends his time on the road or cruising the strip-mails, interrupted only for brief bursts of dialogue and sudden eruptions of violence that had an audience of Cannes rocking and whooping in their seats. If the road looks familiar from a hundred other movies, either. Driver certainly heading straight to hell, and dive down has a certain dramatic intensity.
Refn film plays in the main competition at Cannes, where it is against the likes of The Tree of Life, Le Havre and the artist. He can not win, not win, and almost certainly should not win. It is too consciously retro, too much of a series of fresh, shiny surfaces, as opposed to a rounded, the drama of texture. In all cases, the B-movies of this kind are rarely directed towards victory. They are disruptive, disreputable intruders at the party, pointed to disaster and tried to meet a bloody end. The most they can hope for is going down in a blaze of glory. The reader, with bells on.
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