‘Drive’ excels

In theaters Friday: Abduction, Killer Elite, Machine Gun Preacher, Moneyball

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That star Ryan Gosling doesn’t utter a single word on screen—though there is a brief, artful voiceover-by-phone—until about 15 minutes into the new crime thriller Drive only underlines the perfection of the film’s gripping introduction to a near mythically drawn new antihero. Who knew the star of The Notebook could make such a daring bid to be the next Charles Bronson and Steve McQueen? An art house action flick, Drive gives Gosling that opportunity, and he guns it.

As a Hollywood stunt driver, Gosling’s strong silent type makes some extra scratch as a getaway driver for hire, and with a pulsing, 1980s-synth score by Cliff Martinez and cinematography dripping with the wilds of L.A.’s skuzzy neon jungle, we are immediately thrust into a heist-in-progress. The tension built is incredible. We know very little about this guy other than he’s breaking the law, but we root for him. Mission accomplished.

No one is as elusive and inventive behind the wheel as Gosling’s unnamed character, and when his auto shop boss played by the great Bryan Cranston sees dollar signs, Cranston approaches a local mob boss about funding their bid to launch a racing team. The mafia kingpin, played eerily casual by Albert Brooks, agrees to give Cranston and Gosling a leg up, but that leg comes with a mighty shackle. If anything goes wrong, their necks are on the line.

When Gosling’s next getaway gig—a hold-up of a pawn shop—goes horribly wrong, he finds himself in the opposite corner of his heavy financial backer and $1 million in hot, stolen cash on his hands. He must to find a way to survive and protect the neighbor and her young child that he has come to love.

Danish director Nicolas Winding Refn has a refined eye for beautiful imagery, both literal and metaphorical in nature, and what appears to be a deep love of extremes. With minimal dialog but convincing performances, images and evocative, ethereal soundtrack, Drive’s romantic scenes between Gosling and Carey Mulligan are moving and poignant, a real anchor for the surrounding chaos. The film’s action is just as intense. There is real bloodlust here, and the mood swings of the picture only add to its unexpected thrills and charms.

Surprisingly, Albert Brooks makes for a chilling adversary. Like Martin Short’s somewhat darkened turn on Damages, Brooks channels that nonchalant, everyday cunning that some elite comedians can do frighteningly well. Proving the term “drive” does not simply apply to automobiles in this case, Gosling is a convincing enigma, a brutal cipher for righteous vengeance, and when he gets a hammer in his hands it is something to both shudder and to see. His arc is that of the tragic hero who may never have all that he wants but finds ways to get those he loves the things that they need.