Yes, DRIVE is as good as you've been hearing it is.
In its finest moments, it evokes the sublime perfection of films like HEAT or RESERVOIR DOGS or THE GODFATHER, and I don't think those comparisons are (too) hyperbolic. There's a mastery of filmmaking on display here that is genuinely thrilling to watch. Or perhaps I should say hear.
Because while the photography of DRIVE is undeniably gorgeous, in turns washed out by an uncaring L.A. sun and then plunged into fluorescent-tinged darkness, it's the film's soundtrack that is particularly noteworthy to me. When I say soundtrack, I don't just mean the film's score and use of pop music, although those are incredible, but rather the entire auditory experience of DRIVE.
This is a patient movie, one that takes time to express its point and revels in silence. Gosling's performance is made up of long stares and slow burns, and every word he speaks seems to have more emphasis because of it. His knuckles do more emoting in this film than Ashton Kutcher has done in his entire cinematic career.
There are at least four shots where Gosling's knuckles express emotions like anger, tension, and fear, while his face betrays none of those things. It's a neat trick of contextual meaning that a sound like scrunching leather driving gloves can express all of these things, and it's a small example of DRIVE's audio mastery.
I've seen DRIVE twice in the five days it's been out for, and I'll undoubtedly catch it at least once more before it leaves theatres. You should, too.
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