You could almost feel the seconds tick by. Every scene seemed to be a still frame that drew you in. A momentary clip of art that was created to elucidate some feeling. This is Drive.
The movie itself seems to have very little to do with the actual act of driving. When I left the theater I really only remember one thing: Ryan Gosling’s smirk that seemed to hide something dark and sinister.
The soundtrack to the movie is haunting and brilliant. It moves you along as if you are floating weightlessly on a primordial ooze. It is sort of an aural marijuana the way it detaches you from reality and sets you adrift on a parallel universe.
Each step of this movie seemed so intentional. The pacing was achingly slow at times, but instead of feeling cumbersome, it drew you in, it pulled at you like a vortex or a black hole leaving your heart pounding and senses heightened.
Drive wasn’t so much a movie, but an experience.
This film was directed by Nicolas Winding Refn.