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Tag Archives: car chases

4/12/15 (Part One): The Good Time Boys

02 Saturday May 2015

Posted by phillipkaragas in Uncategorized

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action films, action-comedies, Australian films, BMX Bandits, Brian Trenchard-Smith, Brigitte Jean Allen, car chases, Chad Law, Christopher Morris, Christopher Sommers, cinema, Damien Garvey, Dead End Drive-In, Drive Hard, driving films, Evan Law, film reviews, films, get-away driver, heist, hostage situation, hot pursuit, husband-wife relationship, Jason Wilder, John Cusack, mobsters, Movies, multiple writers, odd couple, road movie, set in Australia, stolen money, Thomas Jane, Tony O'Loughlan, unlikely allies, unlikely hero, writer-director, Yesse Spence, Zoe Ventoura

Drive Hard Poster

Among old and reliable action movie tropes, there are few that are older and more reliable than mismatched “odd couple” duos. From 48 Hrs. (1982) to Midnight Run (1988)…from Turner & Hooch (1989) to Tango & Cash (1989)…from Rush Hour (1998) to the Lethal Weapon franchise, you know the drill: put a straight-laced, by-the-book square with a lone-wolf, loose-cannon hothead and let the sparks fly! When the formula works, it’s an almost bullet-proof set-up: there’s a good reason why films like Lethal Weapon and Die Hard (1988) are still influencing modern action films almost 30 years after they left the multiplexes.

The success of said formula, however, winds up being pretty dependent on a very important part of the equation: if the mismatched partners don’t gel, if their chemistry lies somewhere between “uncomfortably awkward” and “dead on arrival,” well…let’s just say that your odds of getting a decent film aren’t great. In the case of classic “Ozsploitation” filmmaker Brian Trenchard-Smith’s newest film, Drive Hard (2014), we get enough of the elements in their proper places to insure a fun, fast and fairly breezy good time: would we expect anything less from the twisted genius behind Dead End Drive-In (1986)?

The “square” in this particular equation is Peter Roberts (Thomas Jane, sporting a ridiculously fluffy hair-do that would make a ’70s-era catalog model jealous), a former American race car driver who now toils in obscurity as an Australian driving instructor. He’s got a wife and young daughter, dreams of opening his own racing school and just enough spare cash to insure that he’ll probably be teaching yahoos what a stick-shift is for the next 90 years. Peter’s the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off his back and spend the rest of the day complaining about being cold.

The “wild one” in this equation is Simon Keller (John Cusack), another American ex-pat. Simon (who pronounces his name in a way that sounded suspiciously like “Killer” to me) hires Peter to teach him to drive, even though he seems to be surprisingly adept around said vehicle for a complete novice. Keller’s a sophisticated smartass with a propensity for droll observations and a rather unsettling interest in Peter’s former occupation.

As luck would have it, Keller doesn’t want a driving instructor: he wants a get-away driver. Things get more complicated when Keller reveals that they’ve just ripped off Mario Rossi (Christopher Morris), a hot-headed mob boss who previously stiffed Simon on a job: this is payback and poor Peter is just the schmuck who’s found himself stuck in the middle. Except, of course, that good ol’ Peter eventually starts to, you know…kinda dig all this action. After all, he gets to race again: what’s that thing they say about the gift horse? He also gets out of the house at a time when things are particularly rough between him and his wife, Tessa (Yesse Spence), thereby avoiding any and all difficult conversations about sticky subjects like “responsibility” and the “future.”

While the fugitives burn rubber, their own relationship begins to thaw, allowing for the kind of uneasy détente that’s necessary for this sort of film: Keller is revealed to be more than just a criminal mastermind, while Peter gets to finally assert himself and start to loosen up. It’s not all Summer vacation in the Hamptons, however, as our intrepid travelers are pursued by a pair of extremely earnest Special Agents (Zoe Ventoura and Jason Wilder), along with Rossi and Chief Inspector Smith (Damien Garvey), a lawman so used to sitting in the mobster’s pocket that he may as well be a young kangaroo. As the forces continue to mass and the odds get slimmer, Peter and Simon will learn one important thing: if you want to have a fighting chance, you have to drive…and you better drive hard.

Like the vast majority of Trenchard-Smith’s extensive output, Drive Hard is massively entertaining: a silly, lightning-paced buddy film, Drive Hard never takes itself seriously, although it also manages to avoid (albeit just barely) slipping into full-blown parody territory. The Australian action auteur is a deft hand with this type of material, however, melding purely goofy comedy beats with genuinely thrilling action and racing sequences. While the film is the furthest thing from a “dark” crime saga, the stakes feel real enough to plant it squarely in the area code of films like Snatch (2000) and In Bruges (2008).

Key to the film’s success, of course, is that aforementioned chemistry between our odd couple, Peter and Simon.  The two leads play off each other with a playful sense of camaraderie that makes the film an easy, breezy experience from first to last. While Jane does an admirable job playing against type as the nerdy, clueless and slightly whiny Peter, Cusack handily steals the show as the riveting, obnoxious and thoroughly badass Simon Keller. Keller is the kind of antihero that practically demands his own franchise (I was constantly put in mind of Tim Dorsey’s amazing creation, Serge Storms) and it’s endlessly fun watching him work his machinations against the mob, corrupt cops, a biker gang and pretty much anyone who has the misfortune of crossing his path. Of late, Cusack seems to be gravitating towards these kind of “antihero” roles (see his similarly stellar turn as the villain in the thoroughly spectacular Grand Piano (2014) for another good example) and they really do fit him like a glove: he appears to be morphing into James Spader before our very eyes and I, for one, applaud this wholeheartedly.

While the supporting cast does fine work, the only one who really stands out is Zoe Ventoura’s ridiculously driven Agent Walker: there’s an intensity to her performance that ends up being much more magnetic than Christopher Morris’ mob boss, despite the constant fever pitch of his performance. Ventoura’s Agent Walker is also the only female character who gets much to do, with Francesca Bianchi’s Stacy being stuck in perpetual man-eater mode and Yesse Spence’s Tessa spending the majority of the film stuck somewhere in the background off-camera. For better or worse, this is the kind of action film that seems to strictly revolve around the male characters and their various relationships with one another. Call it a “bromance” if you like, but there’s certainly no shortage of testosterone to go around, here.

Despite being less than taken with Drive Hard’s look (the film is constantly blown-out and, to be honest, rather ugly), it’s hard to find fault with any of its key components. The driving scenes are thrilling and kinetic, while the various fights are well-staged and find a decent balance between chaos and order. The underlying sense of dark humor also works in the film’s favor, leading to suitably outrageous gags like the shop clerk accidentally blowing his own head off or Peter’s ludicrous brawl with an elderly lady that’s one slim pratfall away from a Happy Gilmore (1996) outtake. Holding everything together is that all-important central odd couple relationship between Jane and Cusack, the kind of partnership that actually makes sequels seem like good ideas.

Ultimately, Drive Hard is just what it should be: a goofy, fun, silly and effortless throwback to the days when everything blew up, any argument could be solved with a fistfight and a cutting quip could be just as deadly as a cutting blade. While Trenchard-Smith’s latest isn’t quite the modest masterpiece that Dead End Drive-In was (tonally, it’s just a little too all-over-the-map), there’s more than enough good stuff here to keep fans of ’80s and ’90s action films happy. Drive Hard tries hard and, at the end of the day, that’s a lot more than most.

 

1/25/15: The Man With Nothing Has Nothing to Lose

28 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by phillipkaragas in Uncategorized

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Animal Kingdom, anti-hero, Antony Partos, Australia, Australian films, brothers, car chases, cat-and-mouse chase, cinema, David Field, David Michôd, dramas, dysfunctional family, film reviews, films, foreign films, Gillian Jones, Guy Pearce, Jamie Fallon, Joel Edgerton, Keri Hilson, Mad Max, Movies, Natasha Braier, post-Apocalyptic, road trip, Robert Pattinson, Scoot McNairy, set in Australia, stolen car, Tawanda Manyimo, The Rover, The Way of the Gun, writer-director-producer

The-Rover-poster

Midway through David Michôd’s post-apocalyptic The Rover (2014), Rey (Robert Pattinson), a possibly mentally disabled young man, relates a rambling, seemingly pointless story to Eric (Guy Pearce), his captor: as Rey yammers on and on, we watch as frustration and boredom wage war across Eric’s sun-bleached, weathered face, his quick-set lips constantly suppressing some sort of cranky comeback. After Rey finishes his story, Eric regards him with something approaching contempt and snaps, “Why’d you tell me that?” The young man shrugs and nonchalantly states: “It was interesting and I remembered it…not everything has to be about something.”

In a way, that’s as good a micro-philosophy for Michôd’s film as any: indeed, if one boiled The Rover down to its essential parts, one would get a narrative that consists entirely of a man pursuing another group of men in order to retrieve his stolen car. This is overly reductive, of course, since there’s a bit more going on here than that (The Rover is definitely about “something”) but Australian writer-director Michôd, who first hit the public eye with his brutal Animal Kingdom (2010), is a master of economy and the whole thing buzzes along with the extreme focus of the best single-minded revenge flicks. Think of this as a moodier Mad Max (1979) minus the tricked-out cars, intense action setpieces and over-the-top characters and you’re definitely in the right vicinity.

We begin in Australia, ten years after some sort of ill-defined “collapse” has led to some pretty miserable conditions: everything seems sun-baked and cracked, food and water are now luxury items and every single person packs as much heat as they can possibly carry. Into this heat-mirage of failure steps Eric, as beaten-down and weathered as the landscape around him. While stopping at what appears to be a nearly empty “water saloon,” Eric kicks back for a moment of peace and quiet, during which absolute disaster strikes: his one and only possession, his beat-up car, is stolen by a trio of thieves on the lam, Caleb (Tawanda Manyimo), Archie (David Field) and Henry (Scoot McNairy). The trio have just crashed their truck and jack Eric’s before he can stop them.

Jumping into their abandoned vehicle, Eric gives chase, on the thieves’ tail like flies on cow-shit. After a suitably thrilling cat-and-mouse chase, Eric gets out to confront them, at which point he’s cold-cocked and left to wake up in the dirt. As he continues his pursuit, Eric runs into Rey, Henry’s gut-shot brother. Seems that Rey was injured in whatever heist the group was involved in and the others just left him there, rather than dragging his soon-to-be carcass around. Since Rey claims to know where the group is headed, Eric takes him along, with the stipulation that he’ll slit his throat if Henry and the others aren’t where Rey says they’ll be. From that point on, Eric and Rey travel in uneasy companionship, their relationship never as simple as “captor and captive” or “traveling companions,” but never quite as cold-blooded as Eric’s relentless pursuit of his car. As the duo get closer and closer to their destination, Rey will have to make some awfully difficult decisions about family, loyalty and doing the right thing, even as Eric continues to shave his own humanity down to the bone, turning himself into a killer as remorseless and barren as the landscape around him.

For the most part, The Rover is well-made, heartfelt and consistently interesting, albeit  a tad confusing, from time to time. The script, based on an idea that Michôd developed with actor Joel Edgerton, is lean and mean, wasting as little time as possible on anything that doesn’t propel the story (and the characters) forward. Due to this economy, we don’t get much in the way of character development whatsoever (the only backstory we receive regarding the protagonist is one extremely confusing tidbit related after he’s been captured by the military and the film’s twist ending), which tends to give the various people we meet a rather “half-formed” nature.

In particular, the scenes involving Grandma (Gillian Jones) and the strange, old man at the film’s conclusion are enigmatic precisely because they’re sort of dumped on us with no explanation as to their significance. The bit involving the old man is particularly frustrating, since it seems to involve a fundamental emotional beat with Eric that never makes much sense: he seems to have an emotional reaction to someone he’s never met, for no perceptible reason, when he’s been largely emotionless before that. There’s also zero development with the trio of thieves, although McNairy and Pattinson do get a nicely emotional bit during the climax: Caleb and Archie are never anything more than generic types, however, giving their ultimate fates next to no real importance. While many films are filled with faceless villains, this seems an odd tact to take for a film that only features a small handful of actors: a little more depth would have opened up the film immensely.

From a production-standpoint, The Rover looks and sounds great: Natasha Braier’s cinematography perfectly captures the sun-bleached desolation of the uncompromising landscape and the occasional nods to an “artier” style (the slo-mo car flying by the window as Eric sits at the bar, drinking water and listening to an Asian pop song on the radio, for example) prevent the film from ever looking too “utilitarian.” The moody score, by Antony Partos, is particularly good: there’s one supremely cool driving sequence where the score approximates the sparse keyboard squelches of No-Wave legends Suicide and I, for one, could not stop grinning. I also got a kick out of the way Keri Hilson’s “Pretty Girl Rock” (you know, the “Don’t hate me ’cause I’m beautiful,” song) scores a key setpiece: while the film is never less than dour, it’s pretty obvious that a subtle (very, very subtle) stream of dark humor runs through everything.

Performance-wise, I was quite taken by both Pearce and Pattinson: Pattinson, in particular, turns Rey into the kind of twitchy, fidgety weirdo that seems a million miles from his usual roles and I agreed with almost all of his acting choices, although his odd, slightly slurred accent is often more than a little hard to parse. Pearce, for his part, can pretty much do these kinds of roles in his sleep and his world-weary, defeated but determined take on Eric is sturdy and feels authentic. One of the most interesting aspects regarding the character of Eric is just how poorly he fits the role of “hero”: hell, even “anti-hero” seems a bit of a stretch, at times. For much of the film, Eric is violent, uncompromising and kills at the drop of a hat, often with as little provocation as possible. The final twist makes his character more sympathetic (barely) but the road leading there is paved with plenty of “questionable” activities, as it were. It’s to Pearce’s great credit that we’re always on Eric’s side, even if it’s not always easy (or possible) to agree with his actions.

Ultimately, I enjoyed, but didn’t love, The Rover. On the plus side, the film stakes out a claim as a reasonable neo-Western, ala The Way of the Gun (2000) and that will always receive my stamp of approval. Michôd’s film looks and sounds great, slotting in nicely with similar Australian fare, such as the aforementioned Mad Max, as well as “arty” post-apocalyptic films like Bellflower (2011). There are also plenty of good performances here, including an above-average turn by Robert Pattinson in a rather non-typical role. On the downside, the film feels a little long, especially for such a streamlined narrative, and I never felt emotionally engaged with it until the final revelation, which does end up packing a bit of a punch. That being said, fans of low-key post-apocalyptic tales should find plenty to approve of, even if the final result is decidedly less than a game-changer.

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