Driver, l'imprendibile

The Driver (1978)

Walter Hill's underrated film may have been forgotten completely had it not been for the success of the "Driver" series of Playstation games on which this film is a massive influence. Ryan O'Neal plays the Driver, a ronin-like character, willing to act as an unbeatable getaway driver for anyone as long as the price is right because, well...it's what he does. Bruce Dern is the Cop set on finally catching the elusive criminal, even if it means aiding and abetting criminal activity himself.

This most reminded me of Michael Mann's crime films from the 80s onwards such as "Thief" and "Heat" - Hill's film shares the same kind of existentialist themes about identity - men defined and ruled by their actions, to the extent that they have no room in their lives for anything else. It also shares Mann's style - creating an urban environment that's both chic, yet realistically gritty.

Ryan O'Neal may not have quite the cult status of Steve McQueen but his portrayal of the Driver as an empty, emotionless human being is strengthened through the characters sheer self-confidence and survival instinct. Bruce Dern gives the Cop a nice contrast to his lifeless target, bringing a kind of goofy, obsessive tenacity, as he sets up a bank job with some petty criminals in his attempt to be the first cop to catch the Driver. Isabelle Adjani is strikingly vacant, although her role in the proceedings is far from well defined.

It has to be said that the car chases are brilliant - from the opening getaway police chase to the Driver's calculated destruction of a very shiny Mercedes in an underground parking lot and the final cat and mouse game in a labyrinthine warehouse. The dramatic scenes do inevitably feel a bit sluggish sometimes and the constant hard-boiled dialogue does start to grate. Despite a seemingly sparse, clear-cut plot there are moments towards the climax which are confusing and frustrating.

The existential aspect of the plot is emphasised with a complete absence of character names, so maybe it is fitting that the film, and it's central character, only really comes alive during the car chase scenes - though this may be very relevant to the film's philosophy it does limit the sheer entertainment value as those looking for constant thrills, which the film does deliver, may find the wait between them in such a barren landscape a little tedious while armchair philosophers may find the existential "coolness" forced.

Those were The Driver's words after he take a crew of bank robbers for a test drive in their dodgy looking orange Mercedes and proceeds to trash it completely, knocking off both bumpers, tearing off a door, bumping both sides and flattening the roof. A classic scene and this is a good, late 70s action thriller from Walter Hill. It's film noir at it's best and it's pretty cool that every character doesn't have an actual name, we've got The Driver, The Detective, The Player and so on. Ryan O'Neal is cool without actually having to say very much and Bruce Dern is just Bruce Dern, wild eyed and crazy as the Detective determined to catch the Driver by using some strange policing. Isabelle Adjani is very quiet and a sexy foil for things to revolve around. The car chases and mash-ups are as good as some of the stuff used in Bullit, French Connection, The Seven-Ups and other top rate chase scenes.

Dern is a highlight as he is bonkers as ever and Walter Hill does a great job in direction and keeping things nice and compact.

Check it out!

The Driver is a stylish, detached and antisocial tribute to driving for the sake of driving and crime for the sake of crime, made at a time when those things still had a palpable meaning for most big-city Americans. The writer/director is Walter Hill, penner of the not too dissimilar cult film The Getaway a few years earlier. And although he made more successful films later on (notably 48 Hrs.), The Driver is arguably among his most gutsy and hard-hitting. It's worth a watch for the fervour it represents and instils, if nothing else. Ryan O'Neal, Bruce Dern and Isabelle Adjani are the attractive trio of lead actors.

There is no baloney in this surprisingly good movie (it's not well-known). It also sports a real oddity: no one's name is mentioned in the entire film! Try to think of any other film you've ever seen where this is the case.

Why 'The Driver" is not better known is a mystery since the director (Walter Hill) and main actors (Ryan O'Neal and Bruce Dern) are well-known entities.

Maybe because Ryan, who people think of more as the likable male in the immensely popular "Love Story," "Paper Moon" and "Barry Lyndon" plays against type, playing an ultra-serious criminal. Make no mistake: he does it well. He is a man of few words in this movie and he handles that in a fascinating manner. Dern is always interesting. Isabelle Adjani, more famous as a French actress, is nice to ogle and she, too, doesn't say much in this film.

The rest of the characters in this "neo noir" are a bunch of nasties, giving that edgy feel.

If you like film noir and particularly if you like car-chase scenes, well, this movie is must-have, because there are several intense chase scenes in here and they are long. They're also well-photographed, fun to watch and certainly keep your attention.

Less is more: a superb existential thriller to rival Point Blank and car chases to equal The French Connection, along with a couple of outstanding performances from the leads.

Here, the underworld's most talented getaway driver (O'Neal) is obsessively pursued by a corrupt, power-mad cop (Dern), who'll stop at nothing to catch him - even if it means blackmailing a seedy gang of bank robbers to help lure him into a trap. Aiding The Driver (these are characters who don't need names) is the beautiful and enigmatic Player (Adjani), who helps double-cross The Detective.

Walter Hill once mused that all his movies, like those of fellow director John Carpenter, were really westerns in disguise; hence the cowboy hats, Winchester rifles and, er, cowboys in the case of The Long Riders - which crop up repeatedly in his pictures. (Although where that leaves Brewster's Millions is anybody's guess.) The Driver, originally devised as a vehicle for Steve McQueen, is no exception: if O'Neal's country music-loving driver is referred to as 'The Cowboy', Dern, who once received death threats for killing John Wayne on screen, plays his twitching, preening nemesis like every crooked sheriff from Rio Lobo to Unforgiven.

Everybody is A Man (or Woman) With No Name - archetypes defined by their roles ('The Player', 'The Connection'), existing purely to drive the plot forward. O'Neal plays the eponymous anti-hero as half-man, half-automobile, speaking only when absolutely necessary - "Get in", "Go home" - expending just the right amount of energy to get the job done, as evinced by three of the most incredible car chases in cinema. (Hill's previous work as assistant director on Bullitt obviously stood him in good stead here).

As with Jim Jarmusch's Ghost Dog: The Way of the Samurai, or Jean-Pierre Melville's Le Samourai, which The Driver most resembles, nothing is wasted. "How do we know you're that good?" asks a doubtful crime baron, on procuring The Driver's services. O'Neal's unspoken reply providing rare light relief, as with casual insouciance and surgical precision, he reduces the dismayed owner's Mercedes to jigsaw pieces against an underground car park's concrete pillars to display his credentials.

Like a manic mechanic, Hill similarly strips the story - part-action thriller, part-existential noir - back to its essence, siphoning off dialogue, back story, character development and love interest, until only the Zen flesh and bones remain.