Director: Nicolas Winding Refn
As with any Refn film, you have to go into Drive knowing two things: (1) people don't talk very much, and (2) there will be blood...LOTS of blood. So no one dies for the first hour. Then everyone dies, horrifically, in the most stylistic and, dare I say, beautiful way imaginable. The entire film is really an exercise in style, but it's a dazzling and mythic testament to the appeal of fast cars, dangerous men, and high tension that can only be caused by slow-motion shotgunning. The entire movie, however, seems more real than any of the usual action-crime-chase flicks we've grown so tired of paying $10.50 to see. When I was watching it, it reminded me a lot of David Cronenberg's A History of Violence, in that it's fairly quiet at the start, but then ramps up until the very end, where it just cuts off. It is also similar in its stylistic approach to showcasing ultra-violence in a slower, neo-noir setting. It's cool, smart, and feels like some kind of masterpiece. Never before have I seen a movie that was both this beautiful, and this unnerving.
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