LOST IN AMERICA (1985)

LOST IN AMERICA is a classic American comedy from the mid-80s, satirising our addiction to commercial success. It's directed by, written by and stars Albert Brooks (BROADCAST NEWS) as a successful and smug but neurotic advertising exec and a big LA firm. He's just sold his house to trade up to an even larger one and is about to order a stupidly expensive car.  But when the promotion he's been expecting is denied him he loses his temper and storms out of his job, persuading his wife Linda (Julie Hagerty - AIRPLANE!) to join him by selling everything they own, buying a motorhome, and travelling through America to "find themselves".  The problem is that they're pretty feckless, obviously have to lose their money to force them to face reality, and see their yuppie entitlement testing in the "real world".

The movie holds up really well, thanks to the fact that we still live in a time where people talk about finding themselves and living authentic lives, but are addicted to Stuff and Status.  The lack of self-awareness drives the comedy  - every time the husband meets someone and says he's trying to live like EASY RIDER it's so palpably absurd it cracks you up. But what's amazing is how far the people he says this too believe him or at least admire him for trying.  There's also the daily insults and grappling to deal with the difference between commercial promise and reality that get to us all, even today - like when you lay out $44k for a car, all in, but the leather seats are really vinyl, or when you bribe the hotel reservations clerk for the bridal suite, and it turns out to be the "junior" version and really rather ordinary.  Brooks just gets the indignities of modern life.  The result is a film that is genuinely smart, laugh-out-loud funny, and yet darkly honest about the compromises we are all forced to make.  It's basically saying we all aim high but fundamentally want a nice easy life.  I'm comfortable with that. 

LOST IN AMERICA has a running time of 91 minutes and is rated R. 

A MOST VIOLENT YEAR

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A MOST VIOLENT YEAR is a bad film that could've been iconic - a movie so steeped in cinema heritage that it slides into pastiche - a movie that reaches for greatness but trips over its own shoelaces in a final act that had the audience laughing at it rather than being awed by it. 

All of which is a great shame because the writer-director of the film, J C Chandor, is a great director.  His film MARGIN CALL remains the most powerful and understated examination of how Wall Street really works that I've ever seen.  ALL IS LOST pitted Robert Redford against the elements and in doing so created something like a profound exploration of character and worth.  These films had a style and a set of concerns that were new and unique to J C Chandor.  They felt authentic and urgent.  By contrast, A MOST VIOLENT YEAR seems like a slow and lingering meditation on an earlier time, both in New York history and in cinema history.

DRIVE - A Real Hero

I know a lot of guys who mess around with married women, but you're the only one I know who robs a place to pay back the husband. 

From the Hot Pink titles; to the electro-kitsch soundtrack; to Ryan Gosling's silver satin jacket; to the neon lights of Los Angeles, DRIVE is a movie that oozes cool.  It's hero, simply titled "Driver" is so cool, he barely needs to speak, has no discernible back-story, merely exists. As both a stunt- and get-away-driver, he barely breaks a sweat, and even when for a sweet girl (Carey Mulligan) and her son, he barely cracks a smile.  The courtship is so low-key, chaste, Driver's attitude so stoic, at times I even doubted he had been moved at all. And then, when his girl needs a hero, that's exactly what he becomes.  The change comes by stealth, jarring, shocking, and the movie, like its hero (now capitalised) shifts from quirky romance into hard-core ultra-violence.  Driver becomes the man his angelic, virginal girlfriend needs - maybe the man he always wanted to be, and just needed the excuse to become - the violence evidently so close to the surface.  Within what feels like seconds, we have descended into overwhelming violence, no-way-out kind of snowballing craziness.  Driver seems to welcome it.  It seems to be his fate.

DRIVE is another example of director Nicolas Windig Refn's obsession with, and objectification of, men who define themselves through violence.  Again and again - whether Tom Hardy in BRONSON or Mads Mikkelsen in VALHALLA RISING, Refn glories in the image of "hard" men covered in blood and gore.  The objectification is sometimes pretty disturbing, it feels voyeuristic, slippery, fascistic - we are being made complicit in, and enjoying to the point of nervous laughter, heinous violence. This sense of deeply, deeply black humour is heightened by some genius casting in the supporting roles - Albert Brooks playing against type as a sleazy B-movie producer cum mobster - Ron Perlman as a West Coast mafiosi - and Bryan Cranston as the semi-father figure who pimps Driver out for heist jobs.  (Sadly, Mad Men's Christina Hendricks' is underused in a cameo.) The humour also comes from Hossein Amini's tightly written adaptation of James Sallis' novel. But ultimately, given the glossy, seedy, look and feel of the movie, the ultimate praise has to go to Refn, for creating both his most mainstream movie to date, but betraying none of that particular brand of "violence and romantic sexiness" - and Gosling, who with but a flicker of eyes can betray a complexity of emotion beyond most of his generation of actors.  

DRIVE played Cannes, where Nicolas Windig Refn won Best Director, and Toronto 2011. It opened on September 16th in the US, Croatia, Denmark, Hungary, Bulgaria, Canada and Poland. It opens today in Greece, Ireland, and the UK. It opens on September 30th in Malaysia and Italy. It opens on October 5th in France; on October 7th in Finland, on October 13th in Hong Kong, on October 21st in Estonia and Norway and on October 27th in Australia. It opens on November 3rd in Russia and Singapore, on November 18th in Sweden, on December 8th in Portugal and on January 26th 2012 in Germany.