Disclaimer: This is not going to be a review. The following post assumes you have seen the movie, so don’t read it if you don’t want spoilers. I guarantee nothing except for (hopefully) some food for thought, and hope for a little discussion about the film between lovers of the form. As you were…
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw Baby Driver, but I had heard lots of things. I’d heard an interview with Edgar Wright and some guy who made a cameo in the film on NPR, and they talked about its authenticity and the music and whatnot. I’d heard the movie was cool, and fun, and unique. I also knew the movie was made by Sony, a studio that is, by all accounts, struggling at the box office this year, and really need something to turn their momentum around. But I wasn’t really prepared for what I saw.
What I saw was a reverent homage to the French New Wave, unashamed, loud, and proud. I don’t know if anyone else saw it, but for me, it was difficult not to see it, especially once I saw one of Baby’s cassettes marked ‘Enfant Terrible’. I mean, come on. That’s what they called themselves in the beginning, right? It’s right there, staring me in the face. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but smile at the reference. And then all I saw was references.
Baby’s somewhat giddy dance just to get coffee, along a street littered with people that were definitely not there by accident, graffiti that was bright and loud and said something, and its complete choreographed structure screamed out Umbrellas of Cherbourg so loudly, I would not have been surprised to see Catherine Deneuve saunter down the street casually. I kind of wish she would have.
The star, Ansel Elgort, is an actor I only have a passing familiarity with, but I couldn’t help but think he looks like Antoine from The 400 Blows and Michel from Breathless rolled into one angsty, romantic, barreling towards doom teenager. He actually looks like them. Acts like them. He’s cool and we love him, even though he’s a rogue on the wrong side of law. See for yourself:
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I saw Baby Driver, but I had heard lots of things. I’d heard an interview with Edgar Wright and some guy who made a cameo in the film on NPR, and they talked about its authenticity and the music and whatnot. I’d heard the movie was cool, and fun, and unique. I also knew the movie was made by Sony, a studio that is, by all accounts, struggling at the box office this year, and really need something to turn their momentum around. But I wasn’t really prepared for what I saw.
What I saw was a reverent homage to the French New Wave, unashamed, loud, and proud. I don’t know if anyone else saw it, but for me, it was difficult not to see it, especially once I saw one of Baby’s cassettes marked ‘Enfant Terrible’. I mean, come on. That’s what they called themselves in the beginning, right? It’s right there, staring me in the face. When I saw it, I couldn’t help but smile at the reference. And then all I saw was references.
Baby’s somewhat giddy dance just to get coffee, along a street littered with people that were definitely not there by accident, graffiti that was bright and loud and said something, and its complete choreographed structure screamed out Umbrellas of Cherbourg so loudly, I would not have been surprised to see Catherine Deneuve saunter down the street casually. I kind of wish she would have.
The star, Ansel Elgort, is an actor I only have a passing familiarity with, but I couldn’t help but think he looks like Antoine from The 400 Blows and Michel from Breathless rolled into one angsty, romantic, barreling towards doom teenager. He actually looks like them. Acts like them. He’s cool and we love him, even though he’s a rogue on the wrong side of law. See for yourself:
Lastly, the entire feel of the film has that feel of a French New Wave film. I don’t know if I can quite articulate it, but it’s a film that feels like it’s trying to be American, but it’s not American. Remember, this is the group of filmmakers that loved American Film Noir and emulated it with such wondrous films as Shoot the Piano Player, Out of the Past, and Touche Pas Au Grisbi (loosely translated to “Don’t Touch My Stash”). The entire movie is slick and quick, and feels like a film noir with extra life breathed into it, with the glee of filmmaking infused in every carefully composed but spontaneous-looking shot. I have to hand it to Mr. Wright, I never saw this coming. He really knows his shit.
Anyone else notice this, or am I alone in my madness?
Anyone else notice this, or am I alone in my madness?
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