Flying Cars
Cars are fragile. This seems to be Renny Harlin's main
idea in Driven, repeated in money shot after money
shot of open-wheeled race cars flying through the air
and smashing to pieces as if they were made of balsa
wood. The people who drive the cars are, in some ways,
just as fragile, as racing becomes a way for these
drivers to displace their emotional lives into
something they actually know how to do. While the film
does show the cars crashing exceedingly well, the
people part only functions to keep the film from
coming off like a late night infomercial for an
exploitative "Greatest Car Crashes" videotape -- not
available in stores!
Driven's first few minutes set up the situation:
Jimmy Blye (Kip Pardue) is the hot new kid on the
Formula-One racing circuit who quickly outstrips
veteran Beau Brandenburg (Til Schweiger). But what
goes up must come down and, before the opening credits
are through, Jimmy has come down -- hard. The reasons
why are fairly predictable: fame, adoring fans, and
the pain of becoming a product. Everyone around Jimmy
is all for it: as his brother Demille (Robert Sean
Leonard) says, "In five years, when you're a brand
name, you'll thank me." But Jimmy is falling apart and
the film's frantic editing captures it perfectly: we
see anonymous reporters and half-dressed groupies
grabbing at him, then take his point-of-view as
literal flashes fill the frame, blinding us for a
moment, before cutting quickly to Jimmy's flinching
face. This is the chaos of fame.
Enter Joe Tanto (Sylvester Stallone), a former race
car driver who "has been at the top of the mountain
and stumbled all the way down." Stallone is playing a
role remarkably similar to the one he played in Rocky V, the grizzled veteran who bestows his wisdom on the
young kid (why oh why, Sly, if you're going to rip off
material from your own Rocky franchise, would you
choose that lame fifth installment?). We know he's a
kick-ass race car driver: he can pick quarters off the
racetrack with his tires while zipping along at 200
mph. But his wisdom is less clear: Brandenburg's
memory of their time together in Detroit, 1997 is not
so good ("You almost killed me, Joe!"), and Tanto's
vindictive ex-wife Cathy (Gina Gershon) -- now married
to racer Memo Moreno (Cristian de la Fuente) -- pops
up at inconvenient moments, such as when Tanto's
putting the moves on sports reporter Lucretia Clan
(Stacy Edwards). What we come away with is the feeling
that Tanto was a great talent who couldn't cope with
the fame -- hardly the ideal mentor for Jimmy Blye,
who is already having difficulties with his new
girlfriend, Sophia (Estella Warren), Brandenburg's
occasionally estranged wife. This relationship leads
to one of Driven's more reprehensible elements: its
treatment of women.
Given the hyper-masculinity of racing sports, it's no
surprise that the women of Driven are sexualized and
objectified in the ugliest of ways, particularly in
the establishing shots of each race: a pretty woman
sucks on a very phallic churro, and numerous shots of
buxom babes in booty shorts are intercut with shots of
gleaming race cars. The obvious implication is that
cars and women are things that men control, and the
film further supports this in its characterization of
the women who find themselves in relationships with
these "driven" men. Brandenburg and Jimmy regularly
exchange Sophia. Cathy is a bitch because of the way
she treats Tanto, despite the fact Tanto left her, not
the other way around. It seems that only Lucretia is
let off from the rampant sexism, but then again, she's
constructed as "one of the guys": she goes by the
nickname "Luke" and she's someone in whom Tanto can
confide, the way he confides in the other racers. Then
again, her primary function is to be his
one-dimensional love interest.
On the other hand, the men in the film bond
incessantly. They constantly refer to "the brotherhood
of racers." It's this "brotherhood" that grounds
Tanto's relationship with Jimmy. After the two race
through the streets of Chicago in hijacked prototype
race cars, Tanto tells Jimmy, "You've got to get back
to doing what you love because you love it." Because
of the brotherhood, racers are surprisingly
uncompetitive off the race course (in whose interest
Memo goes so far as to offer to divorce Tanto's
ex-wife if it'll make him happier) and even on it
(they are consistently willing to sacrifice their own
success for one of their "brothers").
Driven shows us that racing isn't everything to
these men: the establishing shots of the final race
include race car drivers kissing pictures of their
wives and children, expressing the loneliness of any
job that keeps you out on the road for long periods of
time. Unfortunately -- in the hands of screenwriter
Stallone and director Harlin -- scenes of race car
drivers expressing their "emotions 'n stuff" come off
as flat as much of the film's dialogue. Speaking of
racing, Tanto says, in all seriousness, "It's like
having a good disease. It's contagious!" While
cringe-worthy moments like this suggest wells of
emotion, they never develop enough to be dramatically
effective. They are really just quiet moments for the
audience to catch their breath between the film's
masterfully executed set pieces: the races, during
which Harlin takes obvious delight in crashing cars.
Watching gravity manhandle these flimsy cars as they
collide and use each other as ramps is nine-tenths of
Driven's fun. In one scene, a car is launched into
the air and, as it flies in tranquil slow motion, the
other cars zoom past so quickly that the only evidence
of them is the warped trail of air they leave behind
and the sonic boom of their engines roaring past. The
flying car finally drops low enough to hit another
car, launching it across the track like a baseball off
a bat. Of course, this is all highly improbable, but
it fits with the theme of improbability that runs
through Renny Harlin's oeuvre. If you could suspend
your disbelief long enough to buy into The Long Kiss Good Night's indestructible assassin or Deep Blue Sea's genetically enhanced "smart" sharks, then you
should have no trouble appreciating the sight of race
cars flying through the air like space shuttles
through space.
Unfortunately, Driven is just too uneven. Given the
exciting car crashes, it should have been entertaining
enough to hold anyone's attention for a good two
hours, but its banal story weighs it down, along with
its tepid social commentary. There's a tentative
anti-product endorsements theme in Jimmy's attempts to
navigate between his money-minded brother Demille and
his racing-minded "brother" Tanto, but this idea never
develops, probably because the film itself succumbs to
the very vice it purports to criticize: Nextel,
Motorola and Target logos are everywhere. The most
insistent point made by Driven is the most obvious:
"Car crashes are cool."