Today out of sheer boredom I watched a movie I’d had on my list for a while, but never got around to, Baby Driver. Its easy to see why it received acclaim; its music and sound effect composition alone is a pretty stellar effort in my very uninformed opinion. Mostly, I found that something combining my three top loves of cinema, cars and music is a pretty unbeatable combination. The stunt driving before the opening title had me grinning like a lunatic. There is just something about the fluid movement of a grunting car with screeching tyres that makes me very happy. I was looking forward to adding some new tracks to my spotify throughout the movie, but it was not to be. The music choice was was the kind that hipsters claim to enjoy listening to on their gramophone shaped digital music players.
There was an opportunity to chuck in some great contemporary music. Anything with a bit of a beat and a bit of grunt would have had me spellbound. Kaleo, Danzig, Hilltop Hoods, GnR, Myles Kennedy, Metallica, Muse, Tempter Trap, just to name a few (and having a classical music background, I am even open to some Mortzart or Beethoven). For a movie that centres a lot around music (among other things), the selection was about as deep and unpredictable as learning to sing your ABCs in the first year of school. Obviously with music, as with cinema, you cant please everyone, and the makers of this movie clearly had one demographic in mind and I wasnt in it, due to my lack of aforementioned grammaphone shaped iphone speaker. Although in fairness, I have been known to dress ironically (not always on purpose), not wash my hair (not always on purpose) and buy ridiculous crap that I just didnt need (usually on purpose). Its my lack of pretence that precludes me from the group, I think, although maybe using terms pretence IS pretentious…I can only guess.
An attempt to lift the sophistication level with some random, loose choreography came off as more delusional than visionary, although maybe that was the intention? To avoid any chance of overdoing the ‘sophistication’ Baby has a southern drawl. Of course we, the audience, must now consider him some kind of musical, driving idiot-savant! But maybe that all added to the slightly fantastical feel of the movie which included exaggerated lilts, expressions and styling. Im ok with that, have definitely enjoyed my fill of comic book franchise movies to appreciate strongly stylised characters.
Speaking of stylised characters, the uncomfortable appearance of Kevin Spacey was difficult to overlook and watching him calling a (very) young man Baby hit every sour note that exists on an out of tune piano strung with dried citrus pulp. The martyrdom of his character was the only satisfying part of his role and in my opinion came about 55 minutes too late in the movie.
The overused insertion of innocent, disadvantaged doormat love interest has surely had its day? What more does that role have to offer the world? At this point a doe-eyed barely pubescent young woman has done all the caring, waiting and pining that can be done. At which point do we arrive at a new type of love interest? One that isnt simply a token character, subplot, or submissive drip waiting to be ‘saved’ from her own life. I want a typically developed woman who dresses for comfort and who can out stunt drive the stunt driver, all the while giving the finger to the supposed ‘good guy’ and leaving him in the dust.
I notice that even in our somewhat progressive cinematic landscape, when a woman is a lead character and sometimes even a lead action character, you never seem to see submissive, meek male love interests. If it ever is done, I am sure it would be to comedic effect, as it is impossible for a strong woman character to appeal to the masses if that same character had any serious power over a partner, such as we often see with male leads. But I digress, Its just a bit of a stick in my craw that the world is still celebrating tokenism above true equality.
One thing that spoke to me in this movie though, beyond the driving – and I can tell you the idea of being able to drive like that is the stuff of my dreams – was the lead’s desperate efforts to on to the few connections he had with his deceased mother. Eating every day at the same place she worked, holding the recorded sound of her voice as his most prized possession. In a movie about all of the things that light a spark in me, my breath caught for a nanosecond when the character heard his mum’s voice. Its been five years since my mother died (suddenly and traumatically) and eleven since my husband was killed (even more suddenly and traumatically) and the one thing that can still bring a tear to my eye is feeling like the world is still full of their sounds and I have just lost them in static. It always feels like the moment just after someone speaks and a pregnant pause resounds with the dying soundwaves of their voices. To me, that is grief. That split second between sound and no sound.
What is luck, anyway? 