by Chris Feil
Edgar Wright is back in action movie mode for Baby Driver, a crime caper just slightly enough on the offbeat side enough to stand out among the summer franchise entries. Ansel Elgort stars as Baby (no, seriously), a iPod-attached getaway driver wrapping up an undefined debt to his somewhat paternal boss Doc (Kevin Spacey). There is Wright-ian wit to spare in the set pieces and characterizations as Baby wraps up his final mission and falls for waitress Debora (Lily James), but Driver is also his messiest. With a solid supporting ensemble that features a delightfully unhinged Jamie Foxx and Spacey on his more understated side of hammy, the film is nevertheless a great launching pad for Ansel Elgort as a multitalented leading man.
While the film is as lively as anything else Edgar Wright has done, it is also his most anonymous. With all the scattered pacing and barrage of images thrown at the audience, there is not much point of view to the action or confidence in its ability to thrill us without breaking our necks. Here Wright trades in his emphasis on connection and relationships for a loud pastiche, missing the heart that has made his previous rounds of cinematic anarchy so memorable. Driver is less precise and more surface, without much of a human entry point to make this fit in with his stronger work. For a film that desperately throws everything on that screen, it leaves you wanting quite a bit more.
The film at least comes with good intentions, so its not the kind of cynical chore you might expect. The action is fully realized with seemingly few CGI bells and whistles, so its rooted in some semblance of reality to balance out Wright’s verbal and physical outlandishness. Had it been more controlled in its freneticism, you might get to actually feel more of its unfussy rush and wit.
Much will be made of the film’s literally non-stop soundtrack. But even the music cues feel labored, an attempt to stamp the film with an air of cool that feels mannered no matter how much it clearly comes from a place of love. The sheer endlessness of the songs in the film kills its own intended effect - rather than flashes of inspiration, it eventually fades into this loud and busy tapestry.
Driver’s biggest delight is Baby himself - Ansel Elgort maximizes his matinee idol cache here in a role that allows him to charm the house down with sweetness, stoicism, and the odd dance routine or two. Wright’s protagonists are often his least interesting characters, but Elgort’s is compelling in both his physicality and nuanced tension. We will see how far out he might be from superstardom, but a significant musical role can’t be far off with moves like these.
The real chutzpah can be found in some early tracking shots where Wright and Elgort get to really shine in this heightened reality, with slinky choreography and popping visual charisma. Here Wright effectively gets at both who Baby is and what his film aspires to be, in both establishing this original enigmatic hero and its soulful musical identity. This breezy confidence holds all of the films blended genres in a more rewarding way than all of the bluster surrounding it.
Grade: C