by A lot of films are panned when they’re released and forgotten soon after. But there’s also films that are panned by contemporary critics only to be rediscovered later. Either by the same generation or, more often, by a new generation of cineastes that have a very different approach to them. THE DRIVER is one of those films. Written and directed by Walter Hill, it wasn’t appreciated when it came out in 1978. Things changed until the 90s. Since then, THE DRIVER has turned out to be an influential film, especially for how it inspired others. The reason for this? Because it’s a great film that’s been panned for no reason.
Films made during the 70s have a very different atmosphere from films made before or after. An atmosphere that can’t be effectively duplicated anymore. A visual language that clearly identifies them, which is due to many reasons. The hippie age had come to an end, maybe or rather not thanks to Charles Manson. A new generation was keen on living, if differently from their parents and grandparents. The Cold War with the Soviet Union had come to a stall, taking its toll on the economy. Hell, even car makers weren’t making money anymore. In other words, the sacred cows of America were dead and rotting. The 70s were creative, but also a bit filthy, amoral, yet first and foremost, pessimistic. THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971) closes with the bad guy getting away. TAXI DRIVER (1976) shows New York City at the verge of purgatory, much closer to Dante’s Inferno than 50s progress, wealth and suburban living. When Walter Hill wrote and directed The Driver, he knew he was taking chances despite all the pessimistic films preceding his work. Why? The answer is simple. Underneath its action film/thriller/blockbuster surface, THE DRIVER is an eulogy to the old America. And it also describes the death and rebirth of a cultural icon.
The cultural icon we’re talking about is The Cowboy, replaced with a questionable heir to his throne: The Driver. The Driver, played by Ryan O’Neal, has no name. He doesn’t need a name. He doesn’t need much, to be honest. The Driver is characterized by his actions. But not only him. The Sheriff has evolved into The Detective, ostensibly another stock character that is driven by his job and duties but has little personality. After the western craze of the 50s and 60s, these cultural characters, or treasures rather, were another victim of the Vietnam War. The war that couldn’t be lost but also couldn’t be won either, was the last stab to the heart of America’s Manifest Destiny. It was evidence that the West all Americans were destined to conquer lay somewhere between Saint Louis and the Sierra Nevada but nowhere else. The West had been conquered, so The Cowboy wasn’t needed anymore. He had two options: evolve or die. Lucky for us, The Cowboy decided to be something else instead of becoming a faint memory of a people long gone.
You know what I’m gonna do? I’m going to catch me the cowboy that’s never been caught. Cowboy desperado.
The Detective
In TAXI DRIVER, we saw what alternative evolution the Cowboy could see. A madman with a Mohawk, unaware of where he came from or where he was going. But Hill imagined him very differently. The Driver has a car instead of a horse. But they’re stolen cars, scrapped the second they’re of no use anymore. The Driver only deploys them, like The Cowboy riding his horse to death. And leave it to rot in the desert. The difference is, the scrapped cars are no feast for the vultures. They’re a feast for The Detective and his helpers, that seem of no particular relevance in his world. Bruce Dern is The Detective, a driven man with many talents and little qualities, determined to do anything to stop The Driver. This unhealthy fixation doesn’t add up at first glance. After all, The Driver is only driving the getaway car, he’s not threatening civilians with guns or stealing money. Which is why The Detective is after him. Because The Driver is a challenge. Is it any wonder The Detective is arresting robbers without breaking a sweat but unable to pin down The Driver, whom he himself nicknames The Cowboy? We’re instantly reminded of Sylvester Stallone as John Rambo in FIRST BLOOD (1982). But this is different. The Driver doesn’t kill, even though he could. He prefers intimidation over actual violence. So The Detective, or in other words, jurisdiction, stability, discipline and what not, is after The Cowboy simply because he’s different, thus an outcast. To build the future, the past has to go. Consequently, a cultural icon has to go.
The plot of THE DRIVER couldn’t be much simpler. Two thugs are robbing a gambling den, The Driver is hired to get them out of there. A mysterious woman observes him before he engages in a spectacular car chase with the police. She’s The Gambler (Isabelle Adjani), a young woman much more difficult to figure out. When interrogated by The Detective, she lies about The Driver’s involvement, so they have to let him go. The cat and mouse play that unfolds, with a trap set by The Detective involving three criminals he’s blackmailing, is only a rather thin framework to support the driving scenes. And those are exceptional, even after four decades. THE DRIVER raised the bar for driving in film. Even films that were heavily inspired by it, especially DRIVE (2011) by Nicolas Winding Refn, can’t touch it. Driving is everything to The Driver, who is nothing in this world, a man that lives in hotel rooms for a night or two, with virtually no belongings. The Player starkly contrasts this. She’s a 22-year-old mystery living in a noble apartment way out of her league. They feel drawn towards each other, maybe The Player more effectively towards The Driver than the other way round. Because he has that inexplicable attraction tight-lipped cowboys always had.
So what does the man driving the getaway car do? What’s he looking for? Clearly not a road to the West, since any notion of constant movement as remedy against redundancy found in Jack Kerouac’s key novel of the Beat Generation, ON THE ROAD (1957), has been terminated. It is much closer to Don DeLillo’s debut novel AMERICANA (1971), in which you can only realize that the West is dead and an imitation. Either of itself or an “Eastern American” notion of what it’s supposed to be. The Driver has no place to run, nothing to conquer, so he’s running in circles. He’s serving the same purpose without ever achieving anything of undeniable importance.
All this is presented with great attention to visuals that draw us in. Fast-paced and of average length, THE DRIVER is worth watching for the action and car chases alone. Ryan 0’Neal’s and Bruce Dern’s acting, with all the undercurrents they produce, is a bonus. Walter Hill’s THE DRIVER surpasses THE FRENCH CONNECTION in many ways. But revolutionary as it was, it isn’t any wonder it took years to finally be acknowledged. Attentive viewers will notice just how many films have been inspired by THE DRIVER and the reinvention of The Cowboy. From Tarantino over Frankenheimer’s RONIN ( 1998) to Edgar Wright’s BABY DRIVER (2017). The film is a clear, subtle statement that can still be interpreted in many ways, thanks to its cultural connotations. Even after four decades, get on the backseat and let The Driver take you for a ride. It’s worth it.
