Drive My Car
★ ★★ ½
I'm a bit befuddled by how this movie received a Best Picture nomination. Not because it's a bad movie, but because a three-hour international drama about a man processing grief somehow pushed out other contenders. Though I didn't respond to it as some other critics have, Drive My Car tests the boundary of patience. It demands your attention and wants you to process all the dialogue, just as the characters in the film absorb the lines from a Chekhov play.
For a film that is weighty with subtext, I needed more of a visual flair. You really have to pay attention to what is being said, but I was never struck by the look or style of the film. So at times, I felt like I really was just reading this film. That said, the story has a lot to say about death and loss, and the way that the characters process such things takes time. It's easy to ponder why things are taking so long, but the more I thought about it, the script makes sense. Grief is something that never goes away. Like a newborn, it grows into its own personality based on the person it is inhabiting. Once that hits you as a viewer, Drive My Car, takes on a much admirable and deeper meaning. I'll be shocked though if the majority of Americans can stick with its complex themes.
