Drive my car is entrancingly meditative exploration of the human condition. It is many things at once, but above all it is loyal to the artifice of film. It is chock-full of beautiful, atmospheric, slow, and deliberate shots that mirror the tone of the narrative. Director Ryusuke Hamaguchi is a master at cultivating a tremendous aura with excellent cinematography. He weaves a beautiful tapestry and invites the viewer to commune with the characters and the poetry they speak. He lets the text illuminate the inner truths it wishes to explore. Yet at no point does it feel preachy or over encumbered. It engenders empathy by including the viewer in characters most intimate moments and does not shy away from displaying the pain and hurt that comes along with the complexity of love and loss.
The beginning is almost feels akin to a lucid dream, characters monologue to each other with a dryness and distance. The main character Yusuke Kafuku, played expertly by Hidetoshi Nishijima, is morose and aloof. Pain has been a defining characteristic of his life since tragedy struck early in his marriage. He is childless, but he and his wife create together in the form of poetry and plays. His name sounds like Kafka, which is fitting to say the least. Kafuku is a classical Russian literature archetype, like a Dostoevsky character his pain does not allow him to fully integrate into his surroundings and it is the source of the friction underlying the plot. He is a relatively famous actor who mostly participates in avant-garde plays, characterized by the blending of many languages into universal humanistic stories, but he does not appear to take any joy from his success. He is not angry nor self-flagellating, he just chooses not to engage with difficult truths, and it stifles his ability to thrive.
The titular car that he must allow others to drive is an older red Saab that he meticulously maintains. He drives it while listening to a tape of his wife reciting script lines. This helps him both learn the play intimately, but it also is a way to connect with his wife rather than communicating direct. His life is not a happy one, but one of stalwart perseverance and artistic expression. Throughout the course of the plot, he meets a young driver named Misaki Watari played by Toko Miura, who is forced upon him by a job opportunity he accepts. Driving was a controlled experience for him, something he did not like to surrender to someone else. But as the film progresses the ritualistic driving of the car becomes an integral part of his characters progression, and the progression of Misaki as well. The symbolism of lettering someone else drive his car is deep and profound.
While the film is a compelling character study of Kafuku, it is not without flaws. Some of the supporting performances did not compel me. The film is also extraordinarily long. I enjoyed most of the runtime, but I cannot recommend this to the average movie goer, it will bore them. If I am honest certain scenes, particularly the table read scenes, bored me as well. But ultimately there is a character to this film that I find incredibly endearing.
Critically, the filmography is enrapturing, and even when the plot creeps along, the meticulous framing of each shot, the cigarette drags, the highways, the coastlines, it's just a delight to look at. Layered in with these beautiful shots is a tone of quiet and meditative contemplation that is a pleasure to observe. Drive my Car is excellent and idiosyncratic, and certainly worth a view for anyone who can appreciate its nuances and will not be fatigued by its leisurely pace.
The beginning is almost feels akin to a lucid dream, characters monologue to each other with a dryness and distance. The main character Yusuke Kafuku, played expertly by Hidetoshi Nishijima, is morose and aloof. Pain has been a defining characteristic of his life since tragedy struck early in his marriage. He is childless, but he and his wife create together in the form of poetry and plays. His name sounds like Kafka, which is fitting to say the least. Kafuku is a classical Russian literature archetype, like a Dostoevsky character his pain does not allow him to fully integrate into his surroundings and it is the source of the friction underlying the plot. He is a relatively famous actor who mostly participates in avant-garde plays, characterized by the blending of many languages into universal humanistic stories, but he does not appear to take any joy from his success. He is not angry nor self-flagellating, he just chooses not to engage with difficult truths, and it stifles his ability to thrive.
The titular car that he must allow others to drive is an older red Saab that he meticulously maintains. He drives it while listening to a tape of his wife reciting script lines. This helps him both learn the play intimately, but it also is a way to connect with his wife rather than communicating direct. His life is not a happy one, but one of stalwart perseverance and artistic expression. Throughout the course of the plot, he meets a young driver named Misaki Watari played by Toko Miura, who is forced upon him by a job opportunity he accepts. Driving was a controlled experience for him, something he did not like to surrender to someone else. But as the film progresses the ritualistic driving of the car becomes an integral part of his characters progression, and the progression of Misaki as well. The symbolism of lettering someone else drive his car is deep and profound.
While the film is a compelling character study of Kafuku, it is not without flaws. Some of the supporting performances did not compel me. The film is also extraordinarily long. I enjoyed most of the runtime, but I cannot recommend this to the average movie goer, it will bore them. If I am honest certain scenes, particularly the table read scenes, bored me as well. But ultimately there is a character to this film that I find incredibly endearing.
Critically, the filmography is enrapturing, and even when the plot creeps along, the meticulous framing of each shot, the cigarette drags, the highways, the coastlines, it's just a delight to look at. Layered in with these beautiful shots is a tone of quiet and meditative contemplation that is a pleasure to observe. Drive my Car is excellent and idiosyncratic, and certainly worth a view for anyone who can appreciate its nuances and will not be fatigued by its leisurely pace.
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