You know that unique sense of elation you get when you’re
walking down the street, listening to music, and something clicks and the
entire world around you suddenly seems to be moving to the beat of a tune only
you can hear? Edgar Wright’s “Baby Driver” manages to recreate that feeling,
but with high-octane car chases. And it’s just as awesome as it sounds.
Riffing on 1970’s heist thrillers — Walter Hill’s “The
Driver” is a particular inspiration — “Baby Driver” is the story of a young
getaway driver named Baby (that’s B-A-B-Y, Baby), played with boyish charm by
Ansel Elgort. A car accident as a child left Baby with tinnitus, and he listens
to music nearly every waking moment in order to drown out the constant ringing
in his ears. It’s that music that provides the ever-present soundtrack for the
film.
A life of crime seems an odd fit for the sweet-natured Baby,
and we learn that years prior he inadvertently stole from a cutthroat crime
boss, Doc (Kevin Spacey in deadpan, menacing mode), and the wheelman job is his
way of paying back his debt. But he wants out, and when he meets and
immediately becomes smitten with a diner waitress named Debora (Lily James,
delightful in a somewhat underwritten role) they make plans to run away and
start a new life together.
Baby has one last job before he and Doc call it square, although
naturally things don’t quite work out that simply. Circumstances conspire to
pull him back into the fold, and Baby finds himself in over his head with the
unstable trio of criminals — played by Jamie Foxx, Jon Hamm, and Eiza González — who round out Doc’s current crew.
It’s a familiar story, but it’s the way it’s told that sets
“Baby Driver” apart. Wright is one of the most talented directors working
today, and you can sense the joy he gets from everything that unfolds on
screen. The action sequences are staged with the precision of an
elegantly-choreographed dance number — enough so that more than one review has
called the film a stealth musical.
The beautifully rhythmic editing from Jonathan Amos and Paul Machliss times every action to the eclectic soundtrack — loaded
with songs from T. Rex, Barry White, and Queen. Every squealing tire, slammed
car door, and bullet blast lines up perfectly to the music (sometimes subtlety
so), and the technique lends the entire film a propulsive pop beat. Admittedly,
the editing style does feel like a bit of a disservice to the sometimes
jaw-dropping practical stunt driving being done, but more often the synthesis
of action, performance, music, and editing leaves you feeling giddy.
This is Wright’s least overtly comedic film, though there are
moments of goofy humor, and Baby’s relationship with his deaf foster father
(NTID alum CJ Jones), along with his swoony romance with Debora, taps into
Wright’s sweet emotional sincerity. Still, this is an Edgar Wright film, so
there’s also quite a bit of his trademark bursts of violence and precisely
deployed gore.
“Baby Driver” supposedly came from an idea that’s been
rolling around in Wright’s brain for 20-plus years, and even if it doesn’t feel
as personal to Wright as his Cornetto Trilogy, much like those affectionate
takes on buddy-cop action flicks, science-fiction thrillers, or zombie horror,
Wright makes it all feel distinctly his own. “Baby Driver” may be purely an
exercise in style, but with Wright behind the wheel, you can be confident he’s
made sure to pack a little something extra under the hood.
This article appears in Jun 28 – Jul 4, 2017.
