This week’s focus is on the intense neo-noir, The Driver. Directed by Walter Hill, this film stands out as an excellent example of how film noir evolved into experimental crime films during the 1970s. Inspired by Le Samourai, which itself drew from This Gun For Hire, The Driver offers a lean and purely cinematic experience—a nighttime world populated by criminals and frustrated police officers. While traditional film noir isn't typically associated with car movies, there are captivating scenes of criminals on the run, living and dying within vehicles. Films like Gun Crazy and the recent Criterion release of They Live By Night feature hypnotic crimes viewed from inside a car, drawing the viewer into the driver’s perspective in a mesmerizing way. This creates an adrenaline rush as you feel immersed in a real vehicle on a genuine street corner. Walter Hill's The Driver expands upon these moments, building an entire film around them. The cast includes performers associated with the disco era, and the movie features minimal dialogue. Bruce Dern delivers most of the lines while portraying the man pursuing the "driver," often barking orders at middle-aged cops played by actors who frequently appeared in crime films of that time. Isabelle Adjani provides a striking presence as the female lead, and Ryan O'Neal embodies the titular driver. With long, wavy hair and an open collar, he resembles a playboy attempting to charm Diane Keaton at a bar rather than a hardened criminal. Originally, Steve McQueen and Robert Mitchum were considered for the roles eventually played by O’Neal and Dern. Had they been cast, the film might have achieved greater recognition—perhaps even being classified as a classic—instead of fading into obscurity. However, it's uncertain whether their involvement would have resulted in a superior movie. Ryan’s lack of backstory only enhances his appeal; questions arise about his history, and notably, he doesn't even possess a name. This mirrors the feeling one gets watching the protagonist in Le Samourai—wondering about their origins and how they became who they are. O’Neal also makes an impressive entrance, slowly rising into view on a parking garage lift. Bruce Dern delivers some of his best work from the 1970s, resembling Ryan's brother in appearance. The film finds its strength when viewers accept and understand that it lacks conventional plot elements or humor. Just enjoy the experience. It avoids the lighthearted, joke-filled car movies characteristic of the 1970s, opting for a serious tone—something I appreciate given my fondness for those fun Burt Reynolds comedies. O’Neal never conveys enjoyment in his driving or frustration with the police; instead, he maintains a deadpan expression and unmoving hair, emphasizing the visuals of neon-lit downtown Los Angeles and the satisfying sounds of metal bending, tires squealing, and gears shifting. It's remarkable that McQueen declined the role, stating he didn’t want to make “another car movie.” It would have likely been one of his finest performances. Instead, it remains a largely forgotten film initially dismissed as pretentious in 1978—a box office failure that could be embraced by critics if released today. The release of Baby Driver demonstrated director Edgar Wright's debt to The Driver, which he repeatedly watched late at night on the BBC for inspiration. Similarly, Drive, starring Ryan Gosling, was a direct tribute to this 1978 neo-noir, though it’s a distinctly different film. Several films would pair well with The Driver for a double feature, including They Live By Night, Le Samourai, and other 1970s thrillers like Sorcerer, Bullitt, or even the equally poorly received romantic drama Aloha, Bobby and Rose. Some might dispute whether this film qualifies as noir; however, they would be incorrect. It possesses all the essential elements of film noir without attempting to imitate the style of the 1940s—and it’s quite a ride.

Source on TMDB