Drive My Car is a beautifully wrapped quiet work of art that hits you when you least expect it. It's a slow-burning arthouse vehicle about grief and love that unfolds over a three-hour run time.
Adapted by Ryûsuke Hamaguchi from a short story by Haruki Murakami, the Best Picture-nominated Drive My Car follows middle-age actor and theatre director, Yûsuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima), whose television writer wife Oto (Reika Kirishima) dies unexpectedly from a cerebral hemorrhage and he finds her on the floor of their apartment.
Two years later, he moves to Hiroshima to put on a stage version of Chekhov's Uncle Vanya. As part of the job, he has to agree to have a chauffeur drive him to and from work. He isn't happy with this stipulation, as he his own ritual with his precious red Saab, which happens to be his escape and his comfort. Before her death, Oto recorded herself reading all the parts in Uncle Vanya, as she always did for Yûsuke to memorize. Now, he drives around playing her tape and reciting his lines of the play.
However, he is genuinely pleased with the diligence and competence of his assigned driver, Misaki (Tôko Miura). She carries her own grief with her, but she is more than happy to just press play on the tape while she sits in silence driving him around.
Nishijima and Miura both deliver performances that are understated, to say the least, carrying the weight of the film like their characters carry the weight of their guilt.
The visuals are compelling, especially when the camera gives a bird's eye view of the car driving through empty roads. A good portion of the film takes place in the car, making use of the tight space to focus on the actor and the dialogue without any other distractions.
One particularly standout scene is when one of the theatre actors, Kōji Takatsuki (Masaki Okada), is sitting in the back seat of the car with Yūsuke and starts recalling one of Oto's stories. He stares point blank into the camera and forces the audience to be captivated by his story. The camerawork in that moment brings out all the emotions that the viewer doesn't expect. It's thrilling, and a cinematic moment that's very telling of Hamaguchi's directing style.
Another beautiful frame is the shot of Yusuke and Misaki's hands from the car's open sunroof, each holding lit cigarettes, without so much as a word.
Drive My Car is a beautiful piece of work with incredible restraint, holding the tension throughout the film. While three hours might seem a tad too long, there's incredible depth and emotion interspersed with symbolic visuals, resulting in a film that provides comfort just as much as it reminds audiences of the casualties and collisions in one's own life.
(Films We Like)Adapted by Ryûsuke Hamaguchi from a short story by Haruki Murakami, the Best Picture-nominated Drive My Car follows middle-age actor and theatre director, Yûsuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima), whose television writer wife Oto (Reika Kirishima) dies unexpectedly from a cerebral hemorrhage and he finds her on the floor of their apartment.
Two years later, he moves to Hiroshima to put on a stage version of Chekhov's Uncle Vanya. As part of the job, he has to agree to have a chauffeur drive him to and from work. He isn't happy with this stipulation, as he his own ritual with his precious red Saab, which happens to be his escape and his comfort. Before her death, Oto recorded herself reading all the parts in Uncle Vanya, as she always did for Yûsuke to memorize. Now, he drives around playing her tape and reciting his lines of the play.
However, he is genuinely pleased with the diligence and competence of his assigned driver, Misaki (Tôko Miura). She carries her own grief with her, but she is more than happy to just press play on the tape while she sits in silence driving him around.
Nishijima and Miura both deliver performances that are understated, to say the least, carrying the weight of the film like their characters carry the weight of their guilt.
The visuals are compelling, especially when the camera gives a bird's eye view of the car driving through empty roads. A good portion of the film takes place in the car, making use of the tight space to focus on the actor and the dialogue without any other distractions.
One particularly standout scene is when one of the theatre actors, Kōji Takatsuki (Masaki Okada), is sitting in the back seat of the car with Yūsuke and starts recalling one of Oto's stories. He stares point blank into the camera and forces the audience to be captivated by his story. The camerawork in that moment brings out all the emotions that the viewer doesn't expect. It's thrilling, and a cinematic moment that's very telling of Hamaguchi's directing style.
Another beautiful frame is the shot of Yusuke and Misaki's hands from the car's open sunroof, each holding lit cigarettes, without so much as a word.
Drive My Car is a beautiful piece of work with incredible restraint, holding the tension throughout the film. While three hours might seem a tad too long, there's incredible depth and emotion interspersed with symbolic visuals, resulting in a film that provides comfort just as much as it reminds audiences of the casualties and collisions in one's own life.