Genre: Sci-Fi, Thriller
Director: Patrick Lussier
Stars: Nicholas Cage
881⁄2
Drive Angry is a movie that should STFU — and by that I mean, “Stop Talking Fellows, Understand?”
It’s a supernatural road thriller starring Nicolas Cage, sizzling celluloid of a type normally relegated to drive-ins, grindhouses and other down-market retreats where the popcorn is served with buckets o’ blood.
Such films are not, God forbid, supposed to be showcases of snappy dialogue, especially when the dialogue snaps like a worn rubber band. When in doubt, say nothing and just cock your gun.
Drive Angry’s director Patrick Lussier (Dracula 2000) can’t seem to resist including every one of the macho mutterings he and co-writer Todd Farmer scribbled into their notebooks.
Thus a movie that could have left skid marks on our psyche — in 3-D no less — instead drives us to distraction with verbose line readings that kill momentum worse than a police flashlight shining through a parked windshield.
Each and every tortured soul in this Satan Get Your Gun farce feels compelled to explain to every other tortured soul what terrible thing is about to happen.
The failure of people to STFU is compounded by Cage phoning in yet another performance, as he continues to make us forget he ever won an Oscar.
The only thing that keeps Drive Angry from being completely derivative road stew is William Fichtner’s hilariously deadpan portrayal of The Accountant, Satan’s right-hand man, the guy who collects stray infidels. He’s the funniest satanic figure since Mr. Skin in Bruce McDonald’s Highway 61, and that was 20 years ago.
Extras include a commentary by Lussier and Farmer, deleted scenes and making-of featurettes. peter howell
