Fast cars, buckwild women and Nicolas *MOTHERFUCKIN* Cage drinking beer from a bloody skull. This bitch-slap of a movie is packed with more irony than Larry David’s life and dear god do we salute it. DRIVE ANGRY is a pompous grindhouse movie for our times. Instead of using the pretentious ‘inside-joke’ approach of Tarantino’s DEATH PROOF, director Patrick Lussier created a B-movie inspired action film that is both accessible and insane. Nicolas Cage is Milton, a man we have seen many times before-stoic, angry, relentless Cage. Once the king of indie film, Nic he has seasoned himself an eclectic resume. Basically, if he wants to be a sorcerer, he’ll be a goddamn sorcerer but this time, he’s in the mood for crashing some cars.
Milton has clawed out through the depths of hell to avenge his daughter’s death and save her baby from a Satantic sacrifice (sounds good eh? it gets better). When he’s not strolling away from a blazing car pile up in slow mo, he’s giving a rough smooch to a diner waitress. The hairline may have taken a few steps back and the swagger has turned to a limp, but Cage is still our hardboiled boy. And of course, every cliched action star needs a hillbilly girl with grit. Poured into ass-peeking denim shorts and a filthy mouth, along came Piper (played by Amber Heard). After Milton saves her from a serious domestic kicking, they hit the road together on the bumpy revenge-ride. With the merchant of death (played by William Fitcher) trying to drag Milton back to the brimstone, any possible time for dialogue is spent dodging bullets. You never really understand why Piper is willing to risk her life for a man she doesn’t love-or even know, but evidently she’s “with him till the end”-good enough for us.
Cut from the same cloth of retribution flicks like I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE, DRIVE ANGRY’S style of violence is raw, clever and almost cartoonish. The camera follows a speeding bullet as it lodges into a mans forehead, punch-ups focus in on the pummeled, bloody features of the victim. Yes, you can hear the blood spatter, but its worth barring the gore.
A 3D prefix is enough to deter any cinemagoer these days but with DRIVE ANGRY, it finally makes sense to me. Far from a production afterthought, the entire film was shot in 3D giving it an unpolished 70s look. Thankfully, this is the only thing about this movie that isn’t over the top. When a crashing police car lurches out at you from nowhere-it is genuinely impressive, not just a dizzying pain in the arse.
Lussier is truly jumping the Great White with Milton’s nemesis, Jonah King (played by Billy Burke) a slimy cult leader with satin shirts and a skull ring. The character is so hammy he all but licks the camera lens. But all is forgiven for the crash-bang crescendo, which, farcical as it is, creates genuine thrill and suspense. Did I mention that Cage shoots 6 men mid-sex scene? He keeps his clothes on, in case you were wondering.
Contentious fans of films like VANISHING POINT are likely to leave DRIVE ANGRY feeling violated. But if you worship the Cage to the point where you describe his performance in FACE/OFF as ‘seminal’ then you have to see this movie. Just be sure to insulate your cheeks with 90 minutes worth of popcorn and a good pale ale to swill it down.
