To the degree that the separation between comedy and drama
remains relevant (or honest as far as award showology is concerned),
Edgar Wright’s films generally gets placed in the comedy category which might
be giving them short shrift. His genre parodies have a certain lightness to
them when compared to the real thing but to call them laughter-inducing isn’t
an accurate word (unless, of course, you are finding it ha-ha funny on first viewing).
The only problem with shortchanging him is that there are so many other words
to describe the unique appeal of Wright’s unique works: kinetic, visually inventive, comfortable to
genre watchers, and affectionate. And yes, there’s a decent amount of pure
dramatic sediment that drives his stories first.
The two films I’ve seen prior to Baby Driver- Hot Fuzz
(2007) and Scott Pilgrim vs. the World (2010) - are cacophonies of sound and
action. The former is a buddy cop parody on overdrive. Like a Terry Gilliam
film, the biggest draw is its visual invention. Like a kid playing with the
rewind and forward buttons on a tape recorder (only a thousand times better),
Wright’s affection for his subject is matched, perhaps overshadowed, by his
love for telling a story. Simon Pegg’s arc - a determinator cop who needs to
loosen up a little – hits its emotional notes but it’s more of a soft landing.
Scott Pilgrim is a hybrid adaptation of a comic and a cross-medium
exploration merging conventions of films and video games. Michael Cera plays
the titular character. He’s a bassist in a band and a hopeless romantic and
despite looking and sounding like Michael Cera, he finds relatively
good-looking women willing to date him and is considered hip amongst
his small circle of friends in his small town (did I mention that the film is
set in Toronto, the fourth largest city on the continent!?). Pilgrim finds an
appropriate emo girl of his dreams but things start getting surreal when her
seven exes show up and he must defeat them in videogame combat which is where
the majority of the cool visual trickery comes in.
For some odd reason, everyone in the film is a manic pixie
dream something (whether roommate, bandmate, sibling, standard Aubrey Plaza
character or ex-girlfriend): Everyone in his life is incessantly interested in
the news of his love life without ever having a need to share news of their own
with him. Perhaps if the film is a meta-commentary on how video games are an exercise
in egocentric empowerment, it’s fitting that Scott Pilgrim is at the center of
his own universe. The mythology of this filmic universe is rich with parallels
to video games that add a layer of depth and richness to the story. There’s
also a thru-line of symbolism here about how romantic courtship with a damaged
partner involves a metaphorical fight against their baggage. In short, there’s
a lot of depth here. On top of that, it’s a movie about a guy asking a girl to
love him (or whatever that line from “Notting Hill” is).
Like Wes Anderson and “Grand Budapest Hotel” or Richard
Linklater and “Boyhood”, “Baby Driver” is the kind of film that has the
potential to make Edgar Wright a player in the awards season and cement his
place as an acclaimed director (again, as far as awards matter). Like the band OK
Go’s YouTube career, Edgar Wright’s technical expertise is used for an entirely
different magic trick: In this case, it’s attempting to stage the most
ambitious car chases ever seen without use of green screen. At the same time,
the film is rich with character work: Miles AKA Baby is an original creation
with deep back story and the work by John Hamm, Jamie Foxx, Kevin Spacey and
Lily James builds up the support significantly. More importantly, there’s a
deep emotional component at play with Baby’s newfound love, his good will towards
innocent civilians in dangerous situations, the hole in his life from his late
mom, his care for his foster dad, and his emotional coming-of-age as a man of
moral character. Baby's final surrender isn't just a nice combination of sound and music but something of an emotional meaning.
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