What I Watched- Drive

This is more of an entry about what I don't want to do. Last night I watched Drive. I would link you to the trailer here, but, honestly, it contains almost all of Gosling's dialogue in the whole movie, as well as any facial expression which is not the frozen mask he wears throughout. (In a nice touch he does wear a mask of someone else's face as part of the plot and it is, smartly, almost impossible to tell it's a mask. This was the most intelligent move in the whole film.)

Mostly though, it's just another film featuring a monosyllabic, emotionally retarded white boy who somehow manages to have a magnetic personality that everyone is attracted to. (He glances at Carey Mulligan in an elevator and she feels compelled to track him down.) I am officially over this character type because there is no other story there. I'm also afraid that it's a source of so much that is repellent about white boy masculinity- the frozeness, the fear of any sort of emotion, the muteness.

I'm currently attracted to works that are big and don't apologize for their emotional core or movement. (I did love Albert Brook's character in the Drive. The scene where he walks into the garage and says "I was so excited about having my name on a car" felt like the best scene in the whole movie. He felt and wasn't ashamed of feeling.) Those are the works I want to write. They feel something and won't apologize for their bigness.

Unrelated to my weariness of what was ultimately an uninteresting (but pretty) movie, was a dislike of its fonts. Is 1980's pink semi-handwriting making a comeback? Let's not.