A Scene From 2011 To Go Home With You
“Life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a razor.” – The Iliad
Driver (Ryan Gosling) and Irene (Carey Mulligan) stand in the hallway of their low rent apartment building waiting for the elevator. A heist involving Driver in an attempt to help Irene’s husband has, as it must, gone wrong. Her husband is dead. The obligatory mobster wants his heist money and wants Irene and her young son, with whom Driver has forged a tender friendship, eliminated if he’s not going to get it. Driver has the money and agrees to give it to the obligatory mobster in exchange for the safety of Irene and her young son. But mobsters will be mobsters and he sends a hitman to the low rent apartment building to do away with all three of them anyway and collect the money. Which brings us back to Driver and Irene waiting in the hallway of their low rent apartment building for the elevator.
They have the typical exchange in these sorts of situations. Driver suggests he could go away with Irene. She doesn’t exactly say yes or no, partly because one of the wonders of Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive is the way in which no one really ever SAYS yes or no, preferring instead to merely DO or NOT DO.
The elevator door opens. A man in a suit is aboard. He makes a move to disembark but stops short. “Sorry,” he says. “Wrong floor.” He steps back in. Irene steps aboard. But Driver lets his gaze linger on Man In Suit. Driver knows what’s up, even if he’s not about to tell or signal quite yet that he does. And so he steps aboard too, to the left of Man In Suit and reaches across him to press the button for his floor, a move which suggests one male wordlessly telling the other male, “This is MY area, not yours, and I will protect it.” The doors slide shut.
Now we are in the elevator. The camera is looking up, Irene to the right of the frame, eyes dead ahead, likely thinking about Driver’s just-made offer, with Man In Suit to the left of the frame, “subtly” eyeballing Driver. Now it’s a reverse shot, Irene still lost in contemplation and Driver “subtly” eyeballing Man In Suit. The camera now cuts in close – suggesting Driver’s POV – to Man In Suit and pans down, revealing a gun tucked away inside his finely tailored coat. (Stupid hitmen! They always do this! Sheesh! Hide that gun, guy!) Back to the shot of Irene looking ahead and Driver “subtly” eyeballing his newfound enemy. Driver looks away. He now knows full well time, score and situation.
The film switches to a wide shot of the elevator which, for being in a low rent building sure looks like it’s art designed to the high heavens, but that, of course, should not be and isn’t of consequence. Man In Suit lingers to the right of the frame in the foreground. In the background, without turning to face her, Driver shifts his right hand back, finds Irene, and delicately moves her to the far corner of the descending elevator.
The camera moves in close on just Driver and Irene, panning up, disregarding Man In Suit because now for a few precious moments the elevator and the world exist just for them. He gently puts his hand on her and swoops in for the kiss as Cliff Martinez’s lush score plays. Irene’s face is oddly indifferent, not saying yes, not saying no, not taking on excitement, not expressing apprehension. Then again, it’s not so odd. Drive as a whole is about its actors so often not reacting, and her simple decision to accept and receive says everything. Their faces tantalizingly dance in and out of the shadows as their kiss – not quite in Hawkeye and Cora’s league (whose is?) but close enough – proceeds. At last, Driver pulls away and emerges from the shadow into the light for but a brief instant before having his face concealed by the darkness again. He draws his closer to Irene, as if to kiss her again, but stops short. To business he must attend.
Now the camera is in the rear of the elevator, the backs of Irene and Man In Suit to us and Driver facing us. Driver glances at Man In Suit and attacks, throwing him up against the elevator wall and then hurling him to the floor. Irene, as taken aback as she is terrified, slides out of the way. Driver stomps on the face of Man In Suit. And stomps and stomps and stomps and stomps. Irene is shaken. Man In Suit is helpless and Driver is making sure he can’t pull the old cinematic trick of Dead Man Who Isn’t Really Dead. The stomps ring out on the soundtrack, as if the sound designer has employed punches from an old Joe Frazier fight. Finally, when Man In Suit essentially no longer possess a face, Driver relents. The elevator door opens. Irene backs out. Driver turns to face her. She faces him. Where do they go now?
Where do we go now?
On my recent 2011 Top 10 movies list Adam from 3guys1movie asked me in regards to my exclusion of Drive if I had not seen it or if I had just not cared for it. A reasonable question. I liked it very much and really only had a few minor quibbles with it, yet…… I will admit that in the face of my favorite films (or favorite pieces of art in general) I am prone to enormous emotional letdowns. I could barely function after the conclusion of Black Swan the first time I saw it but, of course, that was the conclusion. I could regroup and re-stabilize post-movie. But the Elevator Scene in Drive is nowhere near the end. There is still much more to go. And the emotional intensity and insane beauty of the two minute sequence overwhelmed me so much I fear I suffered an emotional crash and burn in the midst of the movie. I somehow needed to pause the projector and recuperate except, clearly, this wasn’t an option. This isn’t fair to the film and that’s why I’m not criticizing the film itself in any way whatsoever. I’m just trying to provide my idiotic logic.
Death, as odd as it seems, has been ridiculously cheapened by the cinema. Deaths in a Michael Bay movie are no different than drivers backing out of the driveway and over unsuspecting worms on a rainy morning. Even The Bourne Supremacy, a film I cherish, casts aside innocent victims with reckless abandon. There has been much talk of the excessive violence contained throughout Drive. Whether or not is excessive in any other portion of the film I cannot and will not say but I will say that in this moment on the elevator it is absolutely correct. No one can truly imagine death because it is so unimaginable. Whether going in your sleep or stepping on a land mine, the how of death isn’t so much the issue for living as the what and where and this is because the what and the where in the wake of death are questions of excess, which is to say questions going beyond the normal limit of our ability to grasp them.
Drive is so much about saying something when nothing is being said. That’s why this moment says everything without speaking a word. Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor and this is why Driver taking Irene and kissing her isn’t some cockamamie melodramatic moment. It’s that razor. It’s him saying: In this moment I will live, because in this next moment I may die.
WHAT ONE SCENE FROM 2011 WOULD YOU TAKE HOME?
25 Comments
Funny you mention it, in the talk I went to yesterday featuring Carey Mulligan, they talked about this very scene and how in the original script, there was to be no kiss between the Gosling character and Irene.
Really? I champion writers at every turn, yet that goes to show you how so often the director (and the actors) craft it into their own thing. In this case, they made the right decision.
Great write up. This is probably my favourite scene of the year too, but I think I would instead take home with me the scene in Hugo when Hugo and Isabelle discover cinema in that little book. It’s absolutely wonderful, and films are such beautiful things.
Thank you. While I confess to having some issues with Hugo, I did certainly appreciate its warm ode to the cinema.
Great post! It’s hard to sum this year up in one scene, but if you put a gun to my head, I’d probably go with the silent 15-minute opening of HUGO, where Scorsese zips his camera to and fro through the trainstation and shows you what 3-D can be in the hands of a master.
He introduces most of the major players and gives us a sense of setting without a proper line of dialogue being spoken.
Then, almost like an afterthought, he slaps the title card on it and sparks that “Oh yeah!” moment when we all remember that the credits haven’t actually appeared yet.
It could almost stand as a short film all on its own…but for Scorsese, it’s just the beginning.
Wow. Two “Hugo” references back to back! That opening WAS fairly spectacular. Agreed. And funny you should mention that title card. Its appearance provided me that same sensation, I kind of forgot about it, however, until you mentioned it.
Wow… probably that scene you just described from Drive.
If I had another choice, it would be the entire Creation of Earth sequence from The Tree of Life.
If I had to select the single most Balls To The Wall Sequence of 2011, it would probably be the Creation of Earth sequence. No matter what you think of it….that took guts.
That scene had me feeling very conflicted. On the one hand it is a gorgeously tender moment between two people with great chemistry and on the other it’s a horrifying occasion of excessively graphic brutality. One of my favourite scenes of the year was in The Tree of Life, watching Jessica Chastain as Mrs O’Brien, respond to the news that her son has died. We’re just left with the image and her grief. No sound is needed. Nice post.
I think Refn probably wanted the scene leaving you conflicted. Of course, as you stated, in some cases that can negate a viewer’s pleasure in watching it, especially as far as he takes the latter portion of it.
The elevator scene is definitely a classic. I’ve been taking the stairs ever since I saw it! Hahaha!
Indeed. You wouldn’t want to encounter Ryan Gosling and Carey Mulligan in the elevator. He might just stomp on your head for no reason.
“No, no, no! Ryan! I really DID get off on the wrong floor! Pat me down! See?! No gun! I said, no gun!!! I just came here to feed my friend’s cat!”
Great choice for a scene. It’s definitely in my top five favorite scenes from last year. And I agree with your assessment of the cheapening of death in cinema. When I saw Drive (first of all, I’m pretty sure I was the only one in the theater who liked it), everyone else was annoyed by how seemingly slow the first half of the movie was. They wanted a Fast and the Furious movie. Then, when the violence did happen, they loudly cheered, but then quickly quieted, after being disturbed by the brutality of it all. They didn’t know how to react. I think that’s just the kind of reaction Refn was going for.
Totally. Won’t it be exciting to see what Refn does next?
What he’s doing next is a film called Only Gods Forgive about a gangster and a Bangkok police officer going head-on in the world of Thai-fighting boxing style.
Great post! This is truly a masterfully directed sequence. From their quiet conversation in the hallway waiting for the lift, all the way to the door closing with Irene on the outside, separating them forever.
Thank you! There seems to be a lot of love from everyone for this sequence, which makes me happy.
I completely agree with you about this scene. It seems to be one of the most favourited ones of 2011. I love the juxtaposition of sweet and tender first kiss and uber violence. Really sexy and worked on every level for me!!
Great job matey
Ah, juxtapositon. I do love it so.
Great summation. For me, this is one of the most critical scenes of the entire movie. We’ve already watched the Driver get his hands bloody, but even during the motel room killings there’s a sense that the Driver is in control; here, he’s absolutely out of control. And in both of his actions that suggest his relinquishment of his self-control (passionately kissing Irene, brutally murdering the finger man), we realize why he puts so much of his energy into restraint.
This is what happens when the Driver loses control. He makes himself emotionally vulnerable (to Irene), and he brutally, barbarically murders another human being. In fairness, he didn’t really have much choice other than to perform a preemptive strike on his would-be assailant, but the degree to which the Driver escalates his assault is frightening.
Fine analysis as always, man. Nothing I can add. Well said.
Beautiful deconstruction of the scene Nick, what made it for myself was the contradiction between the beautiful rhythm of the non-diegetic sound and the disturbing violence of Gosling’s character.
Thank you very much. Those contradictions in the same scene are just the best, aren’t they? When a movie can do two things at once, that’s what I love.
And this scene is why I think Carey is just outstanding in Drive and Ryan is just okay. Perhaps I’ll only ever like Gosling, but there’s something about him, I don’t know…to much…muchness. I know more than a few feel Carey’s out of place (especially considering Refn saying that it was initially ended as an older Latina) but her silence in this scene is so loud. Great choice for a writeup.
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