"Baby Driver"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Baby is a very good driver. ‘Baby’ is his name (though, yes, he is quite young—maybe a teenager), and getaway driving is his business. He drives fast and creatively, getting his criminal cohort out of jam after jam by spinning out, dodging into alleys, riding up on embankments, and driving 90 in reverse. His driving is like art—like music.

Which makes sense because Baby listens to music pretty much 24/7. He has tinnitus from a car accident way back, and so listens to music to drown out the ringing. He also just likes music, makes music, and treats us (the audience) to his own personal “bank robbing” Spotify station throughout the movie.

Baby works for Doc (Kevin Spacey), who is a sort of crime boss. Doc sets up heists with various different crews, but Baby is always his driver.

Baby is a nice guy, though, and a kid. So you might wonder how he got mixed up with a character like Doc. Turns out Baby once stole a car loaded with some of Doc’s especially valuable merchandise, and instead of just killing him or breaking his knees, Doc decides to make Baby his indentured servant.

So Baby whips around town with hardened criminals in his back seat and carefully selected tracks on his iPod. There’s an oddly light touch with this soundtrack, and more generally with the mood of the movie, given how hard some of these criminals are—they are thieves, yes, but also cruel, unrepentant murderers. But I guess you’ve gotta pay the bills somehow.

And Baby is almost square with Doc. So, although Baby’s chosen profession is less than savory, he’s just about out, and he promises to become a new man (or I guess just a man, since it’ll be the first time).

And Baby really wants to be out. Some of that I suppose has to do with him being a “good” person. But it also has to do with a budding romance with Debora (Lily James), a waitress who gets Baby’s quirks and who is also eager to start anew.

So Baby is counting down the days. The problem is, as you might have guessed, Doc isn’t exactly keen on Baby leaving. Baby is Doc’s driver. And he’s good. Doc needs a good driver. And Doc always does what it takes to get what he needs.

So Doc makes all the usual threats—knee-breaking, family hurting, girlfriend harassing, etc. And so Baby appears to be stuck.

But, when you think about it, getting unstuck is sort of Baby’s specialty.

“Baby Driver” is in many ways—perhaps even at its core—a bad movie. Its plot is painfully unoriginal. Its characters are (mostly) irritating. Its acting is spotty (Ansel Elgort is an exception on each of the last two counts). And its screenplay is cliché and way too talky/telly. You know there’s a problem when you wish the deaf/mute character would just wrap it up already.

All signs point to a flop. And yet, somehow, the movie is … I hesitate to say it, but: It’s enjoyable. There’s no denying it. This hollowed-out hulk of a movie has some other ingredient—something like style—that sort of saves it. Over its rust-ravaged frame is some magical glittery paint that makes it watchable, even likable. Baby’s driving is a ton of fun to watch. The soundtrack is good. And Baby himself has charisma. The love story, which is really dumb in a lot of ways, is nonetheless easy to get into.

I suppose it’s sort of like the cool kid in class—he’s got no depth or personality and really is pretty unbearable when you think about it, but he’s handsome and just has some kind of watchable way about him. “Baby Driver” is like that. I don’t condone it. But, ya know, I did kinda like watching it.