April 27, 2001 | In Driven , a furiously flashy and thunderously loud movie about personal and professional upheavals on the Championship Auto Racing Team circuit, Sylvester Stallone makes yet another attempt to vroom-vroom down the comeback trail. But even though he wrote the screenplay – and, not surprisingly, crafted the movie’s most intriguing and well-rounded character for himself – he didn’t design the drama as a star vehicle. Evidencing equal measures of modesty, pragmatism and commercial-minded calculation, Stallone takes a backseat to the younger guys during most of the racetrack action, asserting himself only when he offers life lessons, career guidance and similar nuggets of hard-down wisdom.
Once you get past the initial hurdle of accepting the Italian Stallion as a gray eminence, you might enjoy Stallone’s self-effacing and effortlessly ingratiating performance as Joe Tanto, a former CART star who took a nasty drop from the top of the hill after a near-fatal accident. (Substitute “star of Rocky and Rambo ” for “former CART star,” and Rhinestone or Over the Top for “near-fatal accident,” and you’ll better appreciate the script’s autobiographical undercurrents.)
Tanto gets his last best shot at redemption when he’s called out of semi-retirement by seasoned car owner Carl Henry to serve as mentor and back-up driver for Jimmy Bly (Kip Pardue), a promising young rookie who may be too immature to sustain his winning streak. That Henry is played by Burt Reynolds, another tarnished superstar who came to prominence in the ’70s, adds to the impression that Driven may be more about passing the baton between generations than driving at high speeds past checkered flags.
Indeed, Tanto knows from the get-go that he isn’t supposed to win, or even try very hard, when he participates in a race. Rather, he’s there to impede the progress of other racers, by fair means or foul, while Bly maintains a healthy lead at the head of the pack. Between races, Tanto tries to teach the younger driver a few things about moderation and concentration. Bly has to make his own mistakes, of course, but Tanto wants to ensure none of those blunders are career-ending or life-threatening.
Trouble is, except for the cross-generational stuff, which is not without traces of genuine poignancy, Driven is pretty formulaic stuff about fast guys in formula cars. The characters are familiar stereotypes, and only a few of them stand out as individuals amid the thousands of paid extras and unpaid racing fans. (Much of the movie was shot at actual CART events, and many of the establishing shots focus on hot babes in skimpy attire.) Except for Tanto, who races only infrequently, and Memo Moreno (Chilean-born Cristian de la Fuente), a racing teammate who’s married to Tanto’s surly ex-wife (Gina Gershon), the only two CART competitors who matter at all are Bly, a boyish phenom who’s ready to rebel against his control-freakish manager-brother (Robert Sean Leonard); and Beau Brandenburg (German box-office heavyweight Til Schweiger), the reigning circuit champ.
Early in Driven , Brandenburg decides he must rid himself of all “distractions.” Unfortunately, he includes on the list of expendables his long-time girlfriend, Sophia (Estella Warren, a model-turned-actress who shouldn’t quit her day job). “Racing is my life!” Brandenburgh shouts as he shows her the door. “It’s not your life!” she counters. “This is what you do for a living.” That’s a good point, but Brandenburg fails to recognize the fine distinction until he sees Sophia in the arms of – yes, you guessed it! – his most formidable CART rival, Bly.
Instantly remorseful, Brandenburg woos Sophia back. Bitterly resentful, Bly responds to being dumped by drinking a great deal at a swanky party, then taking a racecar out for a 195-mph joyride through the streets of Chicago. Tanto follows in hot pursuit, cuing a spectacularly ridiculous chase sequence. Since this is a movie and not real life, the two drivers manage not to kill themselves or anyone else on the road. But they do get slapped with a hefty fine by CART officials, which I guess is the movie’s way of telling us: Don’t try this at home, kids.
Stallone is easygoing yet authoritative, demonstrating again, as he did in Copland , that he’s willing to act his age (i.e., 54) in meaty character roles. Schweiger is credible and creditable, despite his occasional and painfully obvious struggles with English-language dialogue. And Stacy Edwards ( In the Company of Men ) makes the most of a thinly written role as a sports journalist who gets up close and personal with Tanto. But Pardue too often comes across as a spoiled and self-indulgent brat. And Reynolds, while reasonably convincing in a clichéd role, looks like someone who’s had too many facelifts. Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt: Maybe his character, a former race driver left paralyzed after an accident, is supposed to have had reconstructive plastic surgery.
Director Renny Harlin – who previously jump-started Stallone’s stalled career in Cliffhanger – shoots all of the races from every conceivable angle, with every possible gimmick: Slo-mo sequences, helmet mini-cams, rapid-fire editing, speed-blurred driver’s p.o.v. shots, CGI camera tricks that are dazzling without being at all believable. Chief among the latter: A cartoonish-looking view of a wheel that flies off a wrecked car and into the grandstands. Here and elsewhere, Driven manages the difficult feat of appearing lavishly expensive and irredeemably cheesy all at once.
