The operation attempted by Patrick Lussier Drive Angry with the same is clearly made by Alexandre Aja with his recent Piranha.
To bring together the two films, in fact, there is only the use of 3D ultracamp and exaggerated, reported by his (real) dimension of superfluous gadgets and hypertrophic spectacular, but the project of revival of a subgenre.
If in that case we honored a certain kind of horror, here is the exploitation cinema of the Seventies (already covered in his own way by Tarantino in Grindhouse – Death Proof) to be the subject of an imaginative irreverence pierinesca rebooting the mark.
Yeah, Tarantino. But Lussier is not Tarantino, you know and you do not want to be. All you can do with someone like him such an operation is to take the film to which both were inspired by the iconography, and season with both direct and indirect references to cinema-division yesterday, but especially today, accumulating all without feeling a real need to mix and organize.
And then, if with great effort of imagination to John Milton Nic Cage may have something of Kurt Russell’s Stuntman Mike, that’s the most obvious references to Drive Angry are tracked in a series of Fast & Furious, hyper-realistic and caricature in the action to Shoot ‘Em Up in Death Race Paul WAS version Anderson. All this is topped with a sauce surreal / Satanist leading vague hints of The Prophecy and its sequels.
Embracing the squared derivative nature of his film (copies of copies), Lussier think to get by pounding hard on the pedal and quotations coattaggine, flaunting – with pride – bad taste funny, female nudity, violence, gore and predictable punch lines as appropriate .
Not that some of its objectives are not focused, for charity, but the overall effort to Drive Angry unstuck off the impression of creating a false and Planning, where the coarse is too ostentatious (fake) irony and rigid mechanical nature to be convincing, not to look plastic.
And then the movie starts in parallel with Amber Heard, Actress of undoubted good looks in an absolute sense, but – at least in this case – entirely devoid of sensual and erotic. O with Nicolas Cage having fun but without much conviction, even without its famous excesses, entertaining us only halfway.
Quite the contrary, instead of William Fichtner, excellent character that in this case is cloaked in elegant enough, but not sbertucciando honoring some of the best roles of Christopher Walken to get off to class and sarcasm of the most beautiful character throughout the film. Obviously underutilized.