The Driver

As many other Walter Hill films, The Driver portraits a stripped universe inhabited by archetypes. These are nameless, speechless and can trace their roots to the principles of Epic.

It can happen in any city, during the late 70s or nowadays but as a film noir in its essence, exclusively at night.

The performances are great and the car chases register no equal in film history. The pace of the delivery of lines is almost as suspensful as the story itself.

The minimalism of Hill's execution resembles the cinema of Jean Pierre Melville and the film's universe picks up there where Hawks, Walsh and Siegel left.

It's an exercise in style, a triumph of a clever mind, a loveable barren film that adresses, from particular detail, general, eternal issues.