Drive My Car
Director: Ryusuke Hamaguchi
Screenwriter: Ryusuke Hamaguchi, Takamasa Oe
Original Source Material: “Drive My Car”, Haruki Murakami
Cinematographer: Hidetoshi Shinomiya
Production Companies: C&I Entertainment, Culture Entertainment, Bitters End, Nekojarashi, Quaras, Nippon Shuppan Hanbai, Bungeishunju, L’Espace Vision, The Asahi Shimbun Company
Distributor: Bitters End
Release Date: 20 August 2021
Runtime: 3 hours
MPA Rating: Unrated
Availability: Theaters, HBO Max
Synopsis
Director Ryusuke Hamaguchi takes us on an emotional journey that’s both heartbreaking and uplifting in his film Drive My Car. The story centers on 40-something theater director Yusuke (Hidetoshi Nishijima), who, after the sudden death of his wife, Oto (Reika Kirishima), accepts an offer to direct a stage production of Uncle Vanya in Hiroshima. As part of his contract, he must submit to having the quiet yet competent 23-year-old Misaki (Toko Miura) drive him to and from locations during his residency. Although the pair start off as strangers, their opening up to each other over the course of the production helps them deal with their trauma and be grateful for life.
Analysis
The first aspect of the film I’d like to discuss is its message about dealing with the past. The movie’s main characters – Yusuke, Misaki, even the fictional literary character Uncle Vanya – have become consumed by their troubled pasts to the point of being stuck in time, indifferent to life as it passes them by. It’s only by learning to lean on other people that these people can make peace with the seemingly irreconcilable contradictions that define their past and embrace the present for the gift that it is. A big reason why I like this message is it isn’t clean: it asserts that there are truths at odds with one another that define not only our past, but also us as individuals. Trying to view our pasts or ourselves in absolutes is a fool’s errand; all truths are equally valid, and that’s something with which we must simply make peace. The movie’s message also strongly resonated with me because I too obsess over past mistakes and regrets, and have found that opening up more to others has helped me in this area. Therefore, it was really comforting being able to see myself in this film’s main characters and relate to their arcs.
On the acting front, Hidetoshi Nishijima is a great lead as Yusuke. We’re easily able to empathize with Yusuke given how multifaceted he is: he’s a devoted husband, driven artist, and is compassionate towards others, but at the same time can be forlorn, emotionally distant, and sometimes even vindictive. This, along with the fact that we experience the events of the film almost entirely from his perspective, makes us much more emotionally invested in his journey. He’s someone who we want to get closure with their past so that he can be emotionally healed enough to embrace the present. This attachment wouldn’t be possible if Hidetoshi weren’t there to flesh out his character effectively. His acting is pretty nuanced for most of the film, but we can easily infer his state of mind based on things like facial expressions and his/Yusuke’s subtle attempts at deception. On the flip side, whenever Hidetoshi/Yusuke has an emotional outburst, it feels raw and significant given how composed his character usually is. Credit’s due to both the script and Hidetoshi for giving us a protagonist who’s authentic and deserving of a better life.
Toko Miura also shines as the reserved and strait-laced Misaki. Unlike the case of Yusuke, we don’t know what to make of Misaki at first, given how quiet and unemotional she is. However, the development of her relationship with Yusuke provides a catalyst for her coming out of her shell. It’s the combination of both Misaki’s voluntary silence, the fact that she’s willing to open up to Yusuke, as well as the pieces of personal info she eventually shares with him, that presents us with a full view of her identity. And although we may not feel as emotionally attached to her as we do to Yusuke, we remain invested in seeing her break out of her shell so that she too can start living life to the fullest. While the character isn’t written to be as expressive as Yusuke, Toko does a good job at giving us a feel for Misaki through body language and tone of voice. And that’s not to say Toko plays Misaki emotionally deadpan the entire time either: Toko’s performance becoming more emotional – albeit very nuanced – perfectly captures the advancement of Misaki’s character. So by the time the credits roll, it feels like we’ve had the chance to understand who Misaki is and hopeful that she’ll lead a happier life.
I’d also like to talk a little bit about the film’s creative approach to cinematography and sound design. The picture quality of scenes is crystal-clear but doesn’t prevent the film from still feeling cinematic. This feature, in combination with the optimal positioning of the camera to give us a clear view of what’s happening, makes what we see on screen feel like it’s taking place in real life. As for sound design, the absence of a score for most of the film means that our emotional reactions to scenes are natural rather than embellished/swayed. This absence also enables us to pick up on sounds we otherwise may not have noticed, further engrossing us in the world. The creative use of these technical elements thus firmly places the film in reality, leading to a much more authentic viewing experience.
Conclusion
In closing, Drive My Car is the type of film that will resonate with you on a deep emotional level. It’s a beautiful story about people learning to make peace with their pasts by opening up to others, and you’ll be rooting for the two main characters the whole time. And in case the 3-hour runtime freaks you out, the film’s well-paced enough that it never drags or feels overwhelming. I certainly walked out of the theater feeling better about life and the people who are closest to me, and I’m sure you’ll feel the same way.