Whoa Is Him

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I don't know why it is that I've found myself incapable of writing up a review for Nicholas Wending Refn's masterful new movie Drive since seeing it last week, but I keep (wait for it) spinning my wheels. Ugh, right? That's the problem - this film doesn't just lend itself to a really just awful assortment of automotive descriptions and groan-worthy puns, it commands them. Junk like "sleek" and "handles like a dream" just keep coming to the front of my brain and destroying my ability to write anything at all. It's a conundrum. I thought I might be inspired by reading other people's reviews and oh my god, we're all in this together. And this movie is better than that. So much so. It deserves more. 

Thankfully I'm seeing it a second time tomorrow night, so I'm pinning my hopes on that being the kick in the pants my brain needs. (Yes, my brain wears pants.) And then hopefully I can get something together for Thursday. And I know nobody much cares that I haven't said anything, none of you are gasping for oxygen over it, but it's literally - LITERALLY - been eating me alive for a week, so this post is a little bit of an exorcism of that pent-up energy. Anyway let's give it a little more reason for being then. Gosling four times!