The Greatest Human Being Alive Right Now, it should come as no surprise to anyone that Drive is brilliant. Be warned, though: it's not the "action caper" it's occasionally been mismarketed as, and I'd be surprised if it finds much love in a Friday night audience hoping for something to fill a Vin Diesel-sized gap in their lives. Because Danish arthouse director Nicolas Winding Refn has taken the car heist genre and swapped out its engine for a brooding, noir-as-night heart that beats to the rhythm of an achingly hip Eurosynth soundtrack. Fast 6 Furious this is not.
And if Refn and Gosling have employed any kind of philosophy to the creation of Drive, it's that less is more: not just in terms of the unexpected bursts of violence but also the dialogue. Gosling's nameless driver only speaks when he has to, lending every word a chilling significance, and the scenes he shares with Carey Mulligan seem to hang in the air while you infer all sorts of meaning from their near-wordless performances. At times you'd be forgiven for thinking you're watching a big screen version of If we don't, remember me, and that's no bad thing.
Rumbling underneath all this is Cliff Martinez's throbbing score, half heartbeat and half idling engine, perfectly capturing the Los Angeles underbelly setting before occasionally erupting into some of the most perfect '80s-esque electronica this side of Ladytron's greatest hits, and - thanks to one unforgettable tune - questioning what it means to be a real human being, and a real hero.