Jeremy Large Writing & Consulting Services

Earlier today I was listening to one of my favourite podcasts, Kill James Bond, a very sharp, very funny media criticism podcast. Normally, I find their analysis insightful and informed. But today I was listening to their episode on Baby Driver, a movie I think is clever, fun and stylishly executed, only to be dismayed as they tore it to shreds.

Now, on the one hand, I do agree with some of their complaints. The characterization of Ansel Egort’s Baby, and his love interest, is a little thin and tropey. It’s a bit strange that a movie set in Atlanta, Georgia, has so few prominent black characters. And Edgar Wright does sometimes run an obvious bit into the ground (but I personally kind of like that.)

But one complaint the hosts raised that I couldn’t agree with is that there are too many action scenes and car chases choreographed, shot, and edited, to the beat of the soundtrack. See, for example, this incredible opening sequence (which in fairness, the hosts of the podcast agree is very good):

The issue the hosts of KJB seem to have with these sequences isn’t even that they’re not well put together by a talented director, editors, stunt coordinators etc – they agree they’re well made. But what they don’t like is that there are so many of them – that the movie is full of them!

“Oh no, my steak is too juicy, my lobster is too buttery, etc. etc.”

Does one complain about how a Jackie Chan movie has too many fights involving elaborate comedy prop work? Does one complain about how Martin Scorsese is fond of a long tracking shot following a character through a complex environment? This is a case of, as the fandom phrase goes, looking inside a paper bag labelled ‘dead dove do not eat’, and being shocked and dismayed to find a dead dove inside.

Edgar Wright made it plain throughout the press tour for this film that the entire premise, the raison d’être, was to set badass car chases and action sequences to the tempo and rhythm of the soundtrack. It’s the conceit he built the film around.

Going back to my days as a creative writing student, one of the first, and most important things we were taught is: “Don’t critique a story based on whether or not you like it. Critique it based on identifying what it’s trying to do, and assessing how well it’s succeeding in achieving those aims.” Critiquing a piece of art is difficult, if not impossible, to do “objectively”, but this approach is one of the best ways to approach a work with helpful intent.

Now, in that spirit, I do have a critique of Baby Driver – but it’s not the same one KJB has. In fact, it’s the opposite: Baby Driver does not push its premise far enough.

Of the car chases and shootouts set to music, the first one is by far the strongest – the most tightly shot and composed, the most flawlessly synchronized with the music, and the most electrifying to watch. (This reflects a structural problem a *lot* of contemporary action movies have, in terms of putting their best action beats too early – but that’s a whole other blog post.)

I’ve watched Baby Driver a couple of times, and each time I’m struck at how the second half of the film fails to deliver on the promise of the first half. Like every other element of the story, action sequences should follow a rising action – each one should have higher stakes, more impressive stunts, more interesting obstacles or structure.

However, the car chases and stunts in the second half of Baby Driver, while still feeling fun and technically impressive, kind of drop the premise of being set to the music altogether? So they take out the thing that made the movie special, and what one is left with is a perfectly competent, but not exceptional car chase sequence. Which doesn’t really fulfil the promise of the movie’s premise (to borrow a phrase from Save the Cat). I think if the car sequences in Baby Driver were able to match and exceed the energy of the opening fifteen minutes, it would be one of the best car action films of all time. In fact, for Baby Driver to truly achieve the promise of what it sets out to achieve, it should almost be an action musical, a la Sondheim, with every minute scored to pop music and every motion within the frame, every edit, synchornized to those songs. Now, would that be incredibly difficult? Absolutely. But it’s sort of what the premise demands, and maybe the film’s single biggest failing is that it chickens out of its own premise halfway through.

The point being, it’s not helpful to critique a film (or a song, a story, a video game, a comic book) for being something it’s not trying to be. It’s vastly more helpful to try and find ways for it to more successfully achieve what it is trying to achieve.