Everything in Edgar Wright’s “Baby Driver” is set to a diverse set of music and the whole narrative moves along to the beat. It’s a crime film and, maybe even a thriller, with a captivating love story but the movie is presented almost like a musical.
The lead character, called Baby (played with absolute precision by Ansel Elgort), seems completely disassociated with the world around him. But Baby has a medical condition that he can alleviate by constantly listening to music on his iPod.
The music that Baby listens to pervades each scene and dictates Baby’s movements. As we follow Baby’s story, the whole world and even the film moves to the beat of the songs.
Baby is a getaway driver for criminals. And he’s very good at it. He’s observant and clever and quick on his feet. He works for Kevin Spacey’s Doc, who plans the heists and puts him in a crew of armed robbers. But Baby is not here by choice. He’s working his way out to pay off a debt and live a normal life, especially after meeting the lovely Debora, played by the always charming Lily James. But of course nobody gets out of the business that easily.
If anything, “Baby Driver” is cool and slick. It’s full of amazing car stunts, situational comedy, moxie, and chutzpah. And the best part? It’s unapologetic about it. The film takes joy in being cool and funny because it knows it delivers.
Baby is a fascinating character, made even more watchable because Elgort completely embodies Baby’s duality. He’s a professional but he’s also a tortured soul. He shifts between awkwardness and guile with ease but without sacrificing Baby’s history, which unfolds later on in the film.
Giving Elgort so much to work with is an amazing ensemble that includes Kevin Spacey (doing what he does best), Lily James (she can brighten anyone’s day with a smile), Jon Hamm, Jamie Foxx, and Eiza Gonzales. Everyone brings their A game.
“Baby Driver” is a magnificent display of direction and editing. Scenes shift when the camera passes through a wall and time moves at a chord change.
Elgort gives the impression that everything is calculated for Baby, and Edgar Wright shows this with quick cuts to his eyes and to the world around him. The camera moves along with him in a multitude of one takes. The whole world is meticulously choreographed and Ansel Elgort is the principal dancer of this ballet. Everything is so precise and timed to the music exactly to the beat that it’s just a joy to watch this story unfold.
And when the story finds Baby in an unexpected situation, he’s forced to improvise, taken out of his musical accompaniment. As the audience, we are also taken away from the rhythm of Baby’s world. This sequence is so well orchestrated that it heightens the tension and suspense of the final act because everything was laid out so carefully at the beginning.
There is so much joy in a film like this. Every movement, every location and set design, every story element and acting choice is timed with the music. The cuts and the camera movement flow along with the songs; it feels like a modern dance piece in movie form.
It’s definitely an experience you would want to catch in a cinema with great sound. It’s a unique film that gets away with being absolutely unapologetic about its filmmaking. It’s a musical, more than a crime thriller with comedic flourishes. It’s more a fable than a cautionary tale. It’s something beyond genre. It’s probably one of the year’s best.