Film Review: The Striking Intimacy of “Drive My Car”

Ryusuke Hamaguchi has become a recent filmmaker to watch

I still need to explore more of his work, but his recent outings showcased an eye for tackling uncomfortable and challenging relationships. My first exposure to him was Asako I & II, followed by Wife of a Spy, which he co-wrote with Kiyoshi Kurosawa (both of which I’ve reviewed in the past). Both films deal with distrust, underlying anxiety, and people struggling to understand what they want from relationships. In Hamaguchi’s latest film, Drive My Car, he further explores the complexities of relationships through the lens of regret and loss.

The film focuses on Yūsuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima), a prominent playwright and director. One night after a canceled trip, he catches his wife, Oto (Reika Kirishima), having an affair with Kōji Takatsuki (Masaki Okada), a young TV actor transitioning into theater. Instead of confronting Oto, he says nothing and lives his life as if nothing happened. Suddenly, Oto passes away, and when he’s asked to put on a show for a festival in Hiroshima, Takatsuki steps up to audition. All the while, Kafuku builds a budding friendship with his driver, Misaki Watari (Tōko Miura).

The setup makes the film seem like you’re in for some steamy, soap opera-type drama. In the beginning, it does feel like that, especially in the more erotic scenes Oto has sex with Kafuku and tells stories leading up to her climax. The film shows how unique and strong their connection is, how Kafuku loves Oto and emotionally needs her as an artist. However, as you dig deeper, you find more intimate layers to the drama, particularly regarding communication. Throughout the story, we see more about how Kafuku and other characters connect with people, whether it’s through sex, art, driving, or even learning new languages. However, the challenges come into play when characters get so wrapped up in their styles of communication, they lose or ignore the ability to connect. These issues lead to fear, even aggression at times, and that’s where the heart of the drama comes in. As the characters open up diving deeper into the play, you see how they confront their anxieties and carry over their newfound vulnerability into the real world. It feels like watching a therapy session, and the patients are slowly opening up. It’s mesmerizing to see, and I loved it.

The film is 3 hours long, which initially got me nervous, but Hamaguchi manages his time perfectly. Rather than get caught up in dead space or unnecessary long takes, Hamaguchi perfectly paces the film to build up Kafuku’s relationship with his wife and gives the supporting characters time to breathe. The supporting characters’ stories contribute to Kafuku’s growth and build on the themes of the film. With the realistic and natural character writing and compelling drama, I didn’t feel the film’s length at all. I could’ve spent more time with these characters, I would love to see a series of shorts just focusing on each side character.

All the actors in the cast deliver multi-layered performances. Ryusuke Hamaguchi makes you feel every conflicting emotion as Kafuku. Simultaneously feeling regret, anger, passion, and humor, Hamaguchi dives headfirst into his role. He knows how to foster empathy while also showing tremendous strength and experience. What keeps him from getting so lost in his emotions that he becomes annoying is the bluntness of Misaki Watari, who plays off him greatly. Miura plays Watari bluntly, with a streak of curiosity coupled with confidence and a dry sense of humor to make her engaging. Masaki Okada’s performance as Takatsuki is intriguing, as he has to walk the fine line of superficiality and depth without being a cartoon. He succeeds through a surprisingly subdued performance, which is unusual for this type of character. At times, you can see how frustrated he is at just how empty and superficial he is, but at the same time, he’s figured out a way he can connect with people, and he’s trying to make it work. Plus, even during his calmer moments, you can tell something is bubbling under the surface, we just don’t know what it is yet.

Drive My Car is an epic heart-pounding drama that will move you in ways you don’t expect. Thanks to its well-rounded characters, the emotions are as grand as the film’s scale while still feeling grounded. The film never falls into melodrama, and the emotional conflicts these characters experience feel raw, with earned pathos. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I loved this film tremendously.

Drive My Car is now playing in select theaters.