Driving Lessons

More often than not, films are billed to be something they just aren’t. Marketers seem to grab hold of a popular curve in taste and relentlessly dress the film’s advertising up in it for no good reason other than: MONEY. A recent trend that is still hovering around the movie lists is the slightly jaded coming-of-age drama, a tag Driving Lessons has pinned all over it.

At first, every little factor of the film is pointing to it. Shy, awkward and lonely teenager? Check. Parents who adopt the ruling style of Hitler? Check. Someone to show the kid the ropes and get him ready for life? Check. The film is even named after a rites-of-passage, for crying out loud. Yet Driving Lesson is in fact a sneaky variation on the coming-of-age drama; a character development drama, which could be disappointing for some or a relief for others.

For me, it was a relief.

Driving Lessons has many thumbs-up qualities. Humour, for one, is something the film is absolutely drenched in, be it from a snappy script and perfect delievery ("You see an attractive woman, living on her own, you wonder: is she a roaring lesbian?") or quirky visual touches (Picture Rupert Grint dressed up as a Eucalyptus tree standing in the middle of a stage with ‘Jesus’ next to him), Driving Lessons is continuously amusing. Wonderful actors, too, add to the film's charm; Julie Walters’s portrayal of an eccentric but desperately lonely actress is flawless and Rupert Grint as bumbling teenage boy Ben is, well, himself.

Yet Driving Lessons is not perfect. While the first three-quarters of the film manage to keep the humour and pace speeding smoothly along, when the ending draws near the sentimental gush begins, spoiling what had previously been a superb script. Brock needs to take note: less can be more, and the "I love you, son"/"I love you, dad" sequence was not needed for viewers to understand the importance of the moment between parent and child.

Like a long journey, what starts off all sweeties and sing-a-longs eventually turns into numb bums and pins-and-needles, with the ending an uncomfortable trudge that unfortunately signals this car has run out of gas.