Positive or negative, films can do things that make me think about them for hours or even days after I’ve seen them. Remembering the flow of scenes, something cool or unexpected, or just how damn terrible a film was; they can make a mark.
I expected Baby Driver to make marks; tyre tracks across my mind left by sharp dialogue and Ken Block style Impreza antics. An hour later however I’d moved on. There were no marks! Despite there being things I liked it wasn’t enough. I only remembered it all when I was hunting down an image to add to the top of this post.
There isn’t anything bad, no massive holes or anything badly misjudged for me to point out. The music ties into things onscreen well and it has a great cast. The end result just doesn’t do much for me. It all seemed pretty superficial and I wasn’t wowed by anything.
In Hot Fuzz and Scott Pilgrim Edgar Wright has given me two of my all-time favourite films. They hit such a sweet-spot for me – in their tone and how well crafted they are – that it would be unreasonable to expect more of the same. But the bar has been set high, and Baby Driver doesn’t get near it.