The surRealist Review: Drive Angry

I’ve spent a long time listening to the Internet reviewers attached to the ThatGuyWithTheGlasses site. One thing that some of my preferred producers seem to agree on is the glory that is Nic Cage. Ten years ago I couldn’t see it. But now? Now I can properly see the wonder that is Nic Cage. And ‘Drive Angry’ is an excellent example of what I’d like to start thinking of as Cage-sploitation (Nic-sploitation maybe?).

SPOILERS!

Nic Cage plays Nic Cage, but they keep calling him Milton for some reason. And he opens the movie by literally driving a spiffy car right the hell out of… well… Hell. Yes. He physically breaks out of Hell to rain down vengeance on the redneck Satanists who killed his daughter and plan to unleash Hell on Earth by sacrificing his granddaughter to the Dark One.

Armed with a quadruple barrel “God-Killer” gun, a pretty, take no guff, former diner waitress, and the ability to kill half a dozen men while having indifferent sex with an overly excitable bimbo waitress, Nic Cage brutally murders his way through gullible, ignorant, drooling genetic dead-ends while being nothing but awesome.

On his tail the entire time is the Accountant, an agent from Hell intent on tracking down Cage, played by William Fichtner. And besides Cage, he’s part of the other reason this is a bloody fun movie. His line delivery makes the dialogue geek in me quiver and shake in glee.

In the end, it’s just Nic Cage gloriously throttling cultists and their insane, Southern charm-oozing boss, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Make no mistake: This is pure, mindless exploitative fun. Big explosions, over the top action, gore, breasts, sex, people doing impossible things, and nothing in sight of a deep, meaningful thought or message. It’s a ride. Grab yourself a nice cold beverage, a snack, and just let yourself be entertained.