<Ryûsuke Hamaguchi’s Drive My Car is a thoughtful and enigmatic character drama, based on a short story by celebrated author Haruki Murakami.
Yûsuke Kafuku (Hidetoshi Nishijima) is a successful theatre director, married to TV executive Oto (Reika Kirishima). They share a complex, creative relationship. One afternoon, Yûsuke returns home unexpectedly and discovers Oto having an affair with a young actor, Koji Takatsuki (Masaki Okada), but he does not say a word.
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Yûsuke loves to drive his car, a red Saab, and run lines on his way to work, playing against scenes that Oto has recorded for him on cassette. It is during one of these rehearsals that Yûsuke is involved in a small accident. Although unharmed, at the hospital he learns that he has glaucoma, threatening the sight in one eye. Not long thereafter, a tragic event disrupts their life forever.
Two years later, Yûsuke accepts a residency at a theatre in Hiroshima to stage a production of Uncle Vanya. The theatre assigns him a driver, Misaki (Tôko Miura), and although initially reluctant, he agrees. The two gradually form a bond. Yûsuke’s plays are highly regarded and known for being multilingual productions. The unconventional approach sees actors perform in different languages, including Japanese, Mandarin, Korean, English and Korean Sign Language, while a screen projects subtitles above them. Although expected to perform himself, Yûsuke unexpectedly casts Koji in the title role.
At nearly three hours long, Drive My Car is a slow-paced yet gripping drama, concerned more with who these people are than what happens to them. It is similar to Chang-dong Lee’s Burning (Beoning) in some respects, in that it extrapolates a Murakami short story to marathon length, giving such focus to character that the relationships feel genuine and never contrived.
Drive My Car is in no hurry to make its point. The title sequence, for example, does not begin until around 40 minutes into the movie. Yet it is engrossing to watch Yûsuke and Misaki slowly become friends and discover what they have in common, even if part of that connection is loss and a shared sense of regret. We might be tempted to think of their relationship as somehow paternal. The movie is not subtle when pointing out that Misaki is the same age as Yûsuke’s daughter would have been had she survived pneumonia. But Yûsuke does not really behave in a parental manner. Their dynamic is one of growing respect and friendship, with each learning from the other rather than either becoming a substitute for the family the other has lost.
Although it is not necessary to be familiar with Anton Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya to enjoy Drive My Car, those familiar with the Russian play may be able to draw richer comparisons and recognise common themes. Nevertheless, Yûsuke’s multilingual theatre productions make for fascinating viewing. His only direction early on is for his actors to read the text, familiarising themselves with it to such an intense degree that they are able to interact on stage without knowing the other’s language.
That approach bleeds into Yûsuke’s real life too, as he and Misaki are invited to dinner at his assistant’s house. Although the conversations are translated, the scene mirrors the rehearsal dynamics, with three different languages moving naturally around the table.
Drive My Car is one of those intriguing dramas that takes a slow and, at times, almost vague direction. Its languidly captivating storytelling is difficult to convey in either this review or the film’s trailer. But by the end, you realise that the patient approach, anchored by excellent performances from Nishijima and Miura, has been entirely worthwhile. Drive My Car has quietly enthralled you all along.
