The quest for validation propels Driver
Ken Polsjek lived his life with a well-earned chip on his shoulder. Abandoned by his father, brought up in poverty and likely struggling with an undiagnosed learning disability, the cross-eyed young man was bullied and ostracized, desperate to find a place where he belonged. Fortune shone on him when he entered the world of car mechanics which led him to become a stunt driver. Taking the name Ken Carter, the Mad Canadian toiled in obscurity during the heyday of Evel Knievel, jumping cars over myriad long rows of objects, truly defying death during an era in which safety regulations were few and far between. The spotlight he found himself in might have been a bit dim, but the sense of acceptance he found nourished him in ways he’d never experienced before.
Michael Dowse’s The Stunt Driver is an endearing, reverential look at Polsjek’s later years, a time in which he faced a crossroads in his career which ended up taking over his life. With a career best performance from Jay Burachel in the title role, the film’s brisk pacing and the intriguing nature of this largely unknown story make for an engaging experience, a film that captivates from start to finish, due in large part to the sympathetic nature of its subject.
Knowing he needs to separate himself from fellow stunt drivers and trying to emerge from Knievel’s shadow, Carter concocts the idea of jumping a rocket car across the St. Lawrence River from Morrisburg, Ontario, to Ogden Island, New York. A distance of a little over a mile, it’s obvious to everyone this is an impossible feat. Yet, Carter assures everyone he can pull it off, that is, if he has the right equipment.
Enter American automotive engineer Dick Keller (Ed Helms). Having built a car similar to what Carter needs, the stunt driver asks, begs and cajoles him into constructing another capable of this astounding feat. More out of a desire to protect the driver than his belief this stunt is even possible Keller agrees to help.
Based on the documentary The Devil at Your Heels, Dowse distills all of the information regarding Polsjek into a concise portrait, all the while ensuring the many people who enter his life are distinctly drawn as well. The titular character’s girlfriend Gloria (Laurence Leboeuf), documentary filmmaker Bob Fortier (Joe Cobden), hanger-on Danny Lafortune (Marc Beaupre), ruthless businessman Bill Wilkins (Dan Bakkedahl) and Knievel himself (Ben Foster) compose a murderer’s row of supporting characters, each making as distinctive an impact on the film as they each did on Carter’s life. Whenever one of them is introduced, the movie gets a little boost, our interest growing a bit more to see just how each will impact our hero’s life and the pursuit of his dreams.
The difficulties surrounding the stunt is its own drama, intriguing in its own right. The building of the massive ramp is problematic up to the day of the jump, while the car itself requires constant modification with no guarantees it will perform when needed. Permits and permissions are hard to come by while the promotion of the event becomes a nightmare all its own.
And how all of this impacts Carter is the crux of the film. A man riddled with insecurities, constantly seeking validation, the three years that pass from conception to completion of the jump takes its toll. One moment awash with bravado, the next paralyzed with fear, the man is a walking contradiction (he is a stunt driver with no driver’s license!), the two personae he’s adapted, Polsjek and Carter, constantly at war. This complex role allows Baruchel to shine and he makes the most of it. He never delivers a false note in his portrayal of this damaged man, struggling to be the hero he’s always wanted to be. It’s a poignant turn that grounds the movie, never allowing us to forget its humanistic spirit.
That most viewers are unaware of Carter’s exploits works to the film’s advantage. How the stunt turns out and its aftermath is wholly unexpected yet, in retrospect, you realize this endeavor couldn’t have ended any other way. While the stunt and its execution may draw in some viewers, it’s the portrayal of this common man looking for his place in the sun that gives Driver its heart. In Theaters.
Harper’s directors can’t get out of their own way
There’s no doubting the ambition, or imagined ambition, at play in Tom Dean and Mac Eldridge’s Charlie Harper. The directors are more than eager to display their filmmaking chops in this modern love story, a palpable eagerness evident in their approach, as if they’ve discovered a new technique in cinematic storytelling. Their naivete is initially charming, but soon wears off as this predictable tale of love found and lost plays out. However, the two leads help make the movie somewhat bearable as does a heartfelt conclusion that speaks to what the film might have been had Dean and Eldridge adopted a less is more approach.
Dual flashbacks of a sort are used to regale the viewer about this particular pair of star-crossed lovers. Just who Charlie (Nick Robinson) and Harper (Emelia Jones) are telling their stories to is initially a mystery, as is just how this story is to progress. While the later relates an incident late in their relationship, the former begins his account with a much earlier encounter. Wouldn’t you know it, Dean and Eldridge are employing a non-linear approach! And, get this, they are using different aspect ratios, film stock and digital footage to represent the different eras of the lovers’ relationship! Groundbreaking stuff to be sure!
You’ll have to excuse my obvious level of snark but while directors may employ a variety of methods to create their films, viewers should never be aware of them. They should be subtly applied and seem to grow organically from the story. As soon as any filmmaker tips their hand by calling attention to themselves or their approach, the illusion is broken.
Fortunately, Robinson and Jones succeed in bringing some life to their characters, which goes a long way toward our dealing with the rather obvious nature of the story. Having met while he was a teacher’s aide in her high school English class, the pair go through the initial, infatuation period, the getting to know you phase, the “I’m-having-second-thoughts” stage and the “this relationship is at a crossroads” chapter. But, of course, we see the various aspects of the affair in topsy-turvy order, the future coming before the past, the ending telegraphed before the crisis.
Robinson is very good, giving a convincing and at times, touching performance as he goes back and forth between Charlie’s sense of bravado and his feelings of inadequacy. The doubt the actor conveys with his eyes, cuts right through the artifice, his pain palatable and relatable. Though, at times, some of Charlie’s actions come off as selfish and callous, Robinson’s ability to constantly but subtly remind us of the damage he’s dealing with keeps us in his corner. Jones is his equal, the actress fully realizing the character’s optimism and playfulness. Whether it be her career, life, hobbies or Charlie, Harper brings a sense of passion and zeal in pursuit of them all, the actress creating a strong yet vulnerable woman we can’t help but admire.
Had Dean and Eldridge told the story in a traditional linear approach the emotional impact of the film would have been far greater. Experiencing the relationship as it played out, being their step-by-step through their highs and lows would have resulted in a vicarious emotional investment that would have yielded a truly moving response. The film’s final scene, a genuinely poignant moment thanks to the fine work of the two leads, speaks to what the film could have been. During that scene, I was moved. During the rest, I was distracted. Charlie Harper has heart; it’s just difficult to keep track of and identify it at times. In Theaters.
This article appears in September 24-30, 2026.
