Tim Minear's Drive
Co-created and executive produced by television veteran Tim Minear, the series is in the same vein as other shows he has worked on, most notably Angel, Firefly and Wonderfalls. Although those series were, respectively, about a vampire-with-a-soul, a group of space-scavengers living 500 years in the future, and a Niagara Falls retail clerk who suddenly hears voices from inanimate objects, at the core of each was a deeper theme—namely, the search for redemption and meaning in a world that at times seems meaningless. And in the case of Drive, how far is one willing to go to achieve it?
Take Alex Tully (Nathan Fillion), for instance, the husband forced into the race to find his missing wife. A landscaper from Hastings, Nebraska, he receives an anonymous call on a hidden cell phone telling him to drive to Key West, Florida. Believing it has to do with his spouse, he leaps into his pick-up truck and takes off. Instead of finding his wife, however, he receives vague insinuations, verbal and otherwise, hinting that the only way he will ever see his beloved again is to compete in the mysterious race.
Far-fetched? A little, but that is one of the fascinating things about being a television fan these days: watching series creators take simplistic ideas with limited potential that border on the far-fetched—a plane crashes on a deserted island (Lost), ordinary people suddenly find themselves with supernatural powers (Heroes), and now an illegal cross-country race—and find ways to sustain an intelligent, gripping story. The island, it turns out, is no ordinary place and the castaways all have secrets of their own; a mysterious organization is aware of these new-found heroes and perform track-and-tag missions on them for unknown reasons. And as for Drive, we find that the participants, as well as their anonymous sponsors, have secrets and agendas beyond merely winning (or rewarding) thirty-two million dollars.
As the episodes progress, these “secret” pieces of the various characters’ lives slowly get revealed. In the case of Alex Tully, in a surprise-twist on par with any show on television, we discover that he once led the life of a “wheel man” for a murderous cadre of bank robbers. Here is a man, suddenly confronted by a treacherous past that he thought he had escaped, truly seeking redemption—not only is the life of his missing wife in jeopardy, but so his own “new” life of simple Nebraska landscaper. In order to win this race, will he need to “become” the old Alex Tully, a formidable getaway driver capable of breaking the law in order to succeed? Can he again leave this past behind? Will he be able to save his wife without losing himself in the process?
In this sense, Drive is Angel without the vampires, Firefly without the spaceships and Wonderfalls without the talking wax lion. Angel, a vampire responsible for who-knows how many deaths before being cursed with a soul, strives to make up for those past sins by performing acts of penance while being all-too-aware that his “dark” side is never far behind. Captain Malcolm Reynolds (likewise portrayed by Fillion) of Firefly longs for a simpler life away from the reaches of a controlling government that he can never truly escape. And the “voices” from Wonderfalls act as a conscious to Jaye Tyler in an attempt to make her confront her own perpetual shortcomings.
Many of the other character in Drive likewise have similarities with the aforementioned characters, especially in regards to the search for redemption in their lives. Wendy Patrakas (Melanie Lynskey) wants more for her newly born son than her abusive marriage can provide. And Winston Salazar (Kevin Alejandro) wants to escape his criminal past as well as being the unwanted, illegitimate son of a politician father.
Astrophysicist John Trimble (Dylan Baker), meanwhile, is trying to find meaning in his existence besides the clinical research of his career. Told he has only a year to live, he takes his teenage daughter (Emma Stone) on the race in an effort to connect with her and experience life more fully. This theme likewise resonates throughout Angel (deeper, meaningful relationships is what having a soul is about, after all), Firefly (it’s the close, family-like relationship of the crew on Serenity that keeps them afloat) and Wonderfalls (Jaye is a perennial loner suddenly forced to interact and get involved with the lives of total strangers).
Drive is no copycat, however, but simply a television series that offers a little bit of everything—appealing characters on a symbolic journey for meaning and redemption; a cross-country road-race capable of inducing high-octane adrenaline rushes; intrigue and mystery filled with unexpected twists; and finally, great writing, for it would not be a Tim Minear series without sharp dialogue that vacillates between dark humor and eloquent wit.
For example, when Alex Tully confronts the “face” of the race, liaison Mr. Bright (Charles Martin Smith), about his kidnapped wife by threatening to call the authorities, Bright responds, “Oh, I wouldn’t recommend it. Involving the police would be grounds for immediate disqualification.” Tully then threatens physical harm instead. “Beating me to death,” replies Bright in the same matter-of-fact tone, “would also be grounds for immediate disqualification.”
Firefly, Wonderfalls and even Angel all met with “disqualification,” canceled from the television landscape sooner than they deserved. In the case of Drive, it lasted a mere four episodes (with an additional two later made available online). Which is a shame, because this was one series that truly promised to be one hell of a ride.
(This article originally was published in Flak Magazine.)
Anthony Letizia (April 24, 2007)
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