I didn't really love Drive, the existential, arty (Gosling's protagonist has no name) thriller, even though I would love more arty, existential thrillers in my life. Especially ones that ape the rhythms and visuals of 1980s cinema, other moody pieces like Manhunter and Mona Lisa. So why didn't I love it? I don't really know right now. The first two thirds of the film were very enjoyable with Gosling (always good) as a detached professional, a driver who splits his working hours between film work, mechanic work, and getaway car driving. But the film shifts toward tenderness and ironically (intentionally so) toward brutal violence. Maybe it was trying too hard. Still, go see it if you enjoy well-crafted old-school action sequences and can stomach the sight of a man's head being stomped into a pulp.