Maybe I’m wrong, but I get the distinct impression that I’m
the only person in the free world who is actually going to give “Getaway” a
positive review. We’re not talking about a great work of cinema here, and in
many ways this is a terrible, terrible movie. I completely recognize this fact,
but that doesn’t mean that this is a film without certain charms, and, taken on
its own terms, this is a successful endeavor. Produced on the cheap by After
Dark Films, most known for their low-to-no budget “films to die for,” “Getaway”
is essentially the action equivalent of their horror fare. The only reason this
didn’t go straight to video is because the only three real cast members are
Ethan Hawke, Selena Gomez, and John Voight.
The plot is thinner than tissue paper. Former stock car
racer turned wheel man turned reformed wheel man, Brent Magna (Hawke)—which is
an exploitation movie hero name if I’ve ever heard one—has to drive a tricked
out muscle car very, very fast in order to save his kidnapped wife Leanne (Rebecca
Budig) from a villain (Voight) who is literally faceless. Along the way he
picks up Gomez when she tries to carjack him. That’s it. She doesn’t even have
a name. “Getaway” is the kind of movie where characters have names like the
Voice, the Man, the Kid. It’s not trying to be a throwback
to 70s car crime movies like “Vanishing Point” and “Two-Lane Blacktop,” like
movies like “Death Proof,” it is that kind of movie. There
are no winks and nudges here. Aside from some modern technology, you could have
seen this as the back end of a double feature at a drive-in in 1975. It also
has the same strengths and weaknesses inherent in those films.
“Getaway” is a movie that has a concept and set up, and
little else. There are no characters to prop up the farce of a story. The whole
movie is Brent downshifting and scowling while Gomez alternates between trying
to be tough, chastising Brent for his driving, and screaming, sometimes all at
once. You come to recognize that her acting skills haven’t progressed much
beyond her time on the Disney Channel. Two things you can appreciate, however,
are that the film never tries to push any sort of awkward love connection
between the leads, and Gomez is never forced into a “get sexy” moment where she
has to push out her boobs and flirt with some sleazy guy to get an important
bit of information. This is a movie about cars driving fast, plain and simple.
A vast majority of the movie takes place inside of a car. Brent
and Gomez blast around urban Bulgaria—though Gomez seems legitimately surprised
that people speak anything but English—and Voight calls them, giving them
directions and tasks to complete. He orders them to drive through crowded
public parks (Brent barrels his badass Shelby Snake through no less than three
parks throughout the course of the film), with the instructions to crash into
everything he can. Here lies the biggest hang up with “Getaway.” I don’t want
to ruin anything for you should you decide to see this film, but the villain
has zero motivation, absolutely none. You expect there to be some actual reason
that he’s fucking with Brent, but there is not. He really is
an empty threat. There are shots of his mouth and shots of his eyes—also, he
appears to be doing all of his dastardly deeds in the middle of an all-night
Christmas party—but you never see his entire face. Director Courtney Solomon
attempts to have this pay off, but the shitty twist ending is exactly that, a
shitty twist ending.
Voight keeps tabs on his playthings via a number of wireless
cameras he installed on the car, which Solomon uses to weird effect. On one
hand, this gives parts of the movie, especially early chase scenes, an
unfortunate found footage feel. The action can be shaky and jarring. Luckily,
this attempt at stylization falls by the wayside in short order, but even when
it is employed, it doesn’t bother me as much as this kind of visual stunt
usually does. Once, near the end, this even pays off in a big way, during what
turns into a sweet chase filmed from the point of view of Brent’s Cobra. In a single,
continuous shot, the stunt men—illegally mind you—tear through the early
morning Bulgarian streets, on the very brink of disaster. Solomon puts you
right there, inches away from chaos, going balls out at 90 miles an hour.
You’re not going to find a more exciting single shot anywhere. It’s phenomenal,
and alone is almost the ticket price (as long as you see a matinee).
The best part of “Getaway,” and the one real reason to see
the damn thin, is obviously the chase scenes. That’s what you’re there for, and
that’s what you get. The film subscribes to the first rule of suspense writing
as laid out by Brian Garfield (the author of the book “Death Wish” is based
on): “start with action; explain it later.” From the opening sequence, where
the entire plot is laid out bare in front of you, “Getaway” almost never stops.
When it does, and Hawke and Gomez are forced to talk in more than a sentence at
a time, the film takes a precipitous downward turn. But these moments are few
and far between, and mercifully brief when they do pop up, so you can get back
to them wrecking car after car after car—they totaled 130 in all. Every few
seconds an automobile rolls or flips or jumps something or takes a flight of
stairs. The effects are all practical, and you get a visceral thump as
motorcycles plow into walls and cars pummel each other on the streets. “Getaway”
is like the anti-“Fast and the Furious.”
“Getaway” has everything you want out of a movie like this:
a handsome hero with a clenched jaw, a nice looking sidekick, fast cars out the
ass, and one ticking clock after another. You’re not going to see award-worthy
performances, or be wowed by an intricate plot—I can’t stress enough how little
story you’ll actually find here—but if you have an appreciation for specific
niche action reminiscent of a bygone era, or just want to see cars drive real
fast and crash into each other, this is a movie you may enjoy.
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