Of
the many different genres, I believe suspense thrillers to be
the most compatible with the art of cinema. I realize that
aficionados of other genres would disagree, but comedy can be
effective on stage as well as screen, as is often the case with
dramas. But there's something different about thrillers. They
seem to require singularly cinematic techniques in order to make
themselves effective. Hitchcock understood it, and subsequently
set the bar with regards to successful suspense filmmaking. Let
me put it this way: if a filmmaker can piece together a
tightly-wound thriller, then he or she has the necessary skills
to tackle any other genre. When it comes to the art of
filmmaking, a good thriller is a cinematic schematic. (Boy, try
saying that five times fast.)
With
a resume that includes "Red Rock West," "The Last
Seduction," and "Unforgettable," director John
Dahl has already established himself as a cinema auteur. And
while his latest movie "Joyride" doesn't stretch
beyond the standard crackerjack thriller formula, it does play
itself up in splendid, spine-tingling fashion.
The
premise, a nod to Steven Spielberg's "Duel," involves
a cross-country trip, two likable but reckless brothers, an
eye-catching female companion, a CB radio, and a sinister truck
driver who remains shielded from audience view behind the cold,
ocular-like windows of his rig. He has a creepy voice (not
unlike that of actor Ted Levine) and identifies himself over the
radio as Rusty Nail.
The
trip is the idea of college student Lewis Thomas ("The Fast
and the Furious"'s Paul Walker), who at the last second
surrenders his plane ticket home after a phone conversation with
his longtime friend Venna (Leelee Sobieski). She suggests they
travel on the road together, and considering that he's had a
crush on her since he's known her, the decision to dump the
flight and purchase an affordable used car was a relatively
simple one. However, his romantic intentions are placed on the
back burner when he has to stop along the way and bail his
troubled older brother, Fuller (Steve Zahn) out of jail before
meeting up with Venna.
Fuller
takes it upon himself to have a CB radio installed in his
brother's newly purchased automobile. One night while flipping
through its arcane channels, they come across the mysterious
voice of an obviously lonely trucker. A master of mischief,
Fuller has an idea: why not impersonate a female's voice,
suggest a rendezvous with the man ... oh, say at the hotel in
which they are staying for the night ... but in an adjacent
room, of course. Then sit back, and get a rather big laugh.
However, things don't go according to plan, as their perceived
harmless joke carries some horrifying repercussions. They soon
discover they've tricked the wrong man, and their road trip
turns into a deadly cat-and-mouse chase with Rusty Nail hot on
their tail, taunting them all the way.
The
phrase "style over substance" carries a distinct
negative connotation, but it's a compliment here because Dahl's
style is so effective; it elevates the formulaic story to
another level. Questions of logic certainly could be asked, but
they really needn't be as Dahl is having way too much fun with
his premise to try and make sense of it. Sure, one might wonder
exactly how Rusty Nail could plot such elaborate schemes (like
precision-perfect sequential messages on strategically located
road signs), but why bother? If a thriller like this is wise
enough to embrace its own absurdity (a good example: the scene
where the trucker orders Lewis and Fuller to walk into a diner
completely naked and order six cheesburgers), why distance
yourself from it? Dahl keeps the intensity at such a high level
that the movie's moments of preposterousness never outweigh the
story's ability to deliver genuine thrills at full throttle.
Added
to the masterful direction are very credible performances. Steve
Zahn's ability to shift from comic showboating to sudden bouts
of sheer terror work in perfect sync to the movie's tone. Paul
Walker has a screen presence similar to Keanu Reeves--he's
immensely likable without having to work at it. Leelee Sobieski
also has some good scenes, particularly when she tries
sympathizing with Rusty Nail and explaining to him that people
can do cruel things without realizing the implications involved.
"Joyride" is an even-handed concoction of lunacy and terror, and
its genius is that it doesn't try to balance the separate
elements, but rather pumps both up to such a deliriously potent
degree. It rattled my veins and put a smile on my face. Maybe
it's an odd fetish of mine, but I love it when movies do that.
