Baby Driver

Unless crime movies have been lying to us all these years, the getaway driver is perhaps the coolest crook of them all, although one suspects the cat burglar may provide some solid competition. From 1978's The Driver, which starred Ryan O'Neal as a wheelman with ice water in his veins through to 2011's Drive, which starred Ryan Gosling as a wheelman with ice water in his veins, moviegoers have come to realise two things: firstly, even if you could make a movie about a getaway driver without the word 'drive' in the title or an actor named Ryan in the lead, why would you?; and, secondly, it's easy to cut getaway drivers a little slack.

After all, they're not pointing a gun in anyone's face or pinching some poor unfortunate's life savings. They're just helping the people who do split the scene of the crime as quickly as possible. Even if you're only getting your hands a little bit dirty, though, you're still part of the problem, as Edgar Wright's zesty, zippy new action-comedy-romance Baby Driver demonstrates.

The UK writer-director behind genre-bending cult-favourite comedies like Shaun Of The Dead and Hot Fuzz has made a name for himself with a style that walks the fine line between anarchic and precise. He fills his frames with elaborate, entertaining bits of business that can feel spur-of-the-moment but are clearly the work of someone with a sharp sense for what's pleasing to the eye and ear.

And it's the latter upon which Wright is lavishing the most attention with Baby Driver, the story of a sensitive young wheelman who choreographs his high-speed getaways to the tunes playing through his ever-present earbuds. Oh, and based on the way he handles himself on the highway he also has ice water in his veins. Who knew?

But Baby, played by The Fault In Our Stars' Ansel Elgort, is no hard-case crim. Orphaned as a boy, he's a good kid who made the mistake of stealing from underworld boss Doc (Kevin Spacey, revelling in efficient, white-collar menace). Now he must chauffeur trigger-happy types like Buddy (Jon Hamm, vividly giving off a dangerous nothing-to-lose vibe), Darling (a don't-mess-with-me Eiza Gonzalez) and Bats (Jamie Foxx, a scary loose cannon) as they rob banks and armoured vehicles on Doc's behalf.

Baby's debt to Doc is almost paid in full, and just in time too - when he meets diner waitress Debora (Lily James, doing a wonderful job of breathing life into an underwritten role), it's love at first sight. But the last time Baby has to drive may be his riskiest getaway yet, pitting him against both the crooks and the cops.

That's a fairly typical crime-caper plot, but Wright's slick twist is to make it, to all intents and purposes, a musical. The dialogue has the snap and tempo of pop-song lyrics. The camerawork bounces, glides, swirls and twirls. And the action - mainly the car chases but also the shootouts and one frantic footrace - synchs up to the eclectic sounds of Wright's carefully curated soundtrack of songs.

Mostly it works a treat, although this gimmick loses a little of its novelty as the film progresses. And it starts to splutter and stall in a final act that outstays its welcome. Prior to that, however, it's so nimble, agile and audacious that it's hard not to be won over by Baby Driver, thanks to Wright's showmanship and panache and leading man Elgort's fresh-faced, loose-limbed, butter-wouldn't-melt charm.