Real-Life Hostage Situation The Accidental Getaway Driver Gets Badly Rerouted

Paul Kix’s story of an elderly cab driver in L.A.’s Little Saigon who gets hijacked and kidnapped by three escaped convicts races like it’s running out of inches before it hits the margin of the magazine. Its perspective whirls around from the driver’s home life to the daring prison break. It’s riveting, grabbing you with its made-for-the-movies premise, and doesn’t dare lose you. Filmmaker Sing J. Lee and his co-writer Christopher Chen take a different route, one Waze certainly wouldn’t recommend. The Accidental Getaway Driver focuses entirely on the growing relationship between the driver, Long (Hiep Tran Nghia) and one of his captors, fellow Vietnamese-American Tây (Dustin Nguyen). Its dedication to Long’s point-of-view is admirable, but Lee’s filmmaking hits the brakes like a student driver, sacrificing what made the framing narrative enticing in the first place.
Really, Lee’s creative strength—and the movie he seems to have wanted to make—only arrives at the very end, when the flashy premise fades and the true heart of the matter comes out. It’s when the thing that initially gets Long involved in Tây, Aden (Dali Benssalah) and Eddie (Phi Vu)’s scheme (a shared culture and language), is allowed to blossom into what both were desperately searching for. The Accidental Getaway Driver wants to be a quiet, contemplative drama between a man caught in the middle of making all the wrong choices and a man already at the end of the road, suffering the consequences from a few bad calls. It wants to focus on their commonalities, and how they directly lead to a position where one could help the other differ his path.
In the small, spare, stripped-down moments like these, you can see why Lee took this approach. Nguyen and Nghia are never better than when having quiet conversations that say very little out loud. Lee gives them space, shooting deliberately whether it’s a lingering long look across a lawn, or an extreme close-up highlighting Nghia’s years of wrinkled-in experience.
But these moments don’t make up most of The Accidental Getaway Driver. No, they are few and far between, as rare and as vital as the other style Lee occasionally leaps into. Interspersed are Long’s flashbacks and dreams, dipped into without much to-do, symbolizing the wandering and active mind of an old man. One looking back, or simply thrust back, into a life already lived—used up so that he already seems finished. Undead. While these sequences aren’t much more sophisticated than the lackluster kidnapping narrative, they’re more ambitious and engaging, and give a sense of care towards an older, complex interiority.