Driven

Well, I’ll be jiggered—Sly Stallone and director Renny Harlin have kicked down with a multiplex rarity, a popcorn movie that delivers everything promised in the previews and more. Granted, all that really means is that Driven unfolds like an extended commercial for itself, but in this case that’s actually a good thing. The key here is keeping the focus on what truly matters—white-knuckle racing action set to a pounding hard-rock soundtrack, with occasional pit stops to further the obligatory love triangle between the defending champ-een, his estranged squeeze, and the up-and-coming Young Turk. Surprisingly enough, Sly (who wrote the screenplay) hovers about in the background for the most part, content to serve as track Zen-master, offering up aphorisms on love and racing when the need arises. With such monumentally silly moments as an extended pedal-to-the-metal race through the streets of downtown Chicago, what’s not to like? Best of all, every 15 minutes or so there’s a time-out for lovingly detailed slo-mo, high-speed crack-ups—which is pretty much what the thrill of the sport is all about, right? Not exactly fine cinema by any means, but definitely above-par adrenaline-pumped entertainment.