It's like Drive but with a worse car and more guns.
For years Netflix has been cranking out innovative TV shows, but its original film offerings have been at best a mixed bag. There have been a couple standouts (such as I Don't Feel at Home in This World Anymore and Okja), yet far too often a “Netflix Original” movie means a disjointed mess of nonsense that’s streaming because no one would pay to see it in theaters (looking at you Bright and The Cloverfield Paradox). Between these extremes, though, Netflix has crafted some under-the-radar genre films that may not break the mold but are a satisfying stream on a Sunday night. One of those recent offerings is Wheelman, a well-oiled entry into that oddly specific crime subgenre of “Stoic Getaway Driver Caught in a Crime Gone Awry” films.
While movies like Drive and Baby Driver feature amped up action and tricked out cars, Wheelman is stripped-down film with a sensible sedan to match. The driver (Frank Grillo) even complains about the mismatched trunk color when he’s handed the keys. Wheelman’s job is to chauffer two robbers, one of whom (Shea Whigham) chats inanely—“my girlfriend thinks I’m too old to rock a hawk”—until Wheelman says, “I don’t chit-chat. Unless it’s about the job.” As laconic as Wheelman wants to be, he’s forced to talk when a mysterious caller orders him to flee the scene of the robbery, leaving the criminals behind for the police. The crime goes from sideways to upside down as Wheelman speeds around the dark, rain-slicked roads with a bag of stolen cash he isn’t sure where to drop off.
When Wheelman isn’t trying to figure out if he’s being double, triple, or quadruple crossed, he’s arguing with his daughter and her boyfriend: “Ryan, I want to talk to you about being in my home alone with my daughter.” The banal parenting troubles in the midst of a tense thriller plot aren’t just there for comic relief, and tie in satisfyingly to the final act.
Jeremy Rush’s directorial debut is a largely by-the-numbers crime film with one exception: It takes place entirely in the car. The film opens from the POV of the nondescript car with smudged windows in a dark garage. Then the camera stays in the sedan, with the plot taking place over angry phone calls and action sequences seen through the windshield. It’s a smart and economical way to make a crime film, adding claustrophobia to the noir story. A film that takes place entirely in a car necessarily rests on the performance of the driver, and Frank Grillo, who’s mostly known for bit roles like Crossbones in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, turns in a solidly gruff performance that matches the gritty diesel-soaked plot.