Driving Miss Daisy (1989)

A cheap, uncinematic, saccharine, patronising, lazy waltz through the relationship between a rich elderly white lady and the black chauffeur her son foists upon her against her stubbornness. Morgan Freeman’s chauffeur puts up with her rudeness and berating of him for enough years that they become best friends by the time twenty-five years have passed. Those years pass in such a confusing manner, as the film’s ambling episodic structure does little to delineate the passage of time and the development of the central relationship.

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The two leads embody their stereotypes with gusto, but looking at the context the film was released in, it seems ridiculously reductive and outdated. ‘Wealthy white employer thinks hectored black employee is not that bad after all’ is not progressive, and it certainly isn’t heartwarming. The conceit of the film having it portray racism as something of the past is just nauseatingly congratulatory, and the film around that conceit is so thin, cheap-looking, and slapped-together that the only thing of note here are the leads, performing well in roles that don’t deserve it. One and half cans of salmon, and an unused air conditioner.

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