And both are further given an erotic gloss with 3-D that serves almost no discernible narrative purpose whatsoever, and isn't even particularly amusing in the tawdry fashion of a Piranha 3D, serving mainly to call still further attention to how languid is the violence, and how gleaming are the cars. But mostly violence and cars: the former presented by director Patrick Lussier with lingering, worshipful slow-motion, the latter in loving tracking shots that glide across the vehicles with the rapt attention but awed distance of a gentle, shy lover. It fetishises acts of brutal violence it fetishises gorgeously preserved early-70s muscle cars in an extremely distant third place, it manages, just barely, to fetishise naked women. Drive Angry is above all else a shockingly fetishistic motion picture.
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