(...) shall we &/ why not, buy a goddam big car/ drive he sd, for/ Christ's sake, look/ out where yr going. (I Know A Man by Robert Creeley). This poem is recited at the beginning of the film; I guess Nicholson was trying for some cultural reference that escaped me. The times were rough on those who sought meaning in the arts; there were too many filmmakers, painters, writers who were more interested in reshaping their consciousness than communicating with the world.I give this 4/10 because of Karen Black, because of the basketball sequences that are quite well shot, because Black and Tepper have an entertaining argument in the supermarket. The rest of the movie doesn't interest me in any way. It will go into the bargain bin of film history along with Head, Alice's Restaurant, The Strawberry Statement, Zabriskie Point and many more once lauded, now forgotten efforts.

I attended college in the late Sixties, and I wanted to chime in with Titov and others who says that this is one of only a handful of movies that captures the time as lived experience rather than journalistic cliché. I can think of only three or four others: "Baby, It's You"; "Dog Fight"; and to some extent Milos Forman's first American film, "Taking Off." Not one of these films is available on Netflix. I saw each when it came out. "Taking Off" was revived pretty often for three or four years, so there must have been others who liked it as much as I did. The others I haven't seen since they were first in theaters, so I can'be sure of my present reaction. But for 40 years I've remembered the last line of "Drive, He Said," which says something.

Poorly developed and fragmented movie about a confused college basketball player with a host of predictably militant and/or cynically unhappy acquaintances characteristic of 1960s academia where the film is set. I'm not sure whether we are supposed to like or even care about the characters or not, but in any event I didn't feel much of either for any of them. Jack Nicholson directed this movie with a taste for profanity and nudity. I guess he thought he was being provocative and progressively mirroring the changing cultural mores of the time. He would have fared better by putting his energy into developing characterization and refining the script that he co-wrote instead. All in all a disappointing movie which left me with a feeling of indifference about it.

Fashionably fragmented, yet infuriatingly half-realized character-study, an examination of the different personalities of two college roommates: a talented but undisciplined star basketball player, and a pot-smoking, womanizing rabble-rouser. We never learn why these young men are friends. They may share confusions about the world and their places in it, but they don't seem to have anything else in common. Making his directorial debut, Jack Nicholson--who also co-wrote the screenplay with Jeremy Larner, based upon Larner's book--doesn't introduce us to the characters with any clarity, nor he does shape the scenes to help us identify with anyone on the screen. There are some very decent performances here (particularly from newcomer William Tepper in the central role), but most of the picture is unformed (perhaps intentionally), sketchy or unsure. Bruce Dern plays the hard-driving basketball coach, Karen Black is the older, married lady Tepper is having an affair with, and Michael Margotta is Tepper's wayward friend (in an off-putting, over-the-top performance). Nicholson fails to set up the sequences with any particular flavor, preferring (I assume) to let the character interaction dominate the film's tone; his script is no help either, and as a result it is unclear whom we're supposed to sympathize with. Small, random moments do work (a supermarket fight between Tepper and Black, Dern visiting Tepper in his dorm-room, all of the scenes set on the court), however the entire third act of the picture is an excruciating mess. Hoping to juxtapose an all-important b-ball game with a sexual assault, Nicholson shows no style at his craft (nor does he earn points for chutzpah, as his staging of these events is squashy and ugly). When a director goes out of his way to humiliate his actors, one has to question his motives in doing so. Perhaps if "Drive, He Said" ultimately made some sort of powerful statement in the bargain, audiences could forgive the filmmaker for his lapses in judgment and taste. Unfortunately, the perplexing closer is as dumbfounding as is much of the rest of the movie. *1/2 from ****