Driven (Cert PG)

by MATTHEW BOND, Mail on Sunday

Drivel, sorry, Driven is Sylvester Stallone in a motor-racing movie. Think 'Rocky on wheels' and you're nearly there. Just soup it up with noise and girls in tight tops.

Everyone's got a silly name in this film: there's Kip, Til, Carl, Luke (who's a girl - it's short for Lucretia) and, of course, Sly.

Stallone, starring in a film wot he wrote, for the first time since the seminal Cliffhanger of 1993, plays the old racing ace (and, boy, do I mean old) called out of retirement to help his old pal's racing team guide their young protege to the World Championship.

The old pal is Burt Reynolds, who miraculously looks younger than he used to. Unfortunately this means he can't move his face any more and acts like someone who has applied a face-pack before getting on a rollercoaster.

Reynolds is a Frank Williams type, stuck in a wheelchair, so he's tough and dedicated to winning.

Everyone else must know the Prefab Sprout song about life being so much more than cars and girls, which is a pity, because it means they get out of the cars and start talking.

This rather spoils things: I much preferred the screech of engines to the growl of Stallone saying: 'You don't know who you are any more!'

Triangular love interest is provided by Estella Warren, stuck on the Planet Of The Apes when last I saw her, but now back on earth to wave her hair around and show what she can really do in a swimsuit.

It says everything that this is what I shall remember most about Driven.

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