Movie Review: Edgar Wright drifts out of comedy and into the crime-musical bliss of Baby Driver

In Edgar Wright’s exhilarating genre pastiche Baby Driver, lanes of traffic become dance floors for swerving vehicles, gunshots ring out like bebop punctuation, and even the tough-guy patter has a musical quality, a rat-a-tat rhythm. Wright, the director of Shaun Of The Dead, Hot Fuzz, and a couple other peerless laugh riots, has crammed a jukebox musical under the hood of a gearhead crime caper. His clever hook: The movie’s hero, an underworld wheelman played by Ansel Elgort, has a lifelong case of tinnitus, and he drowns out the high-pitched whine by flooding his damaged eardrums with music, a constant stream of good vibrations piped in from the candy-colored iPods he keeps in his pockets.

Wright has always had a movie like this in him, and not just because he’s been dreaming about it since the ’90s. Up until now, the filmmaker has used his supreme technical …

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