Daddio (2023)

Writer-director Christy Hall’s film, shot almost entirely within the confines of a NYC Yellow Cab pulls off a seemingly impossible task—keeping us interested entirely by means of a conversation that moves from the casual to the intimate. There are no chases or crashes, other than a thruway accident that brings traffic to a standstill for about half an hour. It is simply a conversation between a young woman returning to RFK Airport from a visit to her sister in Oklahoma and the friendly cab driver who picks her up. As we will see, Clark turns out to be what the writer of the Biblical book of Proverbs might have been had he been a cabdriver with 20 years of experience.

I was suspicious when Dakota Johnson was given just the name of Girlie, whereas Sean Penn’s cab driver was endowed with the name “Clark.” Upon reflection, I think this lack of a specific name might be a reflection of her personal status, it becoming evident through a textual exchange between her and her married boyfriend that she is not really her own person at that moment.

At the beginning of the ride just a few words are exchanged between Clark and Girlie because the latter is texting with her boyfriend that she has landed and is on her way home. Her paramour wants her to come to him because he is horny and wants to have sex—“see pink” he puts it. He pleads, asking her to show a picture of her privates. He even sends a photo of his erected penis, leading us to deduce that their entire relationship has been built upon sex. She continues to keep him at bay in her terse responses.

The conversation with her driver starts out with the general, including Clark’s comments about how his tips were once far more generous when fares used cash rather than credit cards. Quickly sizing her up when she turns off the small TV set in back, he observes that, “you can handle yourself.” He elicits from her that she was born in a small town in the “armpit of Oklahoma,” that her father was very distant from her, her mother a runaway, and the older sister abused her. She is surprised that he deduces she is in a relationship with a married man.  “I’m just a guy who pays attention,” he tells her.

When they are stopped by an accident, Clark rolls down the dividing window to see her directly rather than just through his rearview window. During the last half of their conversation he opens up about himself, although he is still intent on imparting advice to her. He reveals that he failed in two marriages, but remembers his first wife with special fondness. He played practical jokes on her, and he fondly remembers that she always chose to laugh over them rather than to become angry—perhaps one of the tenderest moments in the film. He advisees Girlie never to use the “L” word with a married lover because that is not what they are after. It is simply sex.

There is a lot more to their talks, though as they at last pull up to her home in mid-Manhattan, they become more pensive. Their parting is touching, the two lingering for a moment, fully aware they will never se each other again, and yet knowing that their time together will linger in their memories—maybe even leading Girlie to re-evaluate her romantic relationship that is going nowhere.

This simple story avoids the pitfall of having one or the other flirt with the other. Clark, given our experiencing Sean Penn in previous roles, especially might be expected to make such a move on a girl who has ben seeking love in the wrong place. He comes across as a man who has suffered from his mistakes and gained both wisdom and compassion from his previous life—as well as one who may have listened to a thousand passengers pour out their frustrations, boasts, and dreams from the back seat. The film’s title might refer both to Girlie’s relationship to her older lover—at least Clark suggests this at one point—but also to Clark himself, who comes on more as a father figure, like the author of Proverbs does, than as a predatory guy talking with a vulnerable girl.

The film works well through a combination of excellent writing and direction and of superb interaction between Johnson and Penn. New York at night is captured beautifully by the creative photography of Phedon Papamichael. There are two delightful wordless moments; one when Girlie smiles at a Black girl in another car glancing back at her who is waving a fish-shaped cracker as if it were swimming; the other is a quick shot of the car wreck that detained them, suggesting the unexpected fragility of life. I think I will remember this simple little film long after I have forgotten the MC blockbusters with all their CGI special effects! Let’s hope this will be just the first of Christy Hall-directed film!

This review will be in the August issue of VP along with a set of questions for reflection and/or discussion. If you have found reviews on this site helpful, please consider purchasing a subscription or individual issue in The Store.