Michael Dowse, the director of the beloved Canadian underdog comedy “Goon,” returns this month with another tale of a recklessly lovable loser in Ken Carter, a stunt driver (don’t you dare call him a daredevil) in the ‘70s and ‘80s who vied for international attention with Evel Knievel. Already chronicled in a 1981 CBC documentary called “The Devil at Your Heels,” which Dowse’s film uses as inspiration, Carter is a character, a cross-eyed dreamer who believes it when he says things like “People live through us, so ya gotta live large.” Carter’s idea of living large is a record-breaking jump from Ontario to New York, spanning a mile in a rocket-powered car going 280 MPH. It would be safer to live small.
Although it doesn’t play out exactly as expected, that jump becomes the obvious climax of “The Stunt Driver,” a movie with a trunkload of love for its insane protagonist that doesn’t quite sell why this story needs to be told again due to some wheel-spinning (sorry, not sorry) in the writing and some underserved supporting characters. Jay Baruchel commits fully to this Canadian Ricky Bobby and does such strong work that he nearly sticks the landing, but that shining star in the driver’s seat almost makes what falls by the wayside of this vehicle all the more disappointing.
To be fair, the “Talladega Nights” comparison doesn’t really work because Dowse never really plays this as straight comedy. Sure, Carter may be a ridiculous person, but Dowse and Baruchel embrace his quirks instead of mocking them, which almost takes some getting used to as the film starts. Are we supposed to laugh at the guy getting hypnotized to find the root of his fears? Is Ed Helms as rocket car designer Dick Keller a comedy or drama choice? Does it matter?
It kinda does. While it’s admirable to make a genre-straddling movie about a guy driving a rocket across the Saint-Laurent river, it helps to settle on a tone, and one of the problems with “The Stunt Driver” is it never quite does that. It exists in this space between comedy and drama, a profile of an oddball that doesn’t have enough to say about what made him tick or what made him funny. He’s often just kinda there, an outspoken victim of a screenplay that goes back and forth between not only whether or not he will perform the stunt but if he should.
This bipolar screenwriting is most reflected in Gloria (Laurence Leboeuf), Ken’s supportive wife who alternates wildly from scene to scene as to whether or not her man should risk blowing up in a rocket car. She’s such an inconsistent character—and truly the only female one in the film—that it becomes a distraction wondering if she’s gonna be supportive or worried from beat to beat. It’s not a fault of the performer, but a script that too often feels content to mimic instead of portray real human beings other than Ken. There’s a difference. As for the rest of the cast, Helms has a similar function-over-person issue while Ben Foster comes in and steals a couple scenes as Knievel. His first, which ends in a near brawl with Carter, is one of the film’s highlights. History might not have allowed it, but the movie could have used more of Evel’s energy.
The most ambitious thing about “The Stunt Driver” may actually be its form. The film Dowse is making is shot widescreen while the documentary being shot within the movie that would become the CBC production is full frame. And all of it has just the right ‘70s style: the costume and production design are impressive, as is how every indoor shot appears clouded in cigarette smoke. If you’re gonna hurl yourself through the air, you might as well have some nicotine.
Despite all of the film’s narrative and tonal setbacks, there’s something captivating about the center of this film. The generally underrated Baruchel clearly understands Carter, finding a balance of fear, showmanship, and competitiveness that can be hard for actors to capture. Guys like Ken Carter don’t grow on maple trees, and Baruchel knows that without turning him into a caricature like so many other actors would have done. To say he relates to the “Mad Canadian” might be a step too far—how does anyone truly connect with someone this reckless—but he finds the truth in a role that could have been nothing but bluster. I just wish he wasn’t driving this car alone.
This review was filed from the Toronto International Film Festival. It opens on September 25, 2026.
