If released today, Drive could pass for Rush Hour 4. Coming a couple of years before the Jackie Chan/Chris Tucker smash, Drive is Rush Hour’s prototype, but with far better martial arts and someone who knows how to direct them.
A baby-faced Mark Dacascos stars as a karate expert who comes from Hong Kong to the United States. He’s been implanted with super-soldier technology that he wants to keep out of Communist China’s hands, and he’s headed for Los Angeles to sell the goods for a cool $5 million. As happens with such things, he’s followed by a gaggle of goons with an arsenal of automatic weapons. To escape from them and the police early in the film, he takes a hostage in a bar, a down-on-his-luck Kadeem Hardison (from TV’s A Different World), who serves as his reluctant partner and comic foil.
Together, they go on the run toward L.A., encountering trouble all along the way, as well as some unsolicited help from a horny motel employee (Brittany Murphy), then with her layers of baby fat and doing her caffeinated/ADD/retard thing.
Drive is so much fun that not even Hardison or Murphy — neither a reliable presence — can kill it. Directed by Steve Wang (The Guyver, Kung-Fu Rascals), this is one of those rare occasions where all the creative elements (some known for not having much creativity) simply click.
Dacascos is completely impressive, demonstrating some damned fast kung-fu moves. On the basis of this, I’m surprised his profile isn’t higher. Although strictly an American film, this has some of the most exciting and innovative martial-arts sequences you’ll see, from an assault in a tiny motel room to the climactic showdown in a space-themed bar. It’s fast, funny and full of both great little moments and big action payoffs. —Rod Lott
A thin story emerges: In one major metropolitan area, survivors live in a well-fortressed downtown area surrounded by rivers, barbed wire, electric fences and armed guards to keep the undead out. The rich among them live in a palatial skyscraper filled with fine dining, shopping and housing, all owned by the wealthy Dennis Hopper. He’s hired armies to roam the streets for the sole purpose of killing zombies. 
The chase isn’t as interesting as the film’s Tim Burton-esque bleakness and pervading sense of dark humor, both welcome elements to what could have been sheer kiddie junk (as the rather sly opening parodies, with a crudely animated “The Littlest Elf” cartoon). And I’d wager that the closing credits may be the most amazing cinema has ever seen. 
And not only that, but the authorities — led by Newhouse (Laurence Olivier — pardon me, Sir Laurence Olivier) — think about giving up on the search, because there’s no evidence Bunny ever existed. Or at least none that Ann and her brother, Steven (Keir Dullea of 
In the wraparound, Misty Mundae practically plays herself: a Z-grade movie actress. She’s fired by her producers, who then have to screen other films to find a new starlet to fill her void. Cue the stories, one involving aliens in a junkyard; the other, skanks undergoing a scientific experiment (that’s where most of the T&A lay, FYI).