In the absorbing Daddio, Dakota Johnson plays a woman who gets into a cab at JFK for the final leg of her trip to Midtown Manhattan. The driver (Sean Penn) engages her in chitchat. She is amused to find herself with one of those philosopher cabbies. He likes that she is a New Yorker, not a tourist, and that she doesn’t ignore him in favor of her smartphone.
He fancies himself an acute judge of people, and proves it by correctly guessing an important fact about her current relationship. As he probes about her personal life, she probes back, and soon they are revealing intimate secrets to each other.
It’s possible that a conversation can cause you to rethink your life – even if it with someone you’ve never met and will never see again. That relatively instant and profound bonding is the core of Daddio.
Their conversation is limited by the duration of the cab ride, but the 40-minute trip is extended when traffic is stopped to clear a major accident up ahead. Daddio is a story told in real time – a story of two people talking inside a car – and I was captivated the entire time. Daddio is the first feature for writer-director Christy Hall, creator of TV’s I Am Not OK with This.
It’s a good story, but Daddio is so good because the performances are superb. Their faces, in closeup and extreme closeup. tell us what they’re not saying – whether they are guarded, offended, surprised, hurt, annoyed, intrigued. Their eyes mostly meet in the rear view mirror.
Dakota Johnson is a very able actor, and has done excellent work lately – The Lost Daughter, Cha Cha Real Smooth and here in Daddio.
Penn’s cabbie is devilish, and enjoys being a provocateur. It’s been a long time (his Spicoli in Fast Times at Ridgemont High) since I’ve thought of Sean Penn as funny, but he sure is funny here. And, of course, Penn is unsurpassed in embodying profound sadness.
It’s really surprising how two actors in a car can make for such an engrossing experience. Daddio, with its penetrating humanity, is thoughtful and entertaining.
