Locke (2013)

This is an odd choice, I know. There are no car chases, no tricked-out rides, no explosions. There is only one man, Ivan Locke, driving his BMW X5 down the highway for 80 minutes in real time. And yet, it's one of the few films that truly gets the relationship between a person and their car.
Here, the car isn't just an accessory; it's the entire stage. It’s a bubble of glass and steel, sealing the protagonist off from the outside world as his life completely unravels over the speakerphone. The choice of a BMW is no accident; it represents the order, precision, and control that Locke is so desperately trying to cling to. It's German engineering at its finest: reliable, efficient, almost clinical. As he drives south, the car is the one constant, the only thing that performs flawlessly while everything else in his life implodes.
The film is a testament to the automobile as a confessional, a mobile office, and a sanctuary. We never see the engine or touch the car’s body, but we feel the machine's importance as the very shell that allows a man to face his worst mistakes head-on.
It’s a masterclass in how a car can be central to a story without the plot ever leaving the driver's seat.