Rush

If you saw Rush without knowing who the director was it's probably a a fair bet to say you wouldn't have piped up that you thought Ron Howard was calling the shots. That's no smear on Howard's solid (if unspectacular) career, but you wouldn't expect such nail-biting racing scenes from a man who is more used to giving us lightweight comedies and thought provoking dramas. However, in hindsight, Howard was probably the perfect choice after all, for himself and screenplay writer Peter Morgan employ the same M.O that proved such a success the last time they paired up for Frost / Nixon, i.e. taking a famous historical event and using dramatic license in terms of the accuracy of events and dialogue in order to produce something thrilling for the modern day cinema going audience. So though Howard's film (which mainly tells the story of the battle for the 1976 Formula One drivers championship between James Hunt and Niki Lauda) takes some wrong turns which may upset petrol heads in respect of its authentic correctness, the end result is pure entertainment and frankly, isn't that what movies are meant to be all about? Despite the blistering racing scenes, the film is actually more of a character study of each man and their relationship with each other and their own mortalities. Playing Hunt is Chris Hemsworth and, a couple of thriller roles aside, this is the first time he has portrayed a fully dramatic part. Great he is too, nailing Hunt's cut glass accent and charm with the ladies, whilst always hinting that there is a layer of insecurity behind the mask of bravado. Daniel Bruhl (as Lauda) is even better. Wearing a dental appliance to help capture Lauda's "ratty" look, it's a career best performance from Bruhl capturing Lauda's mannerisms and cold mechanical outlook on life. However, the two main stars lead the way to such an extent that other characters get lost by the track side, especially the leading female roles in the film. Plus, if you want some stereotypes (eccentric Englishmen, corrupt Italians et al) they're all dotted throughout. Just be thankful Howard wisely jettisoned a cameo from Russell Crowe as Richard Burton. In terms of it's actual physical look, though F1 has always been about the glitz and the glamour, Howard shoots with filtered lenses to give the impression of a time which wasn't so much the glory days, more a grim decade of stagflation in the western world in which one of the most popular sports meant death was a daily hazard for the drivers, all in the form of entertainment for the masses. However no one is forced at gun point to be a racing driver and Morgan's script keenly points out that these men are obsessed with being number one whatever the risks. Howard perfectly captures this moment in a scene in which Bruhl squeezes into his racing helmet only weeks after suffering the horrific burns that would scar him forever. Overall, though the racing / life metaphor is a bit too forced, this is a hugely enjoyable film that should appeal to a much wider audience than just people who can tell a driveshaft from a crankshaft (no, me neither). Rating: 8/10.