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| Rush Directed by Ron Howard Two Stars |
By Jonathan Fisher
Ron Howard’s Rush, a sports drama focusing on the famous rivalry in the 1970s between F1 drivers Niki Lauda and James Hunt, is a shiny product that clearly has high production values and an experienced hand behind the camera. Most of the technical aspects of this movie are first rate, including the performances of the two leads by Daniel Bruhl (who, so many years ago, was wonderful in Goodbye Lenin!) and Chris Hemsworth. There are driving sequences aplenty, and for the most part they’re easy to follow and enjoyable, with an added dramatic twist in that we know that F1 racing in the 1970s was far more dangerous than it is today, with the prospect of serious accident or death hanging over the competitors every time they sat behind the wheel.
The personal story firmly focuses on the rivalry between Lauda and Hunt, the to-ing and fro-ing of the standings in the lead-up to the final race of the 1976 world championship, and the dramatic turns of fate for both men during that season. A little is made of the racers’ personal lives, although Ron Howard doesn’t expend much energy trying to make his characters complex – the conflict is painted as one between a stereotypical jock and a stereotypical nerd. We are subjected to multiple scenes of Hunt partying and cavorting with beautiful ladies, usually having sex with them mere minutes after their jaw drops upon making eye contact with him. On Lauda’s side, we see many examples of his ingenuity with cars, his thinly veiled arrogance and his fury at being called puerile names by his rival. Some attention – although not nearly enough as this is clearly meant to form the emotional crux of the film – is paid to Lauda’s relationship with his wife, although we don’t get much from these scenes except for a vague suggestion of the dynamics between the two. The relationship doesn’t get much time to breathe amongst those racing sequences, which in themselves feel condensed and rushed due to just how many spectacular races these two competed in that season.
The interplay between Hunt and Lauda is mildly entertaining but quite predictable. Wes Mantooth from Anchorman provides what really is a fine summation of their dynamic in this film: “From deep down in my stomach, with every inch of me, I pure, straight, hate you. But goddammit do I respect you!
The two have plenty of scenes together and usually their conversations consist of subtle jibes about the other’s choice of lifestyle and/or brain capacity, followed by Hunt concluding the conversation by referring to Lauda as a rat or other kind of vermin. We get a window into the, ahem, complicated nature of their relationship when Hunt physically assaults a journalist (apparently with no legal repercussions) after said journalist (spoiler!) repeatedly questions Lauda about his relationship with his wife following a disfiguring accident. While this scene is supposed to demonstrate a nobility about Hunt’s character hitherto unseen, he comes across as even more of a Neolithic thug who uses fists instead of words to solve his problems. And such is one of the biggest barriers to enjoying Rush on its own terms – both of the leads are inherently unlikable. Lauda is too arrogant and small-minded to be our hero, and Hunt is a thug and a sleaze-ball.
As for what Rush looks like, Howard employs a range of tricks to make this movie look and feel like it is set in the 1970s. The costumes and hair accurately depict the time and characters, while Howard saturates his images to give it that distinct look of film from the ‘70s. Visually it looks great, as most of his movies do.
Rush offers us an opportunity to enjoy Ron Howard’s technical expertise. The film looks good, the performances generally are of a high standard, but there are plenty of pieces missing here. The rivalry between Lauda and Hunt was one of the greatest in any sport, but in Rush it’s used sloppily as a narrative device. We don’t get any hint of humanity from these two outside of their deeds that are required to give the film dramatic tension. And what little humanity we get to glimpse, isn’t worth cheering for.
Ron Howard’s Rush, a sports drama focusing on the famous rivalry in the 1970s between F1 drivers Niki Lauda and James Hunt, is a shiny product that clearly has high production values and an experienced hand behind the camera. Most of the technical aspects of this movie are first rate, including the performances of the two leads by Daniel Bruhl (who, so many years ago, was wonderful in Goodbye Lenin!) and Chris Hemsworth. There are driving sequences aplenty, and for the most part they’re easy to follow and enjoyable, with an added dramatic twist in that we know that F1 racing in the 1970s was far more dangerous than it is today, with the prospect of serious accident or death hanging over the competitors every time they sat behind the wheel.
The personal story firmly focuses on the rivalry between Lauda and Hunt, the to-ing and fro-ing of the standings in the lead-up to the final race of the 1976 world championship, and the dramatic turns of fate for both men during that season. A little is made of the racers’ personal lives, although Ron Howard doesn’t expend much energy trying to make his characters complex – the conflict is painted as one between a stereotypical jock and a stereotypical nerd. We are subjected to multiple scenes of Hunt partying and cavorting with beautiful ladies, usually having sex with them mere minutes after their jaw drops upon making eye contact with him. On Lauda’s side, we see many examples of his ingenuity with cars, his thinly veiled arrogance and his fury at being called puerile names by his rival. Some attention – although not nearly enough as this is clearly meant to form the emotional crux of the film – is paid to Lauda’s relationship with his wife, although we don’t get much from these scenes except for a vague suggestion of the dynamics between the two. The relationship doesn’t get much time to breathe amongst those racing sequences, which in themselves feel condensed and rushed due to just how many spectacular races these two competed in that season.
The interplay between Hunt and Lauda is mildly entertaining but quite predictable. Wes Mantooth from Anchorman provides what really is a fine summation of their dynamic in this film: “From deep down in my stomach, with every inch of me, I pure, straight, hate you. But goddammit do I respect you!
The two have plenty of scenes together and usually their conversations consist of subtle jibes about the other’s choice of lifestyle and/or brain capacity, followed by Hunt concluding the conversation by referring to Lauda as a rat or other kind of vermin. We get a window into the, ahem, complicated nature of their relationship when Hunt physically assaults a journalist (apparently with no legal repercussions) after said journalist (spoiler!) repeatedly questions Lauda about his relationship with his wife following a disfiguring accident. While this scene is supposed to demonstrate a nobility about Hunt’s character hitherto unseen, he comes across as even more of a Neolithic thug who uses fists instead of words to solve his problems. And such is one of the biggest barriers to enjoying Rush on its own terms – both of the leads are inherently unlikable. Lauda is too arrogant and small-minded to be our hero, and Hunt is a thug and a sleaze-ball.
As for what Rush looks like, Howard employs a range of tricks to make this movie look and feel like it is set in the 1970s. The costumes and hair accurately depict the time and characters, while Howard saturates his images to give it that distinct look of film from the ‘70s. Visually it looks great, as most of his movies do.
Rush offers us an opportunity to enjoy Ron Howard’s technical expertise. The film looks good, the performances generally are of a high standard, but there are plenty of pieces missing here. The rivalry between Lauda and Hunt was one of the greatest in any sport, but in Rush it’s used sloppily as a narrative device. We don’t get any hint of humanity from these two outside of their deeds that are required to give the film dramatic tension. And what little humanity we get to glimpse, isn’t worth cheering for.
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