Ron Howard has directed a $50
million dollar banal, predictably romanticized, Hollywood film, RUSH, based on a “true story” of a renowned male rivalry
in Formula One racing lore. Ironically the movie was so “formulaic” that I
found it difficult not to forecast the dialogue and the accompanying
cinematography as events materialized. The heavens open up with a blazing sun
at the moment of victory; the grinding and spewing of white smoke from the
turbocharged engines emit their groans and roar at the moment of orgasm;
supercharged cars are like their supercharged drivers – sleek and fast – as
fast as they can be pushed before splintering apart. Bombast, bluster, swagger
and disdain seem to characterize the protagonist’s behavior toward one another
– both are “assholes” – a term they often utter to one another sotto voce and I
agree.
This loud, ear-shattering,
tumultuous movie is set during the 1976 Formula One racing season focusing on
the competition between a handsome blonde British playboy James Hunt (played by
Chris Hemsworth) who is the intoxicating, wild Dionysius to the analytical,
methodical Appolonian Austrian driver, the “darker” Niki Lauda (Daniel Bruhl.)
The psychological collision between two ambitious men who are willing to risk
death in their pursuit of the world championship – racing in grand prix after
grand prix – from country to country, delivers some dizzying visual excitement.
Yet the film despite its big budget cast of characters, special effects, and
pounding musical soundtrack lacks any emotive drama. I am left unmoved.
RUSH gives us a touch of the biographical history of James
Hunt and Niki Lauder; each of them born into wealthy aristocratic households,
and single-mindedly pursuing their dream of racing in opposition to familial
pressure. Ron Howard does not attempt to delve any deeper into their psyches
except to bifurcate them as attractive vs. unattractive, reckless vs.
deliberate, and loyal vs. unfaithful. There are lovers and wives in the movie
but they are basically accessories to the men who love their cars, speed, and
have eyes only for one another. The intense competition between adversaries,
involving the risk of crashing and burning, creates a subliminal, sentimental
attachment between foes. There is a connection that only they can understand
having competed in the same fierce battleground.
Oddly what I found most
compelling about RUSH was
capturing a glimpse of a sub-culture that involves machines and the engineering
that goes into making these potential “burning infernos.” The physical
vulnerability of the participants is ever-present as is the thin line between
adroitness, skill and chance. Once strapped into their Ferraris or McLarens the
ace drivers are flying on the racetrack tempting death and incineration, and
like life there are no safe passages.