A dazzling story of F1, rivalry, respect & cheating death.

Rating: 8/10 (5 September 2013)

Those who have seen the trailer will know that Rush is the 'Formula 1 film'. The presence of Ron Howard's and Chris Hemsworth's names above the title may put some bums on seats but the fact of it being a film about motor racing will undoubtedly ostracize some potential viewers.
So stop right there. Rush is not a movie about motor racing for speed fans any more than Titanic was about sailing for merchant seamen. Rush is a superbly shot, directed, edited and performed film that transcends the sport of motor racing, just as the principal protagonists themselves did almost forty years ago.
The rivalry between F1 drivers James Hunt (Hemsworth) and Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl) is common knowledge. Just a couple of minutes trawling through Google's gifts will tell you how many championships each driver won, how they met, how they sparred, how they lived and (nearly) died Rush isn't a film that tells you their story. Rush is the film that takes you into their world and shows you how that story unfolded in all its fast, crazy, riotous, dazzling, cynical, brash excess. By the end you may still not want to be an F1 driver or even watch a grand prix, but you sure as hell will wish you could have been there for at least some of the 70s.
Howard has provided us with a mixed bag of films over the years with schmaltzy, flicks (A Beautiful Mind), thoughtful biopics (Frost/Nixon), compelling dramas (Apollo 13) and utter twaddle (Angels and Demons). So which category would Rush fall into? The tension Howard creates is ridiculous. Pistons pump, colours blur, the scream of engines deafen us. The editing is so tight it feels as though something will snap. The anticipation prickles the skin and, though we already know what and when, it is almost too much for us to watch it unfold. Technically, Rush verges on exquisite. The digital creation blends flawlessly with the live action and the skids, tumbles, crashes and explosions are horrifying.
But it isn't just with the speed and madness around the track where Howard guides perfectly. The hospital scenes when Lauda is treated are almost grotesque. We find ourselves shying away from the visuals, involuntarily grimacing at Lauda's agony even when he demands more pain in order to drive him towards recovery and revenge.
Rush boasts one of the finest film scores of the year so far with Hans Zimmer proving why he is among the busiest composers in Hollywood. It's not that the score that makes the film, but it enhances it beautifully, adding emotional colour to the startling visuals to magnify the tension.
The joint leads are on impeccable form. Hemsworth portrays Hunt as the playboy we wish we could be (or bed) and his charisma doesn't ooze, it gushes. He is arrogant, cocksure, charming and handsome. He makes it obvious why men wanted Hunt's life and so many women welcomed him into theirs. It is a confident, full performance from Hemsworth that marks him out yet again as an actor with a certain chameleon-like quality and undeniable star power. Immediately we like Hunt but as 123 minutes rush by, he evolves into a flawed man we admire but ultimately decide we don't really want to be and, in some ways, pity. It's a fine performance that engages us on every level.
When Brühl's (The Edukators, Inglorious Basterds) Lauda strides onto the screen, it is with purpose, his Austrian directness and confidence taken as conceit and arrogance. He does not suffer fools (or almost anyone else) whether they are subordinates, rivals or the men paying for his drive. Supremely confident to the exclusion of social niceties, the Lauda we observe puts our backs up immediately but, just as the Hunt on screen evolves, so, too, does Lauda and by the film's end our allegiance has wavered. It is a sensitive performance from Brühl and his understanding of the man he portrays and clear admiration for him infects us thoroughly.
Some of the dialogue is lumpy, there are numerous liberties taken with the truth (though not to the extent that U571 completely rewrote history!) and much is glossed over. Howard has perhaps tried too hard to appeal to a mass audience by focusing on the principal women in the drivers' lives, notably Hunt's wife, Suzy (Olivia Wilde) and Brühl's, Marlene (Alexandra Maria Lara). In Marlene's case, she is relatively impactful on her husband's life, suffering through his accident with him. In Suzy's case, however, though she was influential on a period of Hunt's career, it is difficult to see her as anything other than a bystander in his life and yet Howard sees fit to return to her though she is far from his thoughts.
These are minor quibbles that make Rush a very good film instead of a 'great'. Nevertheless, my companion for the film who has no interest in motor racing and less knowledge gave a simple summary: "Excellent."
Me? I'm a fair weather F1 fan. If there is a realistic hope of Button, Hamilton and Di Resta winning or there's been enough hype, I'm there. Otherwise it's Formula what? But, as I wrote, Rush transcends the sport. I was gripped throughout, I gritted my teeth, I gasped, clenched my buttocks and willed the drivers to the finish, on the track, in the hospital and in life.
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