Rush

You’ve got to hand it to Peter Morgan, the man knows how to write a good screenplay about rivalry – especially when it’s between two ambitious male figures. The Damned United centred on Brian Clough’s ill-fated obsession with eclipsing Don Revie’s achievements as Leeds United’s top manager. Frost/Nixon instead told the story of two men down on their luck, desperately trying to reinvent themselves and outsmart each other in a series of fraught TV interviews. And in Rush, the attention is on historical Formula 1 rivals James Hunt and Niki Lauda, two egocentric and fiercely competitive drivers with polar opposite characters.

Unlike Asif Kapadia’s excellent documentary Senna, there was always a risk Rush might turn out like a by the numbers biopic, one that follows the tried and tested from-rags-to-riches-to-rags-and-back-to-riches-again narrative arc. Luckily, Morgan’s script steers clear from such conventions partially thanks to its authenticity (the real Niki Lauda has already commended the film for its adherence to true facts), but mainly due to the fact that it’s fundamentally a two-hander. What makes the film even more compelling to watch is that, like the characters they play, both Daniel Brühl and Chris Hemsworth have a lot to prove to their audiences.

Hemsworth, who in the space of two years has starred in three blockbuster hits and has already garnered a vast female fanbase, is clearly keen to flex his acting muscles and show the world he’s more than just the God of Thunder or a poster on a girl’s bedroom wall. A cynical-minded viewer (or the afore-mentioned girl’s boyfriend) could argue that, as the impeccably chiselled, womanising Hunt, Chris has got little to do other than show up and let his good looks do the acting, but that would be an unfair call. He is gradually acquiring more range with each film he does and while he never truly gets under the Shunt’s skin, Hemsworth does manage to convey the requisite amount of charm and playboy bravado to do justice to the one time maverick. Some might say this is an overall superficial portrayal, but it’s hard to imagine the real James Hunt would complain about being depicted as a magnetic trouble-maker.

On the other hand Daniel Brühl, who has made a name for himself starring in European productions, probably thinks he could do with some much deserved recognition in the American film industry. That said, there’s nothing opportunistic about his approach to the role, as Brühl manages to inhabit Niki Lauda to the point of achieving something of a chameleonic resemblance to the real life Formula 1 veteran. Blunt, anti-social and analytical to the point of resembling a cold-hearted asshole, Lauda could be very easily dismissed as the villain of the picture, the hurdle Hunt needs to overcome by the end of the movie. But in Brühl’s hands, he comes off as an introverted, misunderstood figure who invests all his attention into racing quite possibly as a way to conceal his insecurities as a man. The scene in which he stands up to Hunt by trying to put an eloquent spin on his bestowed moniker, The Rat (“They have great survival instinct!”), is quite possibly the most deceptively heart-breaking you’ll see all year.

Adding further pathos to this compelling rivalry is Ron Howard’s direction of the F1 races, which are easily the most thrilling ever committed to film, as tyres screech, engines rev and water splashes in slow motion in the rain-drenched sequences. And for those who are wondering, the Nürburgring incident is recreated in all pain-inducing detail, with the make-up artists doing an impressive job at recreating Lauda’s third degree facial burns.

But perhaps what makes Howard’s film stand out is its central message, i.e. that a wise man can learn more from an enemy than a fool would from his friends. A tad cheesy, maybe? Perhaps, but when delivered as a bookend to a film this good and supported by two absorbing performances, it certainly doesn’t feel forced. A great Formula 1 film that fires on all cylinders.

4/5