Movie Monday: Film Recommendations By Our Contributors
Rush depicts a bitter rivalry between two legendary Formula One superstars; British driver James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth) and Austrian defending champion Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl) as they compete to see who is the fastest in the 1976 season.
Like any film based on a true story, Rush features some exaggerations and fictionalisations (to the extent that even the central conceit is brought into question, as Hunt and Lauda were quite good friends) but I kind of want to skirt around that. In my opinion—although I stress this is a case-by-case basis—you can allow a narrative film some discrepancy. It’s trying to take the mess of reality and structure it into a comprehensible story. If it stays true to the idea and the spirit of these events, it gets a pass in my book.
The spirit of both the historical rivalry and this film is the idea that these two men drove (pun intended) each other to be better, in both their professional and their personal lives. Ignoring the subject matter for a second is almost Shakespearian in nature. That’s Macbeth wanting to be king, that’s Hamlet wanting to kill Claudius. The primary point is an exploration of human motivation.
And that’s the genius of The Crown scribe Peter Morgan’s script. Because the humans at the centre of Rush are so well-drawn, with clear motivations, flaws, and lives beyond their professions, we care about cars going round and round for ninety minutes until one is declared a winner. I came away from the film wanting to watch an F1 race, despite having no personal interest in motorsport.
Hemsworth, despite an occasional slip on the accent (although maybe just as a Brit I’m very aware of movie stars trying to do our voice), is endlessly charming. You get exactly why this man was a celebrity in his own right, with real excitement and danger to his personality. James Hunt lived on the edge, and that can be dazzling to see realised.
But beyond that, the actor gives depth to this persona, showing a man who never quite feels complete. That final thing that would make him whole is just out of reach, and he fills that void with cars, sex, and alcohol. Hunt has an addictive personality, and it’s heartbreaking to see how that seeps into marriages, friendships and his own personal health.
However, the stand-out performance comes from Daniel Brühl. Having found him creepy yet charming as Nazi soldier-turned-filmstar in Inglourious Basterds, it was a shock to find him doing almost a role reversal in Rush. Niki Lauda is not supposed to be an attractive man. Throughout the film everyone remarks on what an utter fun-sponge he is, focused on statistics and strategy, constantly being referred to as rodent-like or “ratty.”
It’s a true testament to Brühl’s acting ability that he sinks into the part, owning a confidence in his own beliefs to the extent that it irritates all around him. Yet again, like with Hemsworth’s performance, we go deeper and look at exactly what makes a man like that tick. Despite being immaturely ignored by others, there is a fierce intelligence behind those eyes that is not to be messed with.
Although Brühl is the more surprising and impressive performance, the reason the film works as a whole is because of the dynamic between the two. Hunt and Lauda are like two sides of a coin, the daredevil and the analyst, the great irony being that you need both to win. The argumentative scenes between the two never get stale because they push the story forward. One will get under the other’s skin, and so each will better themselves to never experience that again. It’s expert pacing based entirely on character decisions.
Brilliantly, the script never paints either man as an outright hero or villain. It would be so easy to show the movie-star playing British racing legend Hunt as the hero, versus antagonistic uptight Austrian Lauda—especially as this is about a race, and so historically there’s a very clear winner or loser. This film is better than that.
We dive deep into both men’s psychology, the film allowing equal space to empathise with both. It does this and also completes their journeys in a way that feels satisfying, and I don’t think people appreciate just how hard that is to do. They essentially complete each other, Hunt teaching Lauda to enjoy it while it lasts, and Lauda teaching Hunt that sometimes it’s important to look before you leap.
It’s not all sunshine and rainbows. I would probably argue this is a better-written film than it is directed. Ron Howard is a competent director, and certainly, the driving scenes have a down-and-dirty feel to them, making the crashes feel impactful and frightening. Why he then feels the need to apply the same approach to two people talking in a room in the quieter moments is a bit beyond me.
Despite being set in the 1970s, there’s also not much in the cinematography to capture the period, feeling sometimes like we’re watching a modern car commercial rather than a historical film. However, all these nit-picks are nicely plastered over by a banging score from Hans Zimmer, with memorable themes and melodies rather than just the soundscapes he’s become accustomed to. It might be in the title, but this film is unavoidably a rush.
Why then, if I feel passionately enough to write this sprawling article (and fill it with some rubbish puns) do I think people don’t remember this film as fondly as I do? Well, I think maybe there is a disconnect between general movie audiences and subject matter. With the arrival of more awards-worthy (but not as good) films like Ford v Ferrari, dealing with similar ideas around motorsport, Rush has just kind of disappeared into the pop-culture ether.
Mark Kermode likes to quote Roger Ebert’s idea that at its best, cinema is a machine that generates empathy. I think Rush is a testament to that idea. If you push yourself to look beyond the bare story of two men sitting behind the wheels of racing cars, there’s a deeply human story about ambition and what drives one to success. It’s exciting and well-acted and, in my opinion, might be one of the best films ever written.
Words by Ed Foster
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