Rush

Perhaps you can get into the smoothly flowing storyline and the genre-specific battle of contradictions. Yet in all honesty and humanity, I cannot do it justice, and anyone who has ever loved Formula races when it was not about strategic team laps but truly deadly entertainment will feel the same. From the first roar of the engines through the acting concert of the explosive Chris Hemsworth and the cold Daniel Brühl to a breathtaking final act filled with visual perfection and emotional richness. And if that isn't enough for a full experience, Hans Zimmer roars and the car is instantly back on the track. A track where every press of the pedal could be your last. (10/09/2013)

Ron Howard is evidently good at making biopics. Even if you don’t grow fond of Niki Lauda or James Hunt, there is still the final scene that simply launches everything a mile high. But if you’re naturally open-minded when it comes to good movies, you will definitely appreciate that the actors who portray these two characters exactly pinpoint the meaning of the term rivalry as such. Niki Lauda or James Hunt were no idiots, but they were definitely not normal, either. Whatever was between them was something that is no longer fashionable in sports today. It was mutual hatred that was supported by a great deal of respect for one another. This movie captures this perfectly. I cannot but give it a five-star rating. Niki sure must convince you of that at the end of the movie! (02/11/2014)

Is it merely a coincidence that Ron Howard did the most masterful work of his career not in Hollywood (which would surely not have allowed so many warts and broken bones protruding from the bodies of injured racers), but in an independent production put together by several smaller studios? Rush is not flawless. You will see the awakening of the two protagonists coming in the numerous circuits, the female characters are passive and serve only for decoration, some of the “deep” dialogue is there only to fill silent gaps, and the attempt at two equally valuable character studies is hindered by the fact that screenwriter Peter Morgan put substantially more work into humanising the monster (the “horror” shots of a mutilated face border on distastefulness) than making the playboy wiser. However, the doubling of narrators and the wringing of tension out of their essentially friendly rivalry (there is no actual bad guy) comprise the main draw of this otherwise generally good but not exceptional film. Two strong characters are a guarantee of sufficient dramatic material throughout the film's two-hour runtime and it is highly probable that you will be left wanting more at the end. Morgan offers enough information about the organisation of races in the 1970s to keep even a person unfamiliar with Formula One in the picture and, at the same time, is very careful not to anger fans of either Hunt or Lauda. In comparison with the similarly structured Crying Fist, whose climax evokes much more ambivalent feelings (because it is about life), the careful manoeuvring of Rush caused me to feel indifferent to who would win, and I thus manoeuvring generally lost interest in what was happening on screen during the final act. Rush probably owes its extraordinary popularity to the fact that everyone ultimately wins in their own way. However, another key factor is undoubtedly the precision of the film’s craftsmanship, thanks to which you perceive the racing sequences hopped up with superbly tuned sound and the fetishistic close-ups of various machine parts with all of your senses. It’s not as immersive as a PlayStation racing game, but comes pretty damned close. 80% (10/11/2013)

Rush follows Morgan’s template, where he starts with some real events, finds a “timeless" theme in it and then subordinates everything to that theme. Not a thread of truth remains in this dramatization of real events, but it doesn’t matter, because the end effect is that things could have been like that and they might easily have said it like that. Which isn’t a bad approach; and he’s a dramatist anyhow. It would be a mistake to expect faithfulness to the truth from Rush, and an even greater mistake to try to find an insight into the racing car driver’s soul, Le Mans - style. And it would have been stupid to expect a sports cliché from them. Sport is only secondary in this movie. What can you expect from it, then? A drama (first and foremost drama!) about rivalry between two adversaries where one is heads and the other tails of the same coin and where each represents a different archetype of the sport; a charismatic playboy enjoying life to the full and darling of the camera with a talent straight from God while others look after his career versus the drilled, tight, precise art of a through and through rational careerist who avoided the spotlight under all circumstances. A portrait of two men where one wouldn’t have existed without the other and... A sort of racing yin and yang. In the audience-pleasing garb (and Howard knows how to sell it, no doubt about that) of Formula 1, while not being about Formula 1 at all. (10/02/2013)

Morgan is the man. He conceives the sleek façade of roaring engines and their tamers in fire-proof overalls as an epic drama, with passionate dialogue and a sense of fair play playing a central role. We get all this in the perfect coat of Ron Howard's directorial tricks, for whom the task of creating an atmospheric visual composition is as demanding as preparing breakfast in the morning. The editing camera orgy and the riveting acting (Daniel Brühl is eyeing the Oscars) are so sovereign for two hours that it smacks a little of (traditional) "Howardian calculus," which entertains you for two hours but, like gasoline vapor, wears off by the second day at the latest. That it leaves a very strong and specific odor, I do not deny. 4 ½. (01/01/2014)