Rush

Director: Ron Howard
Starring: Chris Hemsworth, Daniel Brühl, Olivia Wilde, Alexandra Maria Lara, Pierfrancesco Favino, David Calder, Natalie Dormer
Running Time: 122 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Fear is a pro athlete's worst enemy. Once it enters the equation trouble usually follows. But it's only when you've realized it's there that it's really over. There's a great scene in Ron Howard's Formula One motor racing drama, Rush, depicting that. Austrian driver Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl) tells his new wife that he'll be a worse driver now because he's happy and has something to lose. It's the defining moment of the film because it's that little sliver of doubt creeping in that every competitor fights against. Niki's nemesis, Englishman James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth) rarely has such thoughts, or when he does, quickly dismisses them by vomiting before the race. The movie is about their rivalry during the 1976 season that saw Lauda being pulled from a flaming Ferrari while Hunt fought to accumulate enough points to catch up and take his crown. And neither is particularly likable, to the point that your opinion on who the bigger jerk is may waver from scene to scene.

There's nothing in screenwriter Peter Morgan's script that shamelessly tugs at the heartstrings or depicts either driver as a hero. In fact, an argument can be made that the opposite stance is being taken with a thoughtful, sometimes cutthroat examination of why these guys would risk their lives and how that adrenaline rush of cheating death can become as addictive as a drug. It isn't your typical sports drama and doesn't end like one either, taking the cliche of that last "Big Race" and flipping it on its head. The stance it takes is gutsy and it's because of that lack of manipulation that viewers will come away with more respect for these two than they would if their story were given the typical Hollywoodization. Based on a true story, it feels like it actually is one, taking a straightforward, biographical approach without playing any games. That this comes from the writer/director team behind Frost/Nixon strangely makes sense, as it's also about two unlikely rivals thrown together by circumstance and history. One of the most sumptuously shot films of the year, it plays like a great, feature-length 30 for 30 on steroids.

The film begins 8 years prior to that legendary 1976 season as the two drivers couldn't possibly have more contrasting personalities, philosophies and attitudes both on and off the track. Hunt is a womanizing, hard partying rock star-like racer who lives for the rush while Lauda is a cold, calculating technician and expert strategist out there to get the job done. They detest one another almost immediately, with each representing what the other can't stand about the sport. We see how they eventually became heated rivals, with an arrogant Lauda buying his way into competition but still fighting for the respect he feels is owed to him while the freewheeling James Hunt is already racking up victories. Soon, the tide turns with James playing catch up and struggling to find a team that will take him because of his reckless behavior. Their feud rages on, exchanging victories and losses until it becomes less about being world champion than beating the other, regardless of the toll it takes on their personal lives and marriages. At least until the German Grand Prix, which ends up being the race that changes everything.

What's captured so well by Ron Howard is how two athletes at the apex of their profession can simultaneously hate and respect each other. The one thing no one wishes on a fellow competitor under any circumstances happens to Niki Lauda, with the fiery crash itself playing as a nightmare that's almost impossible to watch, as a burning inferno engulfs him for a good minute. A minute that may as well be an eternity for him. How he survived a crash like that at all (in 1976 no less) is astonishing in itself, but what unfolds in its aftermath can't be spoiled other than to say it drastically changes their rivalry and relationship in completely unexpected ways. Even the circumstances leading up to the crash are so odd I'm not even sure I'd believe it if it wasn't based on a true story.

Much acclaim has rightfully gone to Daniel Brühl for his portrayal of the stubborn, almost pathologically mechanical Lauda and what's great about the performance is how it doesn't give us some cookie-cutter sports hero who overcame the odds or shy away from diving into the uglier, obsessive aspects of his personality. Hemsworth deserves more credit than he's getting as Hunt because while it's unquestionably an example of perfect casting (think Thor in a race car), he never plays the guy as a brainless lug. As crazy as Hunt was, he manages to do something that borders on being subtle and sympathetic, especially as the film wears on. Both men have their inner demons and its scripted and edited to put them on equal footing, playing as kind of a dual biopic that short changes neither athlete.

As Hunt's wife Suzy, Olivia Wilde isn't given a whole lot to do, but even that strangely makes sense given the driver's lifestyle and penchant for collecting women as hood ornaments. But in her few scenes, the retro looking Wilde definitely makes an impact, as she usually does. The idea that he would get married as some kind of misguided attempt at normalcy and stability is interesting. Hunt was who he was and even she acknowledges that trying to change that is a lost cause.  Lauda's relationship with his wife Marlene (a really great Alexandra Maria Lara) is justifiably given more emphasis since it's pushed to the limit through tragedy. Their relationship ultimately becomes the centerpiece of the picture and deserves to be because it's handled in a realistic manner that doesn't insult the viewer's intelligence or extol false messages of hope and perseverance. It earns its stripes by simply being honest from the moment the two meet to when Lauda is fighting for his life in the hospital.

Both men are confronted with the question of whether this is worth their lives and while it should seem obvious how dangerous a sport this is, this is a film that really shows it, with the camera taking you into the car to feel the terror and exhilaration. Oscar winning cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle shooting it in this hazy, vintage style befitting the story, action and time period, giving it a look that resembles nothing else Ron Howard's ever made. Hans Zimmer's score might not soar to the spectacularly over-the-top heights of his synth-heavy composition for Days of Thunder, but this isn't that kind of movie, despite the shared subject matter. It's unlikely anyone would confuse the two films on any other grounds either, and as much as I love Thunder, it's tough to defend it on grounds other than as a cheesy, guilty pleasure that's very much of its time. This feels more timeless, and with little guilt attached to enjoying it, regardless of whether or not you're familiar with the sport. Nothing is too "inside," as its effectiveness comes in setting a universal story within the racing world.  

As a deadly serious examination of the sport that still somehow finds room for some subtle humor in the rivalry, Morgan's script takes giant creative liberties with the drivers' real life relationship (they were actually good friends),  but those choices are defensible in bringing to the surface greater truths about their differing approaches to the sport and their lives. The film bravely posits that it isn't a coincidence which one of these men survived, with Hunt clearly subscribing to the Neil Young philosophy that it's better to burn out than fade away. The highest compliment to Rush is when we're eventually shown actual footage of Hunt and Lauda I still thought I was watching a dramatization. It's the kind of authenticity every sports film strives for, but so very rarely achieves.                               
         

I Love You, Man

Director: John Hamburg
Starring: Paul Rudd, Jason Seagal, Rashida Jones, J.K. Simmons, Jamie Pressley, Jon Favreau Jane Curtin, Andy Samberg
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

I Love You, Man is the type of comedy that surprisingly gets a whole bunch of little details right. Actually, it gets so many details right you almost run the risk of missing something if you don't pay close enough attention. That it accomplishes this is somewhat surprising considering a new Judd Apatow-style comedy is released every other month that covers similar territory as the one that came before it. Even if his name isn't there as either writer, producer, or director (which it isn't in this case), his footprints are all over it.

Each time I expect to tire of the well-worn formula of a man-child being forced to take responsibility and grow up. But I haven't yet. And I think the reason I haven't yet is because each movie seems to have some kind of clever little quirk or hilarious take on a life situation that differentiates it from the rest. In this one, writer/director John Hamburg takes the pitfalls of dating and relationships and cleverly applies them to platonic friendships, with hilarious results.

The plot is formulaic but never feels like it because the writing is so clever and the two leads share such great comedic chemistry onscreen together. Between Rudd and Segal it's almost impossible to choose who gives the more fulfilling performance because both make the film. I've come to expect this kind of greatness each time out with Rudd, but it was Segal who stepped out of his comfort zone a little more to play a character who isn't as goofy as you'd think. And it's that contrast, along with some funny sub-plots and supporting players, that make this an undeniable success.

California real estate agent Peter Klaven (Rudd) seemingly has it all. Newly engaged to his beautiful girlfriend Zooey (The Office's Rashida Jones) and expecting to rake in big bucks closing on Lou Ferrigno's house, things couldn't possibly be going any better. It's just too bad he doesn't have any friends to share it with and as his wedding day quickly approaches he's in danger of walking down the aisle minus a best man. Throughout his life, Peter has always been the consumate "ladies' man," always enjoying the company of women in his life but seemingly unable to forge lasting male friendships.

When his father (J.K. Simmons) and very openly gay brother (Andy Samberg) come up with the idea of setting him up on "man dates" to try to find a best friend. That doesn't work out so well, with Peter losing all hope entirely until he runs into the bizarre and charismatic Sydney Fife (Segal), who's "cougar hunting" for divorcees and scoring free food at his Ferrigno open house. In him he's finally found his friend "soulmate" who introduces him to a whole new world outside his boring, everyday existence. Unfortunately, Sydney's presence, while increasing Peter's confidence, begins to cause a serious rift in his relationship with Zooey.

When the film began, I was kind of unsure of the direction it was going. It doesn't really start to become clear until Peter starts "auditioning" friends, the results of which are not only hysterical, but surprisingly observant and true to life. As you're watching one of his man dates you have a sneaking suspicion that what Peter thinks is happening might differ entirely from what his "date" (played by Thomas Lennon) thinks is going on. But you're still not quite sure. When that suspicion is confirmed, the payoff is priceless. Rudd and Lennon sell the whole thing perfectly. Another classic scene, in which the catchphrase-challenged Peter leaves a voicemail on Sydney's machine we should all recognize since we've all probably left one just like it at some time or another. Hamburg's script knows that, milking the joke for all its worth, making the clever observation that it's sometimes no less difficult to launch a platonic relationship than a romantic one.

The movie is filled with clever sub-plots, most notably the funny dynamic between Peter's dad and brother, a smug, "urinal cake faced" co-worker (played by Rob Huebel) and ANYTHING INVOLVING LOU FERRIGNO and the selling of his home. The choice of Ferrigno for this part was gold and it's hard to imagine any other celebrity working as well in that spot. Every single joke involving him hits the mark, while the script somehow manages to not to mock or ridicule the actor, as can often occur when stars are playing themselves. His agent deserves a raise getting him to appear in this as he comes out of this looking like a million bucks while still supplying many of the films' laughs.

The true success of the film lies in the "bromance" between Peter and Sydney. The characters bring out in one another what the other lacks. Rudd is kind of playing the nervous, doubting Woody Allen or Larry David-type and judging from the commercials I expected Segal to be the sloppy, irresponsible goofball who terrorizes Peter's relationship with his fiancee, not unlike Owen Wilson's character in You, Me and Dupree. But Segal's Sydney is surprisingly smooth and well-adjusted, offering witty life ruminations and encouraging Peter to just be himself. He's not there to just wreck havoc as he would in an inferior slapstick comedy. He's a smart, interesting person who just so happens to be directionless and Segal's performance reflects that. After a while you start to wonder who really needs the friendship more. I found his work here to be more interesting than in last year's Forgetting Sarah Marshall (which he wasn't bad in either).

When Sydney brings Peter into his "man cave" there's no turning back. They bond over golf and jam out to Rush, enjoying a real resurgence considering their music is now being anointed by every comedy released these days as the holy grail of classic rock. It's a proclamation even I'm starting to believe is true, though it's sometimes tough to tell whether the films are winking sarcastically at their greatness. It's taken a step further this time as Geddy Lee and company actually appear.

Since this is a rom-com (albeit with a guy slant) we're still required to have the requisite third act crisis with the girl, which is thankfully underplayed and Rashida Jones comes off as so effortlessly cool and likable as the female lead. Of recent comedies, she probably ranks second only to Elizabeth Banks in Zack and Miri in terms of bringing the most to the usually thankless "girlfriend" part. Zooey would represent the perfect wife if only she had heard of Rush and didn't have Jamie Pressley, Jon Favreau and Sarah Burns' mean, irritating characters for friends. They're among the very few faults of the film in that it's nearly impossible to suspend disbelief long enough to imagine someone like her would be spending time with them, then turn around and criticize Peter's new choice of BFF.

Like Role Models before it, this is an Apatow movie through and through regardless of whose name is on the credits. And that's not a bad thing. It makes even more sense when you consider that Hamburg cut his chops as a writer on Apatow's short-lived Fox series, Undeclared. This is an example of a textbook comedy that takes very few wrong steps and while you won't be rolling on the floor, it is consistently enjoyable from beginning to end. It's definitely the kind of movie you easily plop down nine bucks to see at a theater without guilt, and if you waited for DVD, even better. I'm almost tempted to rate it higher since it does almost nothing wrong but it just doesn't reinvent the wheel and isn't the type of movie that holds up on repeated viewings. Although that hardly matters in a genre where the bar is generally set pretty low, despite being raised considerably these past couple of years. It's the performances of Rudd and Segal that really make I Love You, Man worthwhile, extending the streak of smart, edgy rom-coms that find a clever way to appeal to all audiences.