Director: Ron Howard
Runtime: 123 minutes
The marriage of a Formula 1 racing story and Ron Howard, king of the middlebrow adult drama, is a head-scratcher on paper. Howard's films rarely dip into the sort of dangerous, even sexy, territory that defines the subject matter of a film like Rush. Yet even though this racing drama has its share of major faults, it certainly represents a return to form after 2011's dead-on-arrival rom-com The Dilemma. Most impressively, Howard even gets to show off his rarely seen stylish side.
If you're wary that Rush is little more than some lunkheaded racing drama, have no fear. Despite the subject matter, Howard and scribe Peter Morgan's story is as much a character-study as it is a cinematic adrenaline rush. After a brief mid-70s intro, the story proper kicks into gear at the top of the decade, quickly introducing us to handsome hothead James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth), and rival Niki Lauda (Daniel Bruhl). Both men prove themselves as skilled racers on the Formula 3 circuit, but it's not long before Lauda finds ways of cutting corners into the big leagues.
Yet Bruhl's Lauda is no cheat, despite the many instances where Hunt calls him a rat. Rats, according to Lauda, may be unappealing, but they're also smart and determined survivalists. While Hunt drinks and sleeps around, Lauda spends time obsessing over the smallest specifications of his car, even showing his Ferrari-backed mechanics a thing or two about design. As Lauda keeps his nose to the grind, Hunt continues to live life to the fullest, until it starts catching up with his career. Lauda is an obsessive perfectionist, but he also has Hunt beat when it comes to playing the sponsorship game.
Morgan's script may not contain many surprises (even if you go in unaware of a major late game development), but it does at least keep the simple narrative moving. Howard's directing, filled with some of the flashiest techniques in his entire career, more than keeps pace. Even when the Hunt/Lauda rivalry scenes become redundant, Howard and his editors never let the film stall. The director also deserves credit for his handling of the slick racing sequences which, despite their Tony Scott-inspired freneticism, never lose coherence. If anything, one could argue that Howard and Morgan wait too long before fully delivering a real racing scene.
That's not to say that there aren't glimpses of the sport, or its deadly consequences. Morgan's focus, however, seems to boil down exclusively to the rivalry drama. This would be perfectly fine, even great, if it weren't for the hollowness of Morgan's own writing. As stated above, the scenes that pit Hunt and Lauda against each other lose their novelty quickly. Both men may refuse to significantly change, but Morgan never gives enough heft to the reasons for their mentalities. Hunt's condescending remarks and Lauda's hard-ass attitude make for some fun exchanges, but somewhere around the midpoint you wish they'd find something else to say to each other. It doesn't help matters that Morgan opens the film with voice-overs from both characters as a means of establishing their backgrounds. It's an efficient way of covering each man's emotional history (both were disowned by their families), but it undercuts the drama that the film actually does show us.
At the very least, Hemsworth and Bruhl turn in a pair of effective performances. Both do their best to elevate the table scraps Morgan has thrown their way, and each has his moments. They so successfully inhabit their respective personas that it becomes frustrating to see them tackle such repetitive material. Bruhl emerges as the stronger of the two, though that's largely due to the tragic fate of his character that allows some excellent make-up work to do part of the acting for him. Olivia Wilde and Alexandra Maria Lara are, likewise, effective, though they have even less to work with and a paltry amount of screen time.
The most satisfying "performance" ends up being Howard's work behind the camera. Aided greatly by glossy, stylish visuals from cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle, Rush looks as vibrant and dangerous as the races at the center of the drama. Regular Howard collaborator Hans Zimmer continues his recent winning streak with surging score that avoids his recent bombastic tendencies. Sound work is, unsurprisingly, up to par, and the racing scenes sound as good as they look.
Rush was, reportedly, a huge crowd pleaser when it played at the Toronto Film Festival, which is hardly a surprise. This is sleek and sexy entertainment that retains just the right amount of Howard's tasteful aesthetic. The film may drop the ball when it comes to the drama, but it never slides into tedium, thanks to Howard's flashy approach. Even if you're the furthest thing from a racing enthusiast, Rush has enough good qualities to make it an engaging, momentarily gripping, experience. Just don't expect it to linger much once the tires stop screeching.
Grade: B-
Director: Zack Snyder
Runtime: 143 minutes
The great irony of Superman's status as a true all-American superhero is that he's not even from our world. As has been pointed out in more than a few essays over the years, Kal-El is a true immigrant from among the superhero pantheon. If anything, his immigrant status is what allows him to best rise to the lofty (and often unreachable) heights of American ideals. It truly takes an otherworldly, yet still characteristically human, figure to save the day, time and time again. The trick with Superman, however, is how much times have changed. Despite the relative levity of the current Marvel franchise, the shadow of Christopher Nolan's Dark Knight Trilogy still looms large over the cinematic landscape.
Nolan's influence is felt more strongly in Superman's latest outing for obvious reasons. Credited as executive producer and story creator (along with actual screenwriter David Goyer), Nolan has transfered some of his operatic doom and gloom to the world of one of the best known, and more typically upbeat, superhero worlds. Throw in Zack Snyder in the director's chair, and things start making more sense. Snyder's excessive stylization, as contrasted with the Nolan/Goyer method of writing and storytelling, largely balance each other out across Man of Steel, the latest and most epic Superman adventure committed to the silver screen to date.
The approach taken with the new Superman (The Tudors actor Henry Cavill), is a bit of a mash up of the approach that Mr. Nolan used in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. The former was an introduction to a new vision of an iconic character, jumping around in chronology as it transformed Bruce Wayne into Batman for the first time. The Dark Knight, meanwhile, took Begins' foundations and used them to craft a bigger, more epic film, complete with a towering villain who pushed Batman to his very limits. The combination of these two arcs is the source of Man of Steel's greatest strengths and weaknesses.
For the most part, the film is broken up into three parts, beginning with a surprisingly extended sequence detailing the fall of Krypton. Wondrously designed (shades of H.R. Geiger are present), Krypton is on the brink of total destruction after aggressively exploiting its natural resources. Complicating things is a last-second military coup by General Zod (Michael Shannon). The planet's last hope is Jor-El (Russell Crowe), who sends his son off into space as the planet continues to violently fall apart.
Yet as much time as Krypton gets on screen, Man of Steel moves rather briskly though episodes of Kal-El/Clark Kent's young life. In a refreshing structural choice, Clark's childhood is largely seen through flashbacks, often triggered by small incidents in the adult (and insanely sculpted) Clark's life as a wanderer. On one hand, it lends the film a constant sense of movement. The editing across timelines is often quite slick, keeping the film eventful. The downside is that Goyer's dialogue construction isn't quite as effective as his plot structure. Snyder does his best to overcome this with some Malick-inspired camerawork, and more often than not he succeeds, although just barely.
All the same, Goyer's writing remains a problem across the highly eventful (and never, ever dull) runtime. All other aspects of the film seem so finessed and in control, and it's a shame to see the film occasionally stumble through Goyer's awkward dialogue exchanges. The result is a film that looks great (even with a slightly oppressive blue-grey tint flooding every frame), and is often entertaining, yet still not able to reach its full potential. Moments that should hit hard feel obligatory than genuinely emotional, even as the cast tries their best to make something out of thin material.
Whatever problems Goyer contributes, however, are frequently compensated for by engaging work across the ensemble, and Snyder's relentless storytelling. Cavill, though not given much to say, makes a nice, albeit understated, impression as the titular hero. Rather than make him a blank figure of simplistic patriotism, Cavill's Superman is a man torn between his two identities. Although not given much substance on paper in regards to this dynamic, Cavill does have some nice moments as he struggles to reconcile his split identity (even as some of these scenes end too abruptly). It's not big enough performance to be a true star-making turn, but the handsome actor does prove that he's worthy of donning the (smartly redesigned) iconic outfit and cape. He may not erase Christopher Reeve from anyone's memory, but as a more forlorn, wary Superman, he fits right in with the Nolan-ized aesthetic of the film.
More outwardly engaging is Amy Adams as Lois Lane. Though Superman does save her several times, Man of Steel's treatment of the character is refreshing. She's not just a spunky reporter who stands up to her boss. Rather, she's a journalist willing to go to great lengths to get what she wants. And, later in the game, she even plays a pivotal role in devising a plan to help stop Zod. And speaking of Zod, Michael Shannon deserves his share of credit for crafting a villain with a mix of bug-eyed fervor and understandable drive. His mentality may be inflexible, yet there is a (rather dark) logic to Shannon's character and performance that fits in with the mythology of the dying world of Krypton. His will is to ensure the survival of his race, no matter the cost. He may pose a threat to the humanity, but his destruction isn't just for kicks: it's to save a proud race that is sitting at death's door.
The real surprise of the film, however, are Superman's two fathers. The first 20 minutes of the film are basically a mini-action movie for Mr. Crowe, and he lends his role a palpable, but never overbearing, level of gravitas befitting of an alien lord. On the other end of the spectrum is Kevin Costner as Clark's Earth-bound father. Though he isn't afforded much screen time, Costner (along with Diane Lane as his wife) brings a comforting, low-key presence to the role. Despite Superman's foreign origins, his relationship with his adoptive parents is where his true character comes from. Thanks to Costner and Lane, that character rings true when it's displayed on screen.
And even as Goyer's script underwhelms, Snyder manages some stirring moments as a director, even though the impact is largely visceral, rather than emotional. Often criticized as prizing style over substance (to an extreme), Man of Steel isn't exactly a huge detour into hard-hitting character work. However, jarring product placement aside, the film does show Snyder as capable of effective self-control. Rather than become a slave to comic book frames (as he did in his adaptation of Watchmen), his imagery is energetic and muscular, resulting in an impressive, if exhausting, visual assault. Aiding him the whole way is a tremendous score from Dark Knight composer Hans Zimmer. Alternating between thunderous horns and delicate pianos, Zimmer creates a perfect compliment to Superman's humble humanity, as well as his larger-than-life abilities.
It might have initially seemed tired to show Superman's origins again. Bryan Singer's Superman Returns, didn't even bother with them (or Clark's childhood). Yet in laying such an extensive groundwork and mythology, the Snyder/Goyer/Nolan trio has created a rich new world for Superman to explore. Though the film's structure suggests rich themes and then jumps too quickly through them, the film does stick the landing in enough moments. It may not have an element as galvanizing as Heath Ledger's Joker, or as charismatic as Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, but Man of Steel and Mr. Cavill are certainly worthy of taking Superman into the 21st century. Superman Returns was too simple and reverential for modern audiences, while Man of Steel flies at warp speed into the future. And, despite some turbulence, this is a Superman film that truly flies, even if it struggles to completely soar to new heights.
Grade: B
