Rush

Formula One is a near impossible sport. Only the right combination of near-death daring, speed, mechanics, weather and precise skill can not only win the race but also allow you to finish it in one piece. When all the extraneous parts come together, it makes for sheer, cathartic fun.

Ron Howard’s “Rush” feels that way when it hits its stride. “Rush” is a formulaic sports movie with a driver’s eye mentality that grants an infinitely more heart pounding sensation even when the narrative and drivers seem to be going around in circles.

Americans have never caught on to Formula One the way the rest of the world has, but they know rivalries, and they know assholes, especially foreign ones. “Rush” has both, it being a biopic on an infamous rivalry between the smarmy and posh Brit James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth) and the blunt, coldly calculating Austrian Niki Lauda (Daniel Bruhl) during their 1976 season.

Hunt drove for McLaren and Lauda for Ferrari, each forcing their way into the big leagues with equal parts skill and money. Their rivalry is built on the fact that they’re both jerks inside the car and out, testing each other in harsh conditions while trading barbs about their wives and general appearance.

Occasionally the film bears a resemblance to Howard’s “Frost/Nixon,” which like “Rush” was written by Peter Morgan. The two trade back and forth insults in a figurative boxing match as they exchange race victories and burnouts, and the film is loaded with enough Formula One politicking to show that the thrill of near-death racing is not merely a physical sensation but one that manifests itself in the sport’s culture, attitude and gamesmanship.

Those inferred ideologies are often more interesting than the spoken ones, as Morgan, who can seem effortless with historical dramas, has written a script that sometimes reeks of writing. Noble sentiments about racing and facing death are mixed in with more practical ones of professionalism, and it comes across as grandstanding not befitting a sports movie.

Yet like a sports movie, it falls into all the same speed traps. “Rush” loves to say the two protagonists’ full names, and it suffers from the bad sports broadcaster syndrome that most in the genre do.

“Rush” is at its best when it’s behind the drivers’ seat. Despite an impersonal touch behind the camera, Howard nails the race day feel with magnificent sound design. Pistons patter in explosive bursts to the tune of Hans Zimmer’s typically thunderous and gallivanting score and Anthony Dod Mantle’s (“Slumdog Millionaire”) slick, silvery cinematography. The look is so impressive, we get shots of the racers’ eyes that seem to be from inside the helmet visor, extending the expectations of the traditional POV.

All of it contributes thrillingly to Hunt’s “screw it” mentality at a rainy Japan race during the film’s climax. “Rush” gets its kicks by embracing the sloppy adrenaline of the film, and yet it feels carefully polished in its visuals.

Howard shares the philosophy of each of his leads and accelerates along with memorable moments like a cute riff on “It Happened One Night” and some unexpectedly shocking scenes in a hospital. These scenes full of craft and cleverness will remain exciting and vivid, even if the rest of “Rush,” like the sport on which it is based, quickly fade in the public eye.

3 stars