Film Review: Rush

Rush. Rated MA 15+ (injury detail and coarse language). 122 minutes. Directed by Ron Howard. Screenplay by Peter Morgan.

Verdict: A riveting tale about knowing why, and when, to stop.

Some films, on paper at least, simply shouldn’t work – and this relatively obscure story about Formula 1 drivers James Hunt (Chris Hemsworth) and Niki Lauda (Daniel Brühl) is a classic example. Locked in a death-defying battle over 30 years ago for racetrack supremacy, the English Hunt and the Austrian Lauda are like chalk and cheese. One (Hunt) is a privileged playboy, hell-bent on instant gratification and any cost, while the other is a master of self-discipline who believes that any kind of off-circuit, self-serving indulgences only disrespect the spirit of the sport.

In the hands of anyone else but Howard, it’s difficult to imagine this film being as engaging as it is. The time, like the cars, flies by, and just as he did with the fantastic A Beautiful Mind (2001) and Frost/Nixon (2008), Howard focuses closely and unwaveringly on the human condition and delivers a thrilling tale of tenacious and uncompromising rivalry.

Howard has built his directorial reputation by masterfully crafting character-driven films – stories about people experiencing life-changing events that require extraordinary, almost super-human responses (Cocoon, Backdraft, Apollo 13), but without the capes, shields and assorted gimmicks. Morgan (Frost/Nixon, The Queen, The Last King of Scotland) is the perfect match for Howard’s deceptively modest storytelling ambitions, and his excellent screenplay is all lean, uncluttered cinematic torque.

Anthony Dod Mantle’s (127 Hours, Slumdog Millionaire, The Last King of Scotland) cinematography will delight race fans, especially since no facet of the engineering masterpieces Formula 1 cars are (or what it takes to drive one) is left unexplored. Mark Digby’s (Dredd, Slumdog Millionaire) production design beautifully recreates the 1970s, with outstanding attention to colour and detail.

Hemsworth (who is undeniably on a roll) and Brühl (Good Bye Lenin!, Inglourious Basterds) are both excellent as the leads, and it is a credit to everyone involved that as you walk away from the cinema, it might be almost impossible to decide who, if anyone, really won.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: 2 Guns

2 Guns. Rated MA 15+ (strong violence). 109 minutes. Directed by Baltasar Kormákur. Screenplay by Blake Masters, based on the graphic novels by Steven Grant.

Verdict: Denzel and Mark are the new Oscar and Felix.

It should probably be illegal to have this much fun in the face of such reckless slaughter, but Masters’ (Law & Order: LA) excellent screenplay boasts an almost obscene amount of comedy – delivered with absolute relish and megawatts of star power by Denzel Washington and Mark Wahlberg.

When undercover Drug Enforcement Administration officer Robert Trench (Washington) and his co-conspirator Michael Stigman (Wahlberg) are easily able to carry off a daring bank robbery that was supposed to end very differently, they find themselves on the run and caught up in an endless web of double-crossing and intrigue. As the motives of everyone involved become increasingly murky, Trench and Stigman have little choice but to match wits and try to stay one step ahead of the people who want them dead.

It’s not surprising that Wahlberg has teamed up with the Icelandic-born Kormákur again after their collaboration on Contraband (2012). Kormákur, like very few directors, manages to elicit a fantastic performance from Wahlberg, who responds with an engaging, often hilarious star turn that is brimming with confidence. Washington, too, fresh from his magnificent performance in Flight (2012), romps through as the police officer who inadvertently finds himself on the wrong side of the law.

The outstanding ensemble, including Paula Patton (Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol, Precious), Bill Paxton (Titanic) and Edward James Olmos (Dexter), all provide excellent support to the two leads. Paxton (as ruthless CIA operative Earl) and Olmos (drug lord Papi Greco), who are both equally determined to recover their money at any cost, succeed in ramping up the stakes every time they are onscreen.

Like Quentin Tarantino, Kormákur and Masters refuse to take any prisoners, and it’s a credit to them and their two stars, that we hope these rascals live to see another day. They certainly deserve to.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.

Film Review: Gravity

Gravity. Rated M (survival themes, disturbing images and coarse language). 91 minutes. Directed by Alfonso Cuarón. Screenplay by Alfonso Cuarón and Jonás Cuarón.

Verdict: A majestic, actor-proof cinematic tour de force.

There is no denying the visual majesty of this extraordinary cinematic achievement that, if nothing else, will restore your faith in the scope, scale and potential of cinema as an artform. Unlike so many theatrical releases so far this year, waiting for Gravity to come out on DVD would be pointless – such is its magnificent visual and aural impact on the big screen. In 3D it is, quite simply, astonishing, and the most complete and effective use of the technology since Avatar.

As space shuttle astronauts Ryan Stone (Sandra Bullock), Matt Kowalski (George Clooney) and Shariff (voiced by Paul Sharma) are undertaking a space walk to service the Hubble Space Telescope, Mission Control in Houston (voiced by Ed Harris) warns them that debris from a destroyed Russian satellite is heading their way.

Stone (who is on her first mission) hesitates to follow the veteran Kowalski’s orders to return to the shuttle immediately, and the high-speed debris slams into them, causing them to become untethered from not only each other, but also any form of structure. With her supply of oxygen running low, Stone must somehow make it to the relative safety of the International Space Station, and from there, Earth.

Alfonso Cuarón (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Children of Men) and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki (The Tree of Life, Children of Men) deliver one visually ravishing scene after another to the screen with rare cinematic grandeur, to the point where it becomes easy to ignore Cuarón’s script (co-written with his son Jonás), which clunks along mindlessly.

Sandra Bullock makes the most out of the deep-space drama she has to work with, while the goofy Clooney mis-reads his role entirely. Thankfully, you don’t go to Gravity for the acting. You go to see and hear how stunning cinema can be when the artists behind the camera dare to dream big and loud.

This review was commissioned by the West Australian Newspaper Group.