 |
| Source: Wikipedia |
Apparently this is serious business. Especially for two diametrically opposed superstars. Scrawny Austrian car nerd Nikki Lauda gives up a successful future in finance to drive in circles really fast. Beefy beach-blonde British playboy James Hunt presumably considers cars a negligible distraction from women and booze.
But as our chiseled long-haired demigod says, the racing is incidental. It's the personalities, the competition, the brain-boggling piles of cash sunk into these races. And the closeness to death makes them so attractive to women. At least for him (heads up: plenty of luscious lady-flesh) -- so long as he's winning.
These guys have one thing in common: they alienate their families, ditch potentially stable careers, to taunt death driving "bombs on wheels."
Our joint heroes meet in the minor leagues, where it's hate at first sight. The rivalry spans years. One wins, the other wins, and sometimes some irrelevant dude wins. James Hunt goes through women like toilet paper; the abrasive Austrian plops into a lovely love life which, if it weren't based on fact, I'd condemn as improbable fiction.
The cinematography makes the movie. It's quick, tense, up-close-and-personal. Expect POV wheel shots and close-ups of eyes and axles. The races travel to exotic locations around the world -- from Brazil, South Africa, Spain, Monaco, Germany -- different title cards for slick asphalt tracks.
But priorities change. The promise of glory, the fear of horrible flaming death, grows complex when both guys have spouses to support. So as they yo-yo in and out of slumps, and when the wheeled bombs blow up in their faces, they might finally learn to respect each other. Even if they can't like each other, they can become like each other. Let respect and envy drive them both to greatness.
If that's how you wanna look at it, at the finish line, everybody wins.
122 minutes.
No comments:
Post a Comment