'Ferrari' examines the relentless drive of a man and his machines
Adam Driver is commanding in Michael Mann's thrilling latest movie.
(Photo courtesy of NEON)
Before we see Enzo Ferrari speak, we see him drive. Twice. The first time in Michael Mann’s “Ferrari” is a flashback, shot in the style of an old newsreel, of a young Enzo (Adam Driver) zipping around the track. The second time is in 1957, when the older Enzo is quietly slipping away from his mistress’ house.
Even in that scene, Mann’s camera lingers on the driving, of Ferrari’s hands deftly shifting gears, a rare smile of contentment on his face. Here is a man who loomed large in his native Italy and the world for his powerful, blood-red machines. But he seemed to feel most at home – perhaps only at home – when he was behind the wheel.
“Ferrari” is the first movie in nearly a decade for the 80-year-old Mann, a UW-Madison graduate, and certainly his best in nearly two decades. It’s another “great man” biopic, joining the pack with “Napoleon” and “Maestro.” But Mann distinguishes it with thrilling driving sequences, meticulous attention to detail, and a knife’s edge dramatic balance between excitement and grief.
“Ferrari” focuses on three make-or-break months in 1957 when Ferrari’s personal and professional lives were under enormous pressure. The company is battling bankruptcy, and Ferrari’s only salvation may be to win the Mille Miglia, a historic and dangerous race that takes place on public roads around Italy.
But Ferrari has lost his best driver in a tragic accident, and is trying to get an untested newcomer (Gabriel Leone) ready. Ferrari’s advice to the young driver is that, when faced with a choice on the track between life and death, choose death, and hope the other guy doesn’t as well.
At home, Ferrari’s life is coming apart. With the death of his son Dino the year before, his marriage with his tempestuous wife Laura (Penelope Cruz) is in ruins – husband and wife hate each other so much that they can’t even visit their son’s grave together.
Ferrari also has a longtime mistress, Lina (Shailene Woodley) and an illegitimate 12-year-old son with her. The traditional wife-mistress relationship is reversed in Ferrari’s life – he spends time with Lina in cozy domesticity, then returns home to the chaos of his married life.
Driver does a magnificent and somewhat surprising job of dialing back his usual on-screen appeal, playing the imposing 60-year-old man with cool self-interest. Rarely does anyone, on screen or in the theater, get a peek into what Ferrari is really thinking or feeling. It’s a cold, commanding performance that especially comes to life in Driver’s scenes with Cruz, who infuses Laura’s wild grief with compassion and even a little humor.
But just as Ferrari’s heart is on the race track, so is that of “Ferrari.” Mann films the incredible race scenes from every conceivable perspective, from ultra-long shots that show the blood-red cars slicing through the verdant Italian countryside, to teeth-rattling close-ups with the cameras affixed to the cars themselves. Two car crashes are particularly horrifying, showing in graphic detail how fragile both the vehicles and their drivers are at high speeds.
There’s a bravura scene in the film when Ferrari and several other men from the company are attending service in a church that’s close enough to the company’s race track that they can hear the timer fire his pistol after every lap. Surreptitiously, Ferrari pulls out his stopwatch and monitors the time on each lap.
Mann crosscuts between the stillness of the church and the action on the track, the whine of the engine eventually overwhelming the heavenly choir. It’s as close as “Ferrari” lets us into the depths of its title character’s soul. Racing was so important to him that it drowned out everything and everyone around him, for both incredible rewards and a terrible cost.
“Ferrari” is now playing in theaters.