Ferrari review – Driver is fantastic, Cruz is even better

This philosophically rich and splenetically violent passion project from Michael Mann was never going to cleave to the rules of conventional Hollywood filmmaking. And Ferrari, about rakish industrialist, engineer and one-time racing driver, Enzo Ferrari, artfully conceals its complex engineering – and a potential for danger – underneath a sleek chassis. Although it appears like something a little different from a filmmaker who’s known primarily for making operatic crime stories, this one places a number of his abiding obsessions in a new framework. It has a hero of questionable moral virtue, an interest in the societal application of machines and technology, and it explores the notion of human sacrifice in the name of an abstract macho ideal.

Things open on a slightly camp note as we see Ferrari (Adam Driver) in crash helmet and driving goggles superimposed into some archive newsreel while racing one of his early dream machines. Then we cut to the future, 1957, where the svelte, silver-haired Ferrari stands at an ominous crossroads in his life, both personally and professionally. Directly behind him is the death of his young son and potential heir, Dino, whose departure has ruptured his relationship with wife and business partner, Laura (Penélope Cruz).

Ahead is the question of his secret relationship with Lina Lardi (Shailene Woodley, miscast), with whom Ferrari has borne a son, though not one who, in current legal standing, will inherit his kingdom. There’s also preparations for that year’s Mille Miglia, a cross-country endurance road race that Enzo needs his team to win in order to have bragging rights and a financially-feasible future for his company.

It’s an eventful year to say the least, and Mann depicts his subject as someone trying desperately to take the extreme emotional tumult in his stride. But then he asks, is there something wrong with this man? Are his reactions merely antisocial or plain psychotic? First and foremost, his attitude towards death leaves much to be desired. He’s haunted by the death of his son, but there’s a chilling absence of feeling when one of his drivers is involved in a prang. It’s the numbing effects of capitalism, the pathologies that come from being the boss, knowing that there’s no room for emotion if you want to succeed. And the film is highly critical of that mindset.

Elsewhere, the fiery embers of the relationship between Laura and Enzo plays out in the tenor of overwrought classical melodrama, with Cruz in particular adding depths and dimensions to a character who has been forced to exit the race early. Driver is very good in the lead, pulling back some of the favour lost on his futzed stereotypical take on an Italian in House of Gucci. But it’s Cruz who adds the real nitro to this film.

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