Ferrari

If one thing’s guaranteed with every award season that passes by, it’s the countless biopics clamoring to be critic darlings and take home multiple Oscars. Last year, we had Baz Luhrmann’s flashy Elvis and Ridley Scott’s aggressively forgettable House of Gucci (funnily enough, also starring Adam Driver). And while Ferrari isn’t necessarily the 2023 equivalent of the former film (that title belongs to Bradley Cooper’s Maestro), when compared to this year’s biopic juggernaut, Oppenheimer, Michael Mann’s depiction of the genius behind one of the most decorated luxury sports car brand falls into a purgatory state of neither here nor there. Upon giving it more thought, Ferrari essentially plays as a better version of the aforementioned House of Gucci – both feature a female performance that outshines Adam Driver’s take on an Italian legend, but where the former excels is in exploring themes of ambition through a pivotal period in Enzo Ferrari’s life as opposed to playing out like a Wikipedia page.

Ferrari captures Enzo Ferrari (Adam Driver) during the summer of 1957 as he juggles the weight of his personal drama at home – the grief of his dead son, a mistress with a bastard son (Shailene Woodley), and a crumbling marriage – with the hard-hitting reality of his business on the brink of bankruptcy due to competitors like Maserati who threaten the company’s records on the racing track. As Ferrari’s life appears to unravel, Mann’s take on the racing tycoon tells the story of a man blinded by his unbridled ambition and hubris in his desperate claim to assert dominance over all facets of his life.

Adam Driver as the methodical, austere Enzo Ferrari, likely fixating on the mechanical engineering of his vehicles at the expense of his loved ones.

Director Michael Mann’s filmography has always been characterized by men’s all-consuming drive for success, and Ferrari isn’t any different in this sense. The typical heists and crime life are supplanted by the titular character’s passion for cars, engines, and racing. Also replaced are Mann’s directorial sensibilities of creating a palpable atmosphere through sweeping shots and nighttime shoots dripping in noir. What remains is Mann’s white-knuckle tension and breathless pacing but here, he opts for a matter-of-fact approach as a vehicle for his portrayal of Enzo Ferrari. The tension in the film is framed by Pietro Scalia’s hard cuts and tight editing as he splices mundane scenes with zooming cars to highlight Ferrari’s infatuation with the sport. During the adrenaline-filled racing scenes, Scalia quickly shifts between wide takes of cars zooming down Italy’s breathtaking landscapes with intimate shots of the driver’s focused eyes or their nimble hands shifting the clutch. This overstimulation of the audience further serves a purpose when the focus is taken back to the Ferrari family drama. Much like Enzo, we no longer have the roaring engines and overbearing zooms to distract us from real-life troubles and are left to reckon with the weight of Ferrari’s grief and the consequences of his reckless decisions. By having a minimal score that takes the backseat and instead relying on the humming and throttles to soundtrack the film, the silence that settles in outside of the track allows the film to pinpoint the drama in Ferrari’s life and deepens the pathos within the film’s conflict.

While the film centers around Adam Driver’s performance, given he plays the titular character, it is Penelope Cruz as his wife, Laura, who steals the show. Her performance encapsulates a woman scorned – a woman whose sacrifices for her husband’s success were taken for granted. Her seething rage permeates her every action and every word until it bursts out at the seams. But Cruz’s performance is far from being just another entry in those “Best Acting” compilation videos comprised of mere yelling and screaming. Laura’s outbursts are built on a foundation of hurt, grief, sorrow, and loss – towards their son, towards a husband she thought she knew, and of a life she could’ve had – Cruz’s delivery nails this nuance. It’s her performance that paints the strokes of Driver’s stoic and icy Enzo Ferrari, whose only moments of vulnerability are at his son’s grave. Driver also imbues empathy into his performance and gives the audience a glimpse into how grief could drive someone to behave as such. Shailene Woodley, unfortunately, isn’t up to par with these two as she delivers a rather one-note performance as Ferrari’s mistress, Lina, and fails to portray the emotional turmoil someone in her position would be facing. Adding insult to injury, Woodley does attempt an Italian accent but seemingly gives up on it halfway through her scenes to the point of distraction.

Enzo Ferrari’s creation directly competing against Maserati on the Mille Miglia, a racing tournament around Italy, moments before tragedy strikes on the track.

Without the leading performances, Ferrari as a film would have reflected its emotionless protagonist. As the film progressed, the “strictly business” direction began to work against it as it felt cold and detached from its subject matter. Ferrari didn’t evoke a burning desire to depict the story it wanted to say, nor did it seem like there was a driving force behind it. For its first hour, there was no apparent direction as to where the plot was headed or what the film was trying to achieve. While the pieces did come together in the second half, some guidance and a better structure within Troy Kennedy Martin’s screenplay would have greatly benefitted the overall experience.

While Ferrari contains common flaws in relation to biopics, it blazes enough of its own path to not completely fall victim to traps set by the genre. By choosing a defining moment of Enzo Ferrari’s to highlight the issues that plagued his life – instead of a typical rags-to-riches underdog story – the film excels at delivering its themes. Though it has to skid through an inconsistent screenplay with varying tones of comedy (intentional or not) and soap-opera melodramatics and distant direction, Ferrari still reaches the finish line through meaningful drama, taut tension, and rock-solid performances, notably a stellar Penelope Cruz who deserves to be a front-runner in this year’s Best Supporting Actress conversation.

Verdict: Despite a few bumps in the road, Ferrari earns itself a Nick Pick for depicting the legend behind the sports car manufacturer and his complex home life through memorable performances and thrilling race scenes.