Ford v Ferrari

Ford v Ferrari is an odd title for this movie. While the story covers the way in which Ford went to war against Ferrari in the late ‘60s, the movie itself is more about Ford’s two year quest for a 24 Hours of Le Mans title. Sure, this quest overlapped with Ford’s desire to crush Ferrari, which is well covered by the film, but that desire stemmed from Ford’s attempts to partner with Ferrari for a Le Mans campaign before being stabbed in the back, also well covered in the movie. However, all of that is basically exposition for the real story of Ford v Ferrari, which is the struggles and eventual triumph of the team that ran Ford’s racing division during those years, especially the contentious friendship of driver and mechanic Ken Miles and automotive designer and race team leader Carroll Shelby.

Christian Bale and Matt Damon capture this complex friendship with an effortless believability. Miles and Shelby have the kind of relationship where they get on each others’ nerves and fight a lot but still have a great deal of mutual respect and shared passion. This is a tricky dynamic to capture as it is combative without being antagonistic. Ford v Ferrari is so adept at nailing this dynamic that even in a scene were Miles and Shelby are literally punching each other, half-heartedly fighting on Mile’s front lawn after a particularly frustrating series of setbacks, you can tell the two still have a tight bond and this is just their way of working through their tensions in a physical way.

Ford v Ferrari, being about a multi-year campaign for a title, also has an atypical structure for a sports movie. Unlike Rush, one of my other favorite contemporary racing movies, Ford v Ferrari isn’t about the act of driving itself but about every little thing that leads up to that moment of split second decision-making on the track. It is about the engineering of the car. It is about the politics of Ford’s managing executives. It is about the family life of Miles and how that informs him as a driver. As a result, the movie conveys this feeling of each moment building to something bigger, and then that moment building to something bigger still, until it all culminates in France for the dramatic conclusion. It really works.

For example, the movie establishes that Miles, Shelby, and the rest of the team at Ford Racing developed a version of the GT engine that can be pushed harder for longer, without risking overheating, giving them a distinct advantage over their competitors. A small detail like this is then paid off later when that advantage allows for strong overtaking when it would normally be too risky in an endurance race like Le Mans.

The races themselves are the one place where I think the movie suffers slightly.  They often lean into what, for lack of a better term, I will call the gear shift trope.  Every time the car needs to pass someone there is an insert shot of Miles’ foot tapping the clutch and a hand going to the shifter.  This is an incredibly tried and true way to justify quick cuts to heighten the sense of action and pace during a driving sequence, but it is so common that it has become a bit overdone.  You can find it in everything from the B-film come surrealist action schlock of The Fast and the Furious films to the sublimely choreographed chase sequences of Baby Driver.  Given that this movie is about car racing, rather than just using cars as one part of a larger action story, it would have been nice if they had used some other way to indicate Miles’ driving prowess while also keeping that frantic feeling those quick cuts provide.  The movie talked briefly about the flow of the race, the fastest lines and when to corner, especially in Miles’ conversations with his son.  Rather than rely on the tired cliche of the gear shift close up I would have much rather the movie made more of this race flow concept, showing how smart cornering and intelligent usage of Ford’s superior engine durability allowed for passing opponents with driver skill rather than by utilizing the all-to-classic “punch it” moment.

My other problem with the races is that the crashes are all way too dramatic. Cars crash into the hay bale track barriers, flip up into the air, and then disintegrate on impact. Cars get T-boned and practically split in half. At least as shown, these are the kinds of crashes that would kill the driver instantly. The 1960s were a much wilder time in racing, to be sure, but if crashes were as common and as catastrophic as the film’s exaggerations imply, racing simply would have been too deadly to be as successful as it was. This need for over-the-top theatrics detracts from what are otherwise thrilling moments in the story.

One thing that surprised me was the use of Ford’s internal struggles as a source for conflict. First, it surprised me that some members of Ford’s executive staff play the role of villain for much of the piece. Especially with a title like Ford v Ferrari. Then it surprised me how cartoonishly egotistic and inept those executives are written, to the extent I wondered if they are mischaracterized by the movie in order to tell a better story, like the coach from Rudy. Then the final surprise came when reading about the real events behind the film as it turns out Ford’s racing executives were, in fact, just as stupid as they are portrayed.

Hollywood has a complex relationship with cars. America is a car culture country and this is reflected in our movies. Audiences love car chases and so, with ever escalating levels of extravagance, action films fill their time with civilian cars crashing through city streets. The Fast and the Furious franchise represents the apotheosis of this kind of action filmmaking. On the other hand, despite America’s long love affair with auto racing, from the Daytona 500 to Laguna Seca, it hasn’t been well represented on screen since the 1970s. Ford v Ferrari demonstrates there are still interesting stories that can resonate with a modern audience to be found on the track. The way it elevates the human drama and the grander narrative of the ‘66 Le Mans race is something that can be appreciated even by people who aren’t gear heads or grease monkeys. I just wish the actual racing scenes were a little more grounded.

Would Recommend: If you find the narratives around sports as fascinating as the contests themselves.

Would Not Recommend: If having a passion for cars seems juvenile to you.