When it comes to the movies I love, I’m kind of a fogey. I like movies with a certain sentimental core -- movies that believe, you might say, in a just and good universe. On the other hand, I hate easy cheer. All of which makes me hard for a director to woo and win.
That isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy lots of movies. When the Official Blog Spouse and I finally get to go to a movie together, I usually enjoy it -- more than the OBS, who sees several movies a week in his alternate incarnation as a movie critic for the Washington Times. This makes him impatient about stepping over sizeable plot holes and plodding through the kind of clunky dialogue b-movie script rooms used to churn out by the yard. Me, I’m happy to be out and about. But that’s like, not love.
Well, Ron Howard quite stole my heart with "Rush." The story of a legendary rivalry between two Formula One race car drivers, it’s much more stylishly directed than most of Howard’s work. He’s somehow managed to fuse the gritty aesthetic of the early 1970s with the big-hearted character-driven dramas that are his stock in trade. The racing segments are fantastic -- suspenseful and imminent and such a welcome rest from the folks who think that the best way to make you realize that Cars! Move! Really! Fast! is to film everything with a shakycam and then edit it on a strobe light.
The movie is not flawless, to be sure, but you’ll have to go read my husband to get a list of the flaws. I loved "Rush," and I won’t say a bad word against it. You should all go see it immediately, if not sooner. You know, rush.