Christian Bale and Matt Damon combine their unmatched chamaeleonid forms into what must be one of the riskiest films of the year. The racing genre has embarked on a risky road for quite some time, often selling out consistently loud colourful races in place of creating narrative structures and characterisation above the levels of a sleeping komodo dragon documentary. But what’s initially striking about Le Mans 66’s main principles is its narrative of a proud business’ struggle with competition rather than muscle-men doing drug busts. How should one make someone care about rich CEOs defending their prides through a load of racing and stylish 60s bonanza? Well director James Mangold found a very convincing way to make this not only a stylishly nostalgic racing simulator but an exceptionally-characterised ride, using two of Hollywood’s finest, who finally get a big return, to portray Shelby American owner Carroll Shelby and frustrative mechanic assistant Ken Miles. The film focuses mainly on their growing brother-like bond over saving Ford with a new ingenious design and slowly realise the horror of the brutal competing machine of the car industry as their lives start to lose grip.
After getting his pride wounded after a spitting declination from Enzo Ferrari on a manufacture co-operation to save his dying company, Henry Ford II booms from his newest shut-down car manufacturer a demand for anyone to design a Ford capable of standing a chance against the snobbishly supremist Ferrari in the annual Le Mans tournament to save the brand. After accepting this task, Carrol Shelby takes ex-mechanic Ken Miles on for a co-operation after witnessing his laughing win on a desert tournament despite his hazardously provocative nature. The misfitting two then journey through brutally-pressurised testing and adrenaline-fuelled racing to witness a revolution in automobile before their eyes.
What’s initially clever about this film is its ambiguous treatment of its characters. It vibrantly explores the tension and frantic co-operation attempts between contrasting manufacturers through a variety of marvellous dialogue that has desperation dripping behind its formality, with well-rounded colourful performances from Tracy Letts and John Bernthal, who brings a more business-minded Punisher to the table. But through any milestone or setback, it empathises but refuses to force one to attach to any power-hungry CEO and instead tackles the underbelly of the strained minds behind the revolutionary vehicle.
Bale has always had conjured fireworks from his role dedications, completely transforming himself from his bulky hair-bleached Vice role this January in a matter of months, and nearly makes you question the man’s sanity from how viscously he reflects his characters’ every frustration and mannerism (who could forget his retaining of an American accent whilst yelling at someone off-stage over some lights) and Miles is no exception. Hot-tempered, inconsequential and with the heftiest Australian accent one could imagine, this is considerably the perfect return-to-form role for him and it’s rather surreal seeing those classic Bateman expressions underneath a raging Aussie driver. But after seeing him childishly lug a spanner at Shelby and vulgarly explode at numerous stand-byers, it would seemingly take a miracle for Le Mans 66 to heroically portray him and this is where its other intertwining narratives come in. As any true-story film centred around dreaming characters’ struggles for revolutionary invention must do, the family side is a massive trope for a film to exercise sacrifice and make the plot more realistically-human and flawed. And thankfully, Le Mans 66’ doesn’t treat Ken Miles’ family ties as a chore for a second, clashing Miles’ tight responsible bonds with his wife and son (Caitriona Balfe and Noah Jupe) and his isolative pressured designer life throughout the film to add a vibrant homey feel as he learns to combine the two, even having humorous moments with him loudly showing the dos and don’ts of the car life to his son, much to the irritation of surrounding brand-sellers.
Le Mans 66 is quite an odd film from how fanatically it embraces the classic sunny 60’s vibe but contrasts it with the bigger heat from time pressuring. The brutal imperfections of earlier car generations is shown full-swing, as well as the mental scarring that comes with it. Shelby and Miles’ rocky bond that falters over moves by the higher-powers remains punchy to the end, with the powerhouse of Henry Ford always looming over as a pressure point. For every eureka moment there’s a boiling, hopeless debate behind the boardrooms, which keeps the narrative on its toes, retaining fantastic chemistry and a stylish use of scenarios and pacing to feed the film a burning engine inside of its superficial shell.
But as for Le Mans 66’s obvious selling trait, its racing scenes combine an odd pair of vibrant style and gritty realism, starting on early tournaments with cars that are essentially rust-buckets, veering and exploding at every side, these stylishly-shot environments feel ironically like a bloody war ground and desperate fight for survival than a mere match of egos. As Henry Ford II demands Shelby ‘go to war’, this statement starts feeling almost inhuman with Bale feeling more like a lucky Vietnam troop. Even Damon, known for playing a variety of cocky characters, is seen with dangerous PTSD throughout the film after his Le Mans years before, which is nightmarishly revisited in the beginning with daunting close-ups, a sick spluttering vehicle about to explode, rain nearly blinding you and monotoned commentators acting almost like judging demons. I’ve seen few racing films with such gritty sound design and cinematography that whips you to every point of the driver’s focus without stirring incoherence. And for a 24 hour drive-tournament, the Le Mans finale is exceptional in that it not only captures the drawn-out sapping feel with its extended length but remains lighting energetic all the way, again playing out the brutal effects of weather and slight malfunctions, as well as Bale having the time of his life with raw enthusiasm.
The perfect lap: it gives a sense of what one’s limit is, says Bale to his son. Le Mans 66 is one of the best racing films of the decade, vibrantly expressing the industrial-raging heart of the car manufacturers’ golden days through the brilliant tale of two friends who pour blood and sweat into the next car generation just to keep their jobs. Nearly every character has solid, subtle chemistry and the madman Bale gives it his method-acting all once again. If you’re in for some solid racing action, then by all means sink your teeth into some of the most gripping rubber-burning moments in recent years. But what makes these moments prevail is Le Mans 66’s interactions and generation exploration. It need not search for the starting light, because it already is one. One to inspire racing films years to come.