Movie Review: Ferrari

Michael Mann’s Ferrari presents a fascinating dichotomy — two parallel narratives running at distinctly different paces, much like a race where competitors employ contrasting strategies. On one track, we have the intimate, personal story of Enzo Ferrari’s complicated domestic life; on the other, the adrenaline-charged world of 1950s motorsport and the legendary machines that bear his name. These dual storylines create an uneven yet compelling cinematic experience that mirrors the contradictions of the man himself.

Set in 1957 during a crucial period for both Ferrari’s business and personal life, the film finds Enzo Ferrari (Adam Driver) navigating treacherous terrain on multiple fronts. His company teeters on the edge of bankruptcy, while his marriage to Laura (Penélope Cruz) has deteriorated into a frigid battleground following their son’s death. Simultaneously, he maintains a secret second family with his mistress Lina Lardi (Shailene Woodley) and their young son — a dangerous balancing act that threatens to collapse at any moment.

The domestic drama unfolds with a deliberate, slow-burning intensity that draws viewers into Ferrari’s complex web of relationships. Like the meticulous engineering of his automobiles, these scenes are crafted with precision, revealing the intricate emotional machinery beneath Enzo’s composed exterior. The pace here is measured, allowing tensions to build gradually until they reach explosive potential.

In stark contrast, the film’s racing sequences accelerate with breathtaking velocity. Mann’s camera thrusts viewers into the cockpit as it follows the crimson Ferrari machines through the winding roads of the infamous Mille Miglia, Italy’s thousand-mile open-road endurance race. These sequences deliver white-knuckle intensity, capturing both the exhilaration and mortal danger of 1950s motorsport with visceral authenticity.

The racing scenes provide not just thrilling visual spectacle but serve as a perfect metaphor for Ferrari’s approach to life — pushing boundaries, taking calculated risks, and pursuing perfection regardless of consequence. Here, the film shifts gears dramatically, threatening to throw viewers from their seats as it navigates hairpin turns at breakneck speed.

Powering this complex machinery is a trio of performances that, despite occasional struggles with Italian accents, deliver considerable emotional horsepower. Adam Driver transforms into Enzo Ferrari with remarkable subtlety, embodying the contradictory nature of a man who appears emotionally restrained yet channels profound passion into his creations. Driver’s Ferrari is calculating and distant, yet unmistakably driven by deep internal forces — a performance of controlled intensity that refuses to rely on obvious emotional signaling.

Penélope Cruz delivers perhaps the most combustible performance as Laura Ferrari, Enzo’s estranged wife and business partner. Her portrayal of grief-hardened fury is genuinely unnerving — her face seemingly permanently set in a scowl, her movements unpredictable and threatening. When she appears on screen, purse in hand and rage in her eyes, viewers may find themselves gripping their armrests as tightly as they would a steering wheel on the Mille Miglia’s deadliest curves.

Completing the triangular relationship, Shailene Woodley brings warmth and vulnerability to Lina Lardi, Ferrari’s mistress. Though her role could easily have fallen into stereotype, Woodley imbues Lina with dignity and dimension, creating a character whose love for Ferrari feels authentic rather than merely convenient for the plot. Like Driver, she occasionally struggles with her Italian accent, but the emotional authenticity of her performance largely compensates for this technical shortcoming.

Ultimately, Ferrari is a masterclass in controlled tension — a film that knows precisely when to idle and when to accelerate. Mann’s direction shifts between intimate character study and visceral racing drama with the precision of a perfectly timed gear change. The result is a biopic that places viewers firmly in the driver’s seat, commanding them to surrender to its methodical exploration of a complex man and the fiery machines that embodied his contradictions.

While not every aspect of the film runs with perfect smoothness — the accents occasionally skid, and some narrative threads seem to run out of gas before reaching their destination — Ferrari ultimately crosses the finish line as a compelling portrait of passion, ambition, and the high personal cost of creating a legend. 7/10