The tale of Ford v Ferrari hits top gear.

Of all the genres out there, sports films are perhaps one of cinema’s hardest sells. At their best, they’re a natural source of drama, adrenaline, and fist-pumping inspiration, but only if they offer something beyond pure fan service. To appease both fans and general audiences alike you need to find the story’s human side and craft an experience around it that transcends the sport.

The likes of Rocky and Raging Bull certainly wouldn’t have been the successes they were if they catered solely for the boxing crowd, while who can honestly say they knew much at all about bobsledding before Cool Runnings came along? Of course, many sports films coast by on their core audience alone, but the very best go that extra mile to bridge the divide to general audiences.

For racing films, this divide is perhaps wider than most. While of course there are millions of motorsports fans worldwide, there are many more that wouldn’t know their Ford from their Ferrari. For a film as potentially niche as Le Mans ’66, centring as it does on a moment in racing history few outside the sport will recall, the battle for wide appeal is always going to be a hard one.

With sales hitting an all-time low, American car designer Carroll Shelby (Matt Damon) and fearless British driver Ken Miles (Christian Bale) are tasked by US car giant Ford to build a revolutionary race car capable of beating their fierce rivals Ferrari at the 24 Hours of Le Mans. Battling corporate interference, the laws of physics, and their own demons, Carroll and Ken must put aside their differences to build the fastest car possible, but with their professional reputation and their own lives on the line, this race of a lifetime is going to go down to the wire.

Like Rush and even Senna before it, the success of Le Mans ’66 lies in its accessibility and deeply human grounding of a sport that remains relatively obscure to many. Racing is, of course, a huge part of what makes the film tick, yet what allows it to go that extra mile is how deftly it balances the sport at its heart with the real-life characters that surround it.

Come for the fast cars and edge-of-your-seat action but stay for the surprisingly touching human stories. As a celebration of racing, Le Mans ’66 is a runaway success but what really gets the film’s RPM going is its unabashed, sweetly told ode to genius, human endeavour, and the all-encompassing search for perfection.

These factors really are the engine behind the film’s success, making it infinitely relatable to anyone willing to jump in for the ride. While it certainly finds itself drifting as the story occasionally loses itself in the tall grass of car technicalities, there’s plenty to keep those with even the sketchiest of motorsport knowledge gripped from start to finish.

Despite the film’s premise of two huge car companies duking it out for dominance, it comes as a relief that Le Mans ’66 manages to avoid becoming a corporate circle jerk. What could’ve easily descended into a flag waving marketing exercise for an American institution swiftly becomes about so much more, as the race between Ford and Ferrari soon gives way to a far more human battle.

With Ken and Carroll battling to overcome the suits that undermine them at every turn, while still pushing themselves and their machines to the absolute limit, Le Mans ’66 is as much Ken and Carroll v Ford v Ferrari than anything else. The further into the story we travel, the more it opens to become a very personal race for the duo, developing into something of a David and Goliath battle and a relatively damning indictment of corporate culture.

Except for the always excellent Jon Bernthal’s Lee Iacocca, Henry Ford II and his corporate flunkies have almost no redeemable qualities between them, while the Ferrari team hold little screen presence outside of a collection of (rather questionable) Italian caricatures. So, while there’s certainly much to admire in the impressive automobiles on display, Le Mans ’66 is anything but the car advert it could’ve been, crossing the line as something far deeper and far more interesting.

Underpinning this, the film’s star duo both offer performances worthy of their real-life characters. Playing the straight man, Matt Damon puts in a very amenable Matt Damon turn as Carroll Shelby, one that’s infinitely relatable and incredibly genial without stepping outside that. While it may not be as showy as that of his co-star, it’s the kind of low-key charismatic performance that Damon has made his career from.

Alongside him, Christian Bale goes all-in with a typically chameleon-like performance. With his awkward stoop, charmingly British witticisms, booming Brummie accent, and rebellious punk rock energy, Bale’s Ken Miles lights up the show. While certainly not as physical or outrageous as some of his more ostentatious roles over the years, there’s something far more empathetic about this performance that allows Bale to showcase his human side while fully flexing his acting chops.

The driven, enigmatic genius is certainly a character we’ve all seen before, but Bale puts his Ken Miles on another level with a full-bodied turn that walks the line between comedy, tragedy, and all-out anarchy perfectly. Larger than life, Bale’s performance mercifully avoids parody as he portrays a figure so driven by his love of the track and his search for perfection that it’s impossible, even when at his most obnoxious, not to fall in love with the man and his passion.

Whether it’s chucking spanners at people or showing scant regard for Ford executives, Bale’s performance is brimming with charisma and a vigour that gets right to the heart of Ken Miles’ eccentric, volatile personality and acts as the perfect counterbalance to Matt Damon’s far more toned-down approach. And it’s this yin and yang, chalk and cheese dynamic that really fuels the film, with the pair’s on-screen chemistry carrying Le Mans ’66 through even the roughest terrain.

Slowing matters down somewhat, the film’s script is perhaps the only thing holding Le Mans ‘66 back from greatness. Despite the exceptional performances from its stars, the film’s dialogue occasionally undermines them with an over-reliance on grandstanding monologues and the kind of sports clichés we’ve all heard a million times before.

Despite its energy, Le Mans ’66 can’t quite avoid the pratfalls that befall almost every sports biopic, with a plot that, despite the occasional twist and turn, follows a very familiar track. However, despite this, the natural drama and drive of the real-life story is more than enough to pull the film through its shakiest moments to offer a high-octane ride with a broad, crowd pleasing allure.

For all its admirable attempts to humanise what could’ve been a very mechanical story, Le Mans ’66 is, of course, a racing film through and through. While it certainly puts the leg work into its character development, the film’s ultimate success hinges heavily on its ability to portray the races accurately and engagingly. But with a filmmaker the calibre of James Mangold behind the wheel, this was never in doubt.

Continuing the form that brought him such success with Logan, Mangold paints a gloriously kinetic portrait of his subject as he manages to harness racing’s natural energy while making room for more meditative character moments when necessary. Backed up by cinematographer Phedon Papamichael, Mangold clearly has an eye and an ear for cars as he takes every opportunity to put us right in the driver’s seat and right at the heart of the action.

Through innovative camerawork and stunning sound design, we’re thrown into the heat of the race as flashy, impossibly fast cars zoom past your ears, round corners, and head-first into crash barriers with the kind of ferocity that’s hard to replicate with CGI. Consequently, with minimal digital effects, Mangold has orchestrated some of the finest, most visceral car races you’re ever likely to witness on the big screen.

In a world where increasingly bonkers, CGI-stuffed fluff like The Fast and the Furious can make it to 8+ instalments, it’s just nice to know that there’s still space in the world for car-based movies where you can practically taste the petrol. It’s a level of physicality that ups the stakes significantly, with every crash and brake failure putting you on edge until you’re finally hit with a line like - “sometimes they just don’t get out of the car” - and the impact of Le Mans ‘66 finally hits home.

Like any sports film worth their salt, Le Mans ’66 devotes a great deal of its energy to its characters. As the engine of the film, Matt Damon and Christian Bale, as Carroll Selby and Ken Miles respectively, hold everything together, playing a huge part of making the ride as gripping, evocative, and emotionally resonant as it is. As the navigator for this deeply human, against all odds story, director James Mangold is firing on all cylinders for a thrilling, high-octane, but thoroughly relatable, journey that eschews the potential corporate marketing of its setup for an old-fashioned, rip-roaring ride with bundles of passion and a tankful of heart.