Michael Mann’s “Ferrari” was designed to be a box office bomb. Upon its release, it seemed far less popcorn-inducing than its competitors “Wonka” or “Anyone But You,” or its spiritual predecessor, “Ford vs Ferrari,” in 2019. Despite strong reviews, the biopic, which cost about $95 million to make, sputtered badly at the box office and was completely shut out of the Oscar nominations. Puck’s Matt Belloni, in a slyly titled  “coroner’s report” on the film, says that “the latest Mann disappointment is an example of the chasm between film executives and filmgoers.”

Of course, Mr. Mann, 80, was never a giant box office draw when compared to other great contemporary directors like Christopher Nolan or Quentin Tarantino. But, to a certain subset of cinephiles, he is somebody else.  

At the age of 80, Mr Mann is a prolific filmmaker who often reconstructs American masculinity. The men in Mr Mann’s films tend to be triumphant at what they do, yet are deeply melancholic and lonely. As a result of their emotional tension, they have methodical personalities. 

Think of the moment in Mr Mann’s feature debut “Thief,” when Frank the jewel thief tells his date at a coffee shop about his dream of a good and normal life. In the same vein, “Heat” sees professional thief Neil MacCauley rejecting the tenets of traditional masculinity – “barbeques and ball games,” as he sees it – in favor of working excessively (as a bloodless thief). Or Vincent’s nihilism in “Collateral” when he turns an ordinary taxi driver’s life upside down. 

So how does Enzo Ferrari, the eponymous founder of Ferrari, fit into the mold shaped by Mr Mann, who has had this biopic in development for more than thirty years?

In “Ferrari,” Enzo Ferrari (Adam Driver) faces an existential crisis. He is stuck between his broken marriage to his wife, Laura (Penelope Cruz), who is also his financial partner, and Lina Lardi (Shailene Woodley), his mistress who has borne him an illegitimate son named Pierro. That boy is important to Mr Ferrari for two reasons: the first is that the only son he had with Laura, Alfredo, had recently died at age 24: and the second is that his business is doing financially woeful. In the meantime, his focus has been on winning the 1957 Mille Miglia with the new design of his Formula One car. For review purposes, let’s just say that the race is not for the faint-hearted.  

Critically, there is one difference between Mr Driver’s Ferrari and the other heroes and antiheroes with which Mr Mann presents us. The film is focused mainly on Mr. Ferrari’s legacy passed down to future generations, rather than on their pursuits. 

Apart from that, Mr. Driver’s character fits into Mr. Mann’s mold of men to a tee, ranging from the matching gray suit and hairline to his great ambition to dominate the car market through a mixture of pragmatic charisma and attention to detail. But the most important aspect remains the oblique attachment to fatherhood. Apart from Will Graham of “Manhunter,” not many father figures are depicted in Mr Mann’s oeuvre. In this case, it’s Mr Ferrari and his illegitimate son, who he looks after, in large part because of the loss of his biological son.

Despite its substantive mold, “Ferrari” brings out one of Mr Mann’s least interesting visual palettes and compositions in his long career. The film hinges on many sincere moments – from the climax of the Mille Miglia to Laura Ferrari’s mourning of her son– and much of it feels like watching a late Michaelangelo Antonioni production. But this is back-to-basics for Mr Mann, after decades of experimenting with a digital aesthetic in his previous films “Public Enemies” and “Miami Vice,” all of which are set in ethereal worlds that are carefully crafted.  

The greatest strength of Ferrari comes from the chemistry between Mr Driver and Ms Cruz, revealing an emotional ying-yang of Mr. Ferrari’s stoicism and M.s Ferrari’s ferocious intensity. Mr, Driver has been criticized for being emotionally empty in the role, but perhaps that is supposed to be the point. He embodies that hollowness quite well and it turns him into an interesting personality that speaks of his experience with death.

“Ferrari” feels like a counterweight to the healthy masculinities of Mr Mann’s past efforts or, for that matter, “Ford Vs Ferrari,” which sees two men truly enjoying driving and building cars. But “Ferrari” can also be read as an antidote to “The Insider,” Mr. Mann’s tobacco scandal drama: both films speak about the ethics of media and big business comprehensively, calling for more regulation. 

In any case, the masculinity of Mr. Driver’s Ferrari is, at best functional; at worst, it often treats certain people experiencing loss as if this loss is their fault. During one car test, he blames the driver for being distracted by his spouse and not concentrating on the speed, rather than the possibility that the design might not be up to scratch. In that sense, Mann is reconstructing masculinity, rather than fashionably deconstructing it and arriving at the outcome of masculinity being ultimately toxic. “Ferrari” seems like a fence sitter in comparison, but it does its job enough.