This perfectly-paced film about Paul Newman, champion race car driver, is about the late star's life as a racer and his undying passion to continue to better his competency behind the wheel. I say "competency" because, judging by this lovely film and everything else I've read about Paul Newman, that's precisely the kind of understated term Mr. Newman would have preferred.
Paul Newman, this film shows us, took on the art of driving well with a deliberate, humble, let's-get-this-right-if-it-takes-all-night approach. Here was a man not afraid of making mistakes—this, a lesson borrowed from his acting—who even invited error as a way of probing the perimeters of the possible, a way of becoming a better and better man. It's that breed of humility and deliberation that makes this documentary such an important and fittingly executed work: it simply tells the story of this amazing driver without pumping up the nostalgia, without needless flash and fanfare, and with the quiet, surehanded style required of its subject.
In a clip included in the film, Paul Newman says that he took part of every role he played and built it, permanently, into his own character. Remember when "Fast Eddie" Felson says (of Minnesota Fats), in The Hustler, "I beat him all night and I'm gonna beat him all day"? It's such a great line, because Fast Eddie means it. He ain't kidding around, and you know it. It's in Paul Newman's eyes.
Director Adam Carolla (who, to be frank, is equal-parts hilariously trenchant social commentator and irretrievable ignoramus: he has suggested, unapologetically, that men into cooking are, by definition, "losers" and that the Cecil [the lion]-killing dentist—who, with the release of a single arrow, made everyone's world a little smaller—should escape judgement because "he pays his taxes") depicts a man who revelled in the chance to show on the track that indeed he could, at the young age of 48 and later at 82, beat 'em all night (literally speaking, at Le Mons) and then beat them all day. Mostly, though, it shows us a man who wanted to be part of a team of extraordinary people, running the right lines at the right speeds in a perfectly tuned car, then hear from the other drivers that he ran a good race, and then wake up and do it again. He wanted to do this and this and the other things—like raising hundreds of millions for charity and giving sick kids a camp to forget their troubles—not because they were easy but because they were hard, and because it all propelled him closer, to use Newman's word, to a kind of "grace."
You'll have a tough time finding anything wrong with this documentary, whether you're a car racing fan—or, for that matter, an Adam Corolla fan—or not. It'll sweep you up; it'll put you in the passenger seat and take you around the track, right next to The Man with the cerulean blue eyes. And if you're not a fan of Paul Newman—especially after seeing this gem of a doc—well, then God help you.