DAYS OF THUNDER: 4K UHD Blu-ray (Paramount, 1990) Paramount Home Video

Capturing something of the spirit, though none of the heart of NASCAR racing, Tony Scott’s Days of Thunder (1990) aimed to do for pro-racers what Scott’s own Top Gun (1986) had for hot shot pilots – namely, to elevate their stature as bona fide heroes in the eyes of the American public. Alas, stock car driving pre-Days of Thunder did not experience a mainstream renaissance post-Days of Thunder. And although much of the creative team, responsible for the Mach ten/mega-ton success of that earlier movie, reunited for this outing (Tom Cruise as the star and contributor to the screenplay, and, Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer in the producer’s chairs, aiming high for Paramount Pictures) the results this time out were met with tepid dissatisfaction from the critics, if hardly Cruise’s fan base who, let’s be honest, would have paid to see him squeeze lemons in a nightclub.  Cocktail (1988), anyone? Interesting to consider Cocktail here, made for less than $20 million and grossing a whopping $170 million at the box office. Comparatively, Days of Thunder raked in $157,920,733 on a $55 million budget. So, by return-on-investment standards alone, the picture was not altogether a box office titan. Worse, there remained a distinct sense of ennui in this regurgitated and overly familiar tale about an underdog who (wait for it) makes good, given the added flash and flourish of a lot of rubber-burning, alas, to do more lapse than leagues at the box office. Activity suggests a movie teeming with purpose. And there is a lot of extemporaneous sound and fury in Days of Thunder; perhaps, more than enough to make us momentarily forget just how cliché-ridden and pointlessly contrived it actually is.

Days of Thunder fits rather too succinctly into that rarefied sub-genre of the typical Hollywood blockbuster, collectively and retrospectively to get lumped together as ‘the Tom Cruise movie’ – a byproduct of cinema art, exclusively marketable by, perhaps, the only star of his generation capable of such instantly identifiable iconography and magnetic pull. Even if the plot to Days of Thunder wears thin – and it sincerely does – the core elements for which Hollywood established its affinity and investment in Cruise, reemerge herein as an absolute, indestructible, and totally fertile pay dirt. Cruise is cast as the green, though otherwise intuitively endowed stud, Cole Trickle, fortified in his aspirations by a curmudgeonly sage (Robert Duvall’s pit crew boss, Harry Hogge), and inevitably, assuaged in his primal doubts by a more mature and forthright lover (Nicole Kidman), who nevertheless becomes reverential in her passion for him. In less than 2 hrs. this improbable hero must graduate from apprentice to master in his chosen craft, but only after being repeatedly tested to ratify his convictions - some near epic loss that threatens not only his life, but even more devastatingly, his male initiative, pride and ego, to forever alter his naïve outlook on life. Robert Towne’s screenplay dots all of these ‘i’s and crosses every last ‘T’ (and occasionally, ‘t’ and ‘a’, if you get my meaning), before navigating the audience through a formulaic labyrinth with a bit of laughter and a few tears.

Not since John Frankenheimer’s Grand Prix (1966) had another team of film-makers dared to contain the unfettered exhilaration of track racing with a backstory to follow the heartaches and tragedy that befall those steely-eyed competitors, vying for sponsorship, the roar of the crowd, a trophy, and, some prize money. And, although Days of Thunder proved a crowd-pleaser, mostly on Cruise’s cache and drawing power as ‘the name above the title’, nothing compensates for the slapdash screenplay by Towne, to shoe-horn too many subplots into its backstory; the first, involving a queer adversarial camaraderie between Cruise’s NASCAR virgin and, established racer, Rowdy Burns (Michael Rooker) whose fate is sealed after a near-fatal scrape at Daytona. Somewhere along the way, Cole falls for brilliant neurosurgeon, Dr. Claire Lewicki (Nicole Kidman) and vice versa. He also finds the time to mark his territory with mutual acrimony brewing against rookie, Russ Wheeler (Carey Elwes) – the prick of the piece, though not much of a villain. The real difficulty Days of Thunder has is its address of a ‘man against himself’. This never entirely takes off; Cruise, the cocky upstart who defies the odds, faces down his demons and triumphs in the end, is a foregone conclusion from the outset. But it gets diffused along the way by a lot of inelegant subterfuge. Interestingly, Days of Thunder was the movie to bring together Cruise and Kidman – whamo - like a pair of taxis on Broadway, the couple, shortly thereafter, embarking upon a whirlwind romance, culminating in an 11-yr. marriage, to end in divorce in 2001.

Arguably, director, Tony Scott’s career never recovered from Days of Thunder. For although he continued to steadily toil in the art and craft as an irrefutable master of the Hollywood actioner with varying degrees of success, none of his subsequent efforts came close to bottling the insane intensity nor instantly recognizable appeal to have established and lionized his reputation as an A-lister in the industry. On August 19, 2012, Scott leapt from the Vincent Thomas Bridge in Los Angeles, his body later recovered and autopsied to reveal therapeutic levels of the drugs, mirtazapine and eszopiclone - both, well-known to cause suicidal thoughts. Subsequent inferences, Scott had terminal cancer, remain speculative. Irrefutably, Hollywood lost one of its most ambitious and high-profile proponents of the summer blockbuster.  Arguably, Days of Thunder also ushered in the premature last act finale to this type of picture-making – creating a critical backlash for such formulaic offerings; the absolute ‘period’ accelerated by the death of co-producer, Don Simpson in 1996. Despite its elephantine budget and production values, at its core, Days of Thunder ranks as the equivalent of a puff pastry – over-inflated and hearty on the outside, but with not much to offer beyond its superficial appeal. Though steeped in the traditions of NASCAR, the picture is not biographical, even if screenwriter, Towne did borrow elements from the careers of pro-drivers, Tim Richmond and Geoff Bodine to create his fictionalized love/hate relationship between Cole and Rowdy, and later, Cole and Wheeler. The competition street race, depicted in the movie between Cole and Rowdy actually drew its inspiration two-fold – first, from a similar incident involving Dale Earnhardt, Sr. and Geoff Bodine, and second, from early NASCAR superstars, Joe Weatherly and Curtis Turner, well-known to rent, race, and total their rides.

The picture opens with second unit coverage of the actual Daytona 500 under the main titles. From here, we segue to our introduction to NASCAR novice, Cole Trickle; a racer from Eagle Rock, California, whose only ‘experience’ thus far is in open-wheel racing in the United States Auto Club. Recruited by Chevrolet dealership tycoon, Tim Daland (Randy Quaid), who has also brought former crew chief and master car builder, Harry Hogge out of retirement for the occasion, no one is particularly impressed with Cole’s arrival at Charlotte Motor Speedway. That is, until Cole gets behind the wheel and shows the modestly assembled crew the merits of his skill. Harry is impressed. But Rowdy, perhaps wisely assessing a real threat in Cole, takes an immediate dislike to him. Meanwhile, Hogge retreats to his barn to build Cole a new Chevrolet Lumina. High hopes rapidly disintegrate when Cole fails to immediately adapt to the rigors of NASCAR and becomes involved in one embarrassing skirmish after the next on the speedways, blowing out tires, over-revving his engine, and otherwise, making a damn nuisance of himself on the track.  Unearthing that Cole’s lack of experience is directly channeled through his complete lack of understanding basic NASCAR jargon, Harry puts the ingenue through the paces and quickly establishes a rapport that helps Cole gain a toe-hold and presence on the track. Their symbiotic communication pays off at Darlington, when Cole employs a slingshot maneuver to overtake Rowdy, who has been systematically looking for ways to humiliate Cole.  Instead, Cole beats Rowdy at his own game and wins his first race.

The animosity stirred here will continue to fester until the Firecracker 400 at Daytona, when a hellish pile-up causes both Rowdy and Cole to slam, full-force, into the wreckage, in a devastating collision that sends both racers to hospital. While Cole is initially blinded by swelling on the brain, Rowdy’s injuries are infinitely more devastating. Indeed, he will require brain surgery to correct, though never entirely cure, the debilitating physical aftermath of his concussion.  Recovering in hospital at Daytona Beach, Cole becomes enamored with neurosurgeon, Dr. Claire Lewicki. The relationship is hindered by Cole’s ego. After one particularly nasty confrontation with a cab driver, Claire assesses Cole as an irresponsible boy playing at being a man, and, attempts to walk away from their relationship. Nevertheless, the two – predictably – wind up in bed. Meanwhile, NASCAR President, Big John (Fred Dalton Thompson) orders Rowdy and Cole to bury the hatchet. He also forewarns that any failure to do so will result in their permanent suspension from the pro circuit. Superficially, the boys agree, although they take out their frustrations on a competitive race through the streets, totaling a pair of rental cars on route to their prearranged dinner meeting with John. Alas, Cole and Rowdy cannot stay mad at one another and steadily evolve their antagonistic understanding into a friendship. As yet not cleared to race, Cole is bitterly disappointed when Daland hires rookie, Russ Wheeler, presumably as Cole’s temporary replacement. However, when Wheeler proves his mettle on the track, Daland decides to expand and split his endeavors into two teams – placing Cole in direct competition with Wheeler; a move, to infuriate Hogge.  

A new rivalry brews between Cole and Wheeler, who is decidedly out to ruin Cole’s reputation and defeat him. Racing at North Wilkesboro, Wheeler deliberately pulls an underhanded maneuver that costs Cole the race. In reply, Cole takes off after Wheeler while he performs his victory lap, deliberately plowing into his car and totaling both rides, causing Daland to fire Cole on the spot.  Forced to face the fact he must undergo brain surgery for a broken blood vessel, Rowdy asks Cole to drive his car at the Daytona 500 so his sponsors will pay for the year. Cole grudgingly settles and persuades Harry to return as his crew chief. Alas, Harry learns there is metal in the car’s oil pan, a sign of engine failure. Nevertheless, Daland, who still believes in his former driver's promise, offers a replacement engine so Cole can race.  During the race, Wheeler causes Cole’s ride to suffer a malfunctioning transmission. The pit crew spring into action, fixing the problem in record time, thus allowing Cole to continue.  Defying Wheeler’s presumption of another slingshot maneuver from the outside, Cole instead overtakes Wheeler from the inside and wins his first Daytona 500. As he drives into Victory Lane, Cole is surprised to find Claire among the observers. Previously, she had suggested she wanted no part of the nail-biting tension involved in waiting to see if he would return safe.  Now, Cole finds Hogge alone and at a loss for words. The men playfully goad each other, with Hogge challenging Cole to a foot race which Cole accepts.

The making of Days of Thunder was hardly an amicable exercise. Indeed, Simpson, Bruckheimer, Scott, and Towne were in a chronic and heated gridlock throughout the shoot, clashing over matters of artistic taste and temperament, creating epic delays. As Towne was ordered to make revisions to his screenplay, cast and crew sat idle, often for hours at a time, awaiting these rewrites. When Paramount’s unit production manager inquired how much this would set the production back, he was bluntly informed by Simpson and Bruckheimer that the schedule no longer mattered. Such indulgences, while spectacular, paled to the co-producer’s extravagances in Daytona – purchasing a vacant storefront and converting it into a private gym at a cost of $400,000, while Simpson stocked a closet full of Donna Karan dresses to ply his attractive pick-ups, holding private parties on the beach. This, among other expenses directly unrelated to the making of the movie, caused the original $35 million budget to balloon.

Despite overruns and delays, Paramount considered it had another insane Tom Cruise mega-hit on their hands and rather aggressively began to market Days of Thunder. In post-production, the picture also received a rather curious underscore from composer, Hans Zimmer – heavily laden with synthesizers; a sound, more reflective of screen compositions from the early 1980’s than its own vintage.  In the final analysis, Days of Thunder proved itself a middling actioner at best – gussied up in a lot of expensive spit and polish, and, the box office cache of having Tom Cruise in its driver’s seat. Yet, without Cruise, the picture really is much ado about nothing. Does it work? Sort of. Although director, Scott finds new and ingenious ways to put the audience in the driver’s seat along with his star, the racing sequences are all suspiciously alike, making the vignettes of dialogue that bookend each qualifying meet, just ‘more of the same’. The picture is noisy to a fault, with barely a quiet respite wedged between the races, narrowly enough time to establish any of the human alliances we are supposed to care about. The most adequately resolved relationship in the picture is between the novice and the sage - Cole and Hogge. But the most enfeebled remains the roughly resolved romantic stirrings between Cole and Claire, considered only in a token love-making scene, and, with the acrimonious competition blossoming between Cole and Wheeler, the absolute most pointless contrivance of them all. What ought to have been a penultimate exploration of one man facing down, and triumphing over his own inner demons, instead devolves into just another chest-thumping, ego-driven spectacle: two dumb males, stunted in their adolescent resolve to out-do one another.   

Days of Thunder receives a curious 4K release – curious, because it does not contain a copy of the movie on standard Blu-ray, released to home video back in 2014. Why Paramount should have denied us this, when they similarly included a standard Blu along with their 4K debut of Top Gun released concurrently in UHD, is perplexing. Image-wise, the 4K rendering easily bests the aforementioned Blu-ray, showing off Ward Russell’s grit-laden cinematography to its best advantage. Flesh tones are greatly resolved. On the standard Blu, they veered from slightly orange to jaundice yellow. On this 4K reboot, color graded in Dolby Vision and HDR 10, we can now experience the subtler nuances in flesh, sun-kissed, and back lit by the afterglow of a golden afternoon at the race track. Contrast here is excellent, and fine details abound. The visuals have an appropriately grain-heavy appeal that is in keeping with the original 35mm theatrical release. The 5.1 DTS audio is engrossing and deeply immersive. We get an isolated score, and also a scantly produced ‘filmmaker’s focus’ puff piece, barely lasting 6 mins., featuring Jerry Bruckheimer, who is really diffusing his recollections through heavily filtered, rose-colored glasses. Why Paramount should not have included the original theatrical trailer – the only extra on their standard Blu-ray, is beyond me. But hey, Paramount of late has been better known for dumping time-honored extras from their ‘Paramount Presents…’ line – advertised as a collector’s series. So, truthfully, I’m not surprised. Bottom line: Days of Thunder is a passable entertainment. For Cruise fans, this new 4K UHD disc will be nirvana. Others may wish to pass.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

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