Formula One must be the most dangerous of spectator sports. Cars reach speeds in excess of 300km/h, requiring drivers with lightning-fast reflexes, steely nerves, an intuitive feel for the track – and luck. If something goes wrong with your steering column when rounding a bend at 180km/h, no amount of skill will prevent a catastrophe.

Such a sport appeals to larger-than-life personalities who get their kicks from things that would frighten the life out of most of us. It’s a diverse group, in which champions have emerged through winner-take-all contests. In Ron Howard’s Rush (2013) – surely the best feature film about Formula One – James Hunt is a handsome playboy; his opponent, Niki Lauda, is small, abrasive and calculating. Their rivalry resembles a medieval romance played out with late-20th-century technology.