The Rack Pack (2016 film)

Having recently been immersing myself in appreciation of snooker's "golden age" - from the late 1970s through to the early 1990s - I decided to watch the 2016 film "The Rack Pack", a comedy-drama which is set in that era, focusing primarily on the rivalry between Alex "Hurricane" Higgins and Steve Davis.

The early portion of the movie introduces us to the two main protagonists, capturing and invoking the contrast between the freewheeling maverick Higgins and the more reserved and clean-cut Davis. The "retro" settings and stylings are surprisingly convincing, and there is excellent utilization of classic Seventies rock and pop music (Led Zeppelin, T.Rex, The Who, Thin Lizzy etc).

I must say that I was impressed and drawn in by Luke Treadaway's performance as Alex Higgins. Alright, some might argue that he is too good-looking, and that he doesn't always exude the mercurial shakiness of the character. However, he does nail down much of the famed truculence and swagger, and some of the on-table mannerisms. Kevin Bishop is likeable and entertaining in a somewhat "cartoonish" portrayal of Davis' manager, Barry Hearn.

As is often the case with "biopic" type projects, facts, incidents and anecdotes are packed into a condensed timespan. Any inaccuracies and distortions here will only irritate the anoraks and those intimately cognisant of the true history and chronology. Allowances must be made for the comedy element of this production.

The snooker scenes are very realistic and credible, leaving me wondering whether the actors might have been selected for their roles because they had some modicum of proficiency at the game.

In emphasizing the contrasts in temperament, approach and playing style between the two main players, the film-makers may have slightly over-laboured the supposed "nerdiness" and squareness of the young Steve Davis. This was probably done to entrench the notion that the two men represented polar opposites.

A major sub-plot in "The Rack Pack" is the increasingly corporate and commercial nature of snooker, as orchestrated by Barry Hearn, Higgins' perceived exclusion and alienation from that milieu, and the increasing bitterness and resentment which consequently built up within him. Indeed, though this is ostensibly a work which chronicles and examines the Higgins-Davis dynamic, much of the most vibrant and penetrating dialogue is that between the Higgins and Hearn characters.

The one scene which rather jarred with me was the one featuring a nightclub "altercation" between the Hurricane and Cliff Thorburn. Did anything remotely like this actually happen in reality?  A few things like this were doubtless added for dramatic effect, like they are in many similar pictures, and they didn't really tarnish my overall appreciation of the piece.

Another intriguing sub-text is a depiction of the relationship between Alex Higgins and Jimmy White, the latter gradually inheriting the mantle of "People's Champion" from the former. The narrative seems to imply that White learned from some of the mistakes of his "mentor", being prepared to make minor concessions to pragmatism and conformity in order to fit in with a changing sport and a changing world.

The decline of Higgins is, I would contend, quite deftly, touchingly and sensitively handled in this movie. It dovetailed with one of the central messages of the film, about the "cultural" tensions and the changing of the times.  Alex played a pivotal role in creating and popularizing modern snooker, but found himself being marginalized and left behind as others prospered both on and off the table.

Overall, I found "The Rack Pack" to be an enjoyable and well-produced film. It concentrates mostly on the personalities and the human aspects, rather than the intricacies of snooker itself, and largely succeeds as a result.

The Russians Are Coming - (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Another notable episode from the first series of "Only Fools and Horses" is "The Russians Are Coming", in which the Trotters build their own nuclear fall-out shelter.

The premise of "The Russians Are Coming" is not exactly original, as lots of movies, television shows, comedies and the like were eagerly tapping into unease and paranoia about the Cold War and nuclear weapons in the early and mid-1980s. In the event, this episode contains some of the most affecting observations and passages of any of the show's plot-lines. Their impact and poignancy is perhaps heightened by the humour with which they are surrounded and occasionally clothed.

The plot stems from a business deal concluded by Del, a by-product of which results in him inadvertently "acquiring" an experimental "do it yourself" atomic fall-out shelter. The family decides to assemble it and spend some time living in it, as their own form of emergency planning.

Following an amusing effort to replicate the panic of the four-minute warning, and a simulation of the journey to a prospective location of refuge, the story really takes off when Del, Rodney and Grandad are safely ensconced in the shelter itself. The logistics and practicalities of surviving Armageddon are the source of some good, strong material. The highlight is perhaps Grandad's monologue about the true nature and horrors of war, delivered to chastise and rebuke Del for some of his excessively gung-ho and glib talk on the subject.

Whenever the subject matter threatens to become too serious and heavy, John Sullivan's comedic genius kicks in, and the mood lightens. The "captive" situation in the shelter creates an atmosphere conducive to sharp, taut and rich exchanges, and all three of the actors are on fine form, with great use of lighting to accentuate the intimacy. There is a noticeable absence of filler or padding in the script, and the shelter sequences are indeed very concentrated, fluent and absorbing. A real high point of the early days of OFAH, on more than one level.

Some speculation on the likely social consequences of a nuclear war adds to this episode's resonance and charm. Besides the humorous ruminations on the likely effects of the feared catastrophe, this is an intelligent and finely judged piece of work, addressing a difficult and emotive topic with more simplicity ,honesty and acuity than many more "serious" works arising from that era. It is also highly entertaining and funny.

Big Brother (Only Fools and Horses episode)

Recently, I have started re-watching episodes of the great British sitcom "Only Fools and Horses", and thought I would put together some articles on noteworthy or important episodes.

For the uninitiated, "Only Fools And Horses" followed the lives, loves, fortunes and misfortunes of the Trotter family from London. They eke out a living by market-trading and assorted black-market activities, engaging in various "schemes" which they hope will make them into millionaires.  The two main characters are Derek "Del Boy" Trotter (played by David Jason) and his younger brother Rodney (Nicholas Lyndhurst).

Starting from the beginning, let's take a look at the very first episode of the first series, entitled "Big Brother".....

The first thing which I noticed was the state of the characters. Del Boy in particular is nowhere near as rounded and subtle an entity in these early days as he would later become.  Del even displays signs of "sophistication", and there is not always the requisite dose of bathos to balance things out. Traits which would become familiar are under-cooked and undeveloped. There were rough edges to smooth over before the character found its comforting, natural and pleasing equilibrium. The same applies to the character of Trigger. The path to the "polished" characterizations would be uneven.

It is perhaps unsurprising that these early episodes were erratic in quality and atmosphere, as any ambitious brand new concept has to be given time to find its feet and evolve. Even the talents of David Jason and Nicholas Lyndhurst don't always transcend the issues.

The tone in these early days was darker and grittier than the later seasons, and the humour was not as homely. As others have observed, some of the dialogue, and its delivery, seemed forced at times, at odds with the seamlessness, freshness and naturalness which would later become one of the hallmarks of "Only Fools and Horses".

Although the plot of this opening episode ostensibly concerns a batch of "dodgy" briefcases, it is really a vehicle for introducing us to some of the elements of the "situation" in the sitcom, and to the relationship between Del and Rodney in particular. Bits of exposition and back-story are liberally sprinkled amongst the narrative.

"Big Brother" invokes one of the strands which permeates the show through all its incarnations - Rodney's yearning to escape from the shadow of Del, to achieve more independence, in this case by running away. However, Rodney usually ends up returning to "the fold".  By the same token, Del, although on the surface confident and self-reliant, is somehow incomplete and lacking in zest without his brother as his sidekick. Expediency and brotherly love both have a bearing on this.

The "Grandad" character, so beautifully played by Lennard Pearce, hits the ground running, fully formed, more than the other participants, partly because of the nature of the actor's performance, and partly because the Grandad persona was less complicated and intricate.

Making some allowances, this is still quite a weak and unsatisfying episode, not as watchable even as some of the other episodes in the first season, which betray more of the OFAH charm and depth. This is "Only Fools and Horses" in raw, incipient, prototype form.

You would have been hard pressed in 1981 to envisage it achieving classic and culturally iconic status in the UK. It must have seemed like something which might be confined to a cult following or a niche. "Big Brother" is still worth seeing, for curiosity value, and as a measure of just how far John Sullivan and his creation traveled in the years which followed.

Hot Space - Queen (1982 album) - review

Following on from my recent blog post about my attendance at Queen's 1982 show at Elland Road, Leeds,  I thought that I would take a look at the album which they had released shortly before that concert, Hot Space.

This was Queen's first "proper" studio album for two years, which in those days seemed (to me) like an eternity, but by modern standards this would be no big deal.

I can't really remember whether there were signals in advance of the musical direction which the record would signify, but in the end it turned out to be a mixture of decided funk and dance influences, with some more "traditional" Queen sounds alongside.  In some ways this was a more pronounced and decisive take on the blend which had been represented by 1980's The Game.

This album is sometimes seen as the album which triggered a period of uncertainty and soul-searching for the group. It met with a lukewarm critical (and in some territories, commercial) reception, and these factors may all have contributed to a crisis of confidence, and a lack of direction, which were not fully remedied until Live Aid in 1985.

Looking back now, to me the record stands up reasonably well. The sound, in its breeziness and exuberance, is very much "of its time", but the continuing excursions into more rhythmic styles met with mixed results. I think the inventiveness and stylishness of the production tend to obscure the lack of fresh and potent ideas in the songwriting department.

Of the "dance" orientated pieces, only "Back Chat" really works, not because it is an outstanding composition, but because of the atmospheric production, and the effort which was evidently expended on arriving at the finished article. "Staying Power" worked much better in concert, and "Body Language" remains as puzzling to me now as it was over thirty years ago.

The two Roger Taylor songs, "Action This Day" and "Calling All Girls" are likeable but minor.  "Life Is Real (Song For Lennon), has some intriguing lyrics, but comes across as rather "Queen by numbers".

"Put Out The Fire", a basic rocker, perhaps heralds the beginning of a shift in Brian May's songwriting efforts from the mainly introspective towards a greater emphasis on social commentary. The inclusion of "Under Pressure" almost occurred to me as a rather tired gesture, as it had always seemed to me as a "standalone" single, and putting it as the final track on Hot Space felt like an admission that the creative well was running somewhat dry.

So I would contend that Hot Space is greater than the sum of its individual parts. Although it is by common consent one of the weaker records released by the band, the freshness of its production, and the diversity of the material, make it an interesting listen to this day.

1982 - The Inside Story of the Sensational Grand Prix season - Christopher Hilton

I remember that during the 2012 Formula 1 season, relative neophytes were speculating that we were experiencing perhaps the most dramatic and unpredictable Grand Prix year ever.  Those people had evidently not been around in 1982. Christopher Hilton's book, published in 2007, captures the turbulence and tragedy of that extraordinary season.

For me, the 1982 campaign was in large part coloured, and tarnished, by the death of Gilles Villeneuve, who was one of my first heroes in life. I distinctly remember crying on the day of his accident, staring into space at the end of our driveway, on a warm spring evening.  However, as time has passed I have grown to recognize how that season did have some redeeming features.

The material about the drivers' strike in South Africa is fascinating, in that it suggests that the views of many of the drivers were ambivalent. They were caught between concerns of principle and solidarity and the imperatives of ambition and avarice.  There are some interesting theories about Niki Lauda's motives, too. The strike is also placed within the context of the wider, momentous power struggle which was ongoing within the sport at that time.  A healthy selection of quotes from drivers and other personnel helps to paint the picture.

The chapter dealing with the Belgian Grand Prix in May contains much harrowing but gripping testimony about the events of that tragic qualifying session at Zolder.  Similarly, the passages documenting the Canadian Grand Prix, the scene of Ricardo Paletti's fatal accident, are moving and affecting. It is good that the author went to the trouble of researching Paletti's background and racing career.

Reading the quotes and recollections in this book, it occurs to me that in the 1980s, Grand Prix drivers were more worldly men than they are today. Maybe I think in these terms because the drivers in those days were much older than me, whereas nowadays I am many years their senior. People such as Derek Warwick and John Watson impress with their honesty and roundedness. Making allowances, one would have to say that, thirty-odd years ago, the goldfish bowl was less overpowering, and the world was a different place.

"1982" also offers a persuasive reminder that technological progress has made things too "perfect" and "infallible" to be interesting and uncertain on an "organic" level. Variables and imponderables are banished, and much of the soul and raw excitement extracted.

The heterogeneous nature of the venues, the media coverage and so forth is another part of the backdrop to this work, No identikit tracks, podium ceremonies, pit and paddock complexes, and the like.

Hilton relates some great tales, such as the Toleman "half-tanks" ploys and the Derek Daly "short cut" at Dijon. More innocent times, but in keeping with many aspects of this book, I get the impression that the people involved have been made less guarded and equivocal, and more candid, in their recollections by the passage of time.

It seems to me that, in a Formula 1 sense at least, the 1980s had not truly arrived in 1982.  I tend to see this as happening in 1984, with the full flowering of the Ron Dennis/TAG/Lauda/Prost era at McLaren.  Things became more clinical and orderly, and rough edges were smoothed over. The years 1982 and 1983, by contrast,  still exuded elements of the Seventies. A transitional, confusing, but vibrant time.

Christopher Hilton's book, lavishly illustrated and well-researched, evokes those times vividly.

Raging Bull (1980)

I recently watched Raging Bull, Martin Scorsese's 1980 biopic of the boxer Jake LaMotta, starring Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Cathy Moriarty. Here are a few of my thoughts on the movie....

The film has a distinctive and strong visual appeal, partially based on it being in black and white. Somehow the grittiness, and occasional brutality, of the tale is conveyed much more strongly that way. The film has a great period feel, and not just traceable to the monochrome being chosen. The "retro" settings are beautifully realized and convincing, unlike many movies of this type.

Raging Bull's fight sequences are very famous, and justifiably so, but they take up less of the picture's running time than some people might imagine. Much more of the film is taken up with a compelling, and sometimes unsettling, examination of LaMotta's insecurities and demons.

Of the boxing scenes, some are quite graphic, the final encounter with Sugar Ray Robinson standing out in this respect. These parts of the film, including the crowd scenes, are also well produced, succeeding where so many other sports-orientated pictures fall down. The scenes in the ring are short and snappy, and not quite as "arty" and surreal as is often thought.

In some ways, I think that Raging Bull is a slow burner, and its early stages could strike some observers as slow and pedestrian.  However, its greatness gradually emerges as it goes along, and the stellar performance of Robert De Niro has a strong bearing on this. Strangely enough, he is so consummate, natural and plausible in the role that the brilliance of his portrayal of the boxer can almost pass unnoticed. Of course, Joe Pesci shines in the part of LaMotta's brother Joey, as does Cathy Moriarty as Jake's wife. Whatever happened to Cathy Moriarty, by the way?

This may be a film whose true impact can only be fully absorbed following a few repeated viewings. The "human interest" angles mean that one does not need to be a boxing aficionado to enjoy and embrace it. It can also be argued that it is one of the last examples of a golden age of American cinema which began in the late Sixties.

All in all, a gripping and powerful work.

WarGames - (1983 movie) - review

Over three years ago now, I wrote an article about the 1983 movie WarGames , but much of that post was taken up with my incoherent ramblings about Cold War politics and the like. So here are some more random thoughts about this film, which remains one of my favourites from the 1980s....

To recap, WarGames tells the story of David Lightman, a high school student who inadvertently hacks into the American nuclear defence system.

The opening scenes, showing the launch procedure which turned out to be a drill, are taut with tension and drama. There is great use of lighting and close-up shots of the actors. I always get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when watching this scene, imagining the inner thoughts of people caught up in that situation, no matter how well trained they are.

Aside from the subject matter, the centrepiece of the picture for me is the very mature performance of Matthew Broderick as David Lightman. He is a rounded and likeable character, and perhaps not the stereotypical "nerd" in some respects.  Yes, he has some of the characteristics of a nerd, but in other ways not, for example in his ability to impress and attract Jennifer (Ally Sheedy). The chemistry between the two young actors helps to carry the movie.

David's attitude towards authority figures, such as teachers and his parents, is intriguing. The sign on his bedroom door (This Is A Secure Area - Authorized Entry Only - No Exceptions) illustrates this point. Occasional insolence and mild rebellion, added to more passive gestures of defiance and individuality?

If the portrayal of American high school life in the 1980s was in any way accurate, then I must conclude that I was born on the wrong side of the Atlantic. I would dearly love to have been able to go to school in a tee-shirt and jeans, and not the dreary uniform that I was forced to wear here in England. Also, the school buildings in the movie looked much more inviting than the dilapidated mausoleum in which much of my education took place.

It is easy, especially in hindsight, to make pedantic "technical" queries about the accuracy or plausibility of things which happen in the film, and how the computing environment of the early 1980s was depicted. Was David's computer stuff cobbled together from kit-form purchases, second hand gear, and so forth?  His equipment was certainly superior to anything which myself or any of my peers had at home. David clearly knew people who worked in I.T., as evidenced by the amusing scene where he consults two friends at a local company.

There were bits of the film which I really identified with from my own youth. The scene at the dinner table where David is reading a computer magazine, oblivious to parental strictures, reminds me of the days when I would bury myself in those magazines, and the adverts, promising imminent delights, were sometimes more diverting than the actual content.

Back in the day, we had heard about the sort of activities which David was engaging in, although it all seemed rather remote and exotic. One or two friends of mine had outlandish plans to run modems with primitive home computers such as the Sinclair ZX81. However, at the end of the day, all we wanted to do was play games...

The scenes in David's room, when he and Jennifer are fooling around on the machine, are delightfully executed. Lighting, reflections and sound effects are all cleverly used to envoke that seductive world.

The odd little touch stands out in the film. When David and Jennifer first break into the defence system, and the list of games appears on the screen, there is a slight pause, and a gap, before the title "Global Thermonuclear War" comes up. A sense of foreboding is created, and this initiates the next phase of the movie.

A word too about the electronic music which appears throughout WarGames. This type of music was still quite a rarity in movies back then, and it nicely complements the narrative and the subject matter.

Looking at the David Lightman character, he in many ways represents what I wished I'd been at that age. Self-sufficient, inquisitive , forever seeking out knowledge. His efforts in finding information about Falken, and then tracking him down towards the end of the film, show these qualities. Again, not as much an awkward, shy computer geek, as one smart kid.

Another notable scene involves a striking juxtaposition of emotions.  David returns home to be congratulated on his excellent grades (achieved in large part by hacking into the school's computer), whilst at the time same time seeing a television news report of the drama which he, unwittingly, had triggered.

The scene where he is arrested is also captured concisely and sharply. David emerges from a store, and suddenly various (what turn out to be FBI) men are closing in from all directions. One can sense his fear, anxiety and confusion, but as we see, his resourcefulness is not hindered for very long.

Some people have queried whether David would have been taken to the NORAD facility in the wake of his arrest. Surely he would have been transported to some FBI location? Admittedly, the method of his escape from the "mountain", blending in with a tour party, is also a little far-fetched. In the grand scheme of things, however, this does not spoil my enjoyment. This is entertainment, not a documentary.

I was seriously impressed at how David was able to memorize Falken's address. He only seemed to view it for barely a second or two on the terminal in McKittrick's office! Perhaps a photographic memory can be added to his formidable list of powers....

The WOPR (the big computer at the war room) clearly worked on the unimpeachable principle that processing power should be directly proportional to the number of brightly flashing coloured lights which it possesses...

Mention should also be made of perhaps the most visually appealing scene in the movie, the bit where David is dropped off by a splendid logging truck at a stunning location in the middle of nowhere, and proceeds to make a call from a 'phone box. By the way, where did Jennifer get the money to pay for their airline tickets?

The belated appearance of Falken "in the flesh" is a highlight, and adds some gravitas to the proceedings. The final scenes in the "war room" are brilliantly done.  Even though we kind of know the outcome, the tension is palpable.

An underrated film, this. I still love watching it. To me, it never gets old....

Rubik's Cube

A few days ago I was seized by the urge to purchase one of these:

Sure enough, earlier today I went out and bought myself one. Strangely enough, during the Rubik's Cube craze of the 1980s, I had my enthusiasm for the whole thing well under control. I owned one of course, but fairly early on in the piece I was somewhat discouraged by the realisation that several of my friends were disturbingly proficient at unlocking the solution to the cube's mysteries. Peer pressure and bragging rights being what they are at that age, I evinced disinterest and apathy, and quietly detached myself.

Now, three decades later, I can truly appreciate the greatness of the cube, its design, and its educational and spiritual benefits. In fact, I would go as far as to say that it was the last truly worthwhile and genuinely substantial "craze" or fad of its type, in that it is indisputably benign and a force for good in the world.

Dire Straits

Just the other day, I stumbled across the music of Dire Straits again, and it occurred to me that they have been a bit forgotten amongst the public and music pundits.  I must admit that I myself had got away from listening to their stuff in recent years, but decided to take the time to revisit their studio work.

 

It is easy to forget how "cool" Dire Straits were, in relative terms, up until the mid-1980s. This status appeared to be diminished when they were perceived to have moved away from their earlier sound, perhaps in aiming to engage with a wider audience.

 

They achieved genuine global superstardom with the success of "Brothers in Arms". This album became notable, or perhaps notorious, as the one which untold millions bought in the mid-to-late 1980s in order to initiate themselves into the new-fangled technological wonderland of the compact disc. I vividly recall lunchtime visits to the home of a school friend, in order that we could gather round and listen with awe to the introduction to "Your Latest Trick", in pristine digital quality. The album came to be identified, rather harshly I thought, with safe conformity and the corporate face of rock music.

 

This was all a far cry from the gritty and earthy charms of their first couple of albums. The eponymous debut effort betrays an ethos somewhat "pub rock" in nature, with an impeccable list of other influences (JJ Cale, Clapton, Dylan, Ry Cooder etc). The broodingly atmospheric sound and lyrics draw the listener in, often reflecting the seamier side of life. The expressively brittle guitar of Mark Knopfler is prominent, of course, but is used sparingly and tastefully. Of course, "Sultans of Swing" is the best-known track here, but "Wild West End" is also a little gem.

 

With the sophomore release, "Communique", the sound becomes marginally richer and more varied, though the subject matter remains pretty much the same. The song "Lady Writer", perhaps even more than "Sultans of Swing", exemplifies the appeal and essence of the early Dire Straits sound, although the guitar is captured with greater clarity and bite, and the level of melodic subtlety and gloss are magnified. Of the other numbers, "Portobello Belle" stands out, in some ways pointing the way ahead for the band.

 

1980's "Making Movies" has a more "cinematic" flavour. Indeed, the title itself may have been an acknowledgement of this. There is an increased self-confidence about the band, and this displays itself clearly on the opening track, "Tunnel Of Love", arguably the group's finest achievement. The augmentation of the sound with more keyboards is another sign of this blossoming, and of a desire to branch out and diversify. I have heard it suggested that songs such as this, and also "Skateaway" and "Hand In Hand" for example, owe something to Bruce Springsteen's tunes, and this is hard to dispute, although "Tunnel Of Love" and others are also a logical and natural development of the themes and trends shown on the earlier records. On this third album, the impression which I am left with is more blue-collar romanticism than the almost seedy realism of the first two LPs.

One thing which you have to admit is that Dire Straits did not stand still, and each album has a distinct individual feel to it, and "Love Over Gold" sees an emphasis on longer, more experimental songs. These tracks seem to have worked excellently in the concert setting, though they must have further alienated those who had been reared on the immediacy and gutsiness of the early albums. The band was using the augmented instrumentation to paint pictures and create an atmosphere, the most notable examples being "Telegraph Road" and "Private Investigations". This is probably the "forgotten" Dire Straits album as far as the general public is concerned, as it did not feature much in the way of snappy, catchy hit singles.

I'm not sure whether "Brothers In Arms" signified a reaction to the "excesses" of "Love Over Gold", but the songs are more concise, and one or two of the numbers are more frivolous lyrically. The record is beautifully crafted and produced, and the compositions are generally strong and entertaining, but they have neither the genuine earthiness of the first two albums, or the sweep and emotional pull of the next two. Having said that, it is hard not to like the sophistication and melancholy of "Your Latest Trick", the jaunty "Walk Of Life" or the eerie title track.  It is noticeable how the guitar sound has changed - was this something to do with the types of guitars being used by Mark Knopfler?

To me, the final studio album "On Every Street", which emerged after the band had effectively broken up and taken a sabbatical,  sounds a little tired. Not that the band was going through the motions, but perhaps they themselves must have sensed that the game was up, and that it was time to move on definitively. To their credit, they have not indulged in any big "cash-in" reunions.  The nature of Mark Knopfler's side projects even during the lifetime of Dire Straits perhaps indicated where his musical heart truly lay....

 

Some might contend that Dire Straits at some point "sold out".  I don't subscribe to this notion. Their music never became fundamentally more shallow than it had been before, it just kept evolving and shifting naturally, retaining a certain integrity throughout, and their work was generally credible and sincere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chariots Of Fire

A movie which I feel is somewhat forgotten nowadays is Chariots Of Fire, which recounts the exploits of two British athletes, Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell, at the 1924 Olympic Games in Paris. To be honest, I had largely forgotten it myself until recently, when I dug out my DVD, and gave it another watch.

 

 

The stamp of quality is established in the early scene in which some of the athletes are seen running on a beach. It remains as beautiful and powerful a set of images now as it was over three decades ago, conveying the effort but also the nobility and purity of sport before the advent of professionalism and cynicism. 

 

It is significant, not to say poignant, that this film was released in the early 1980s, just as athletics, and Olympic sport in general, was at the dawn of its transformation to a more commercial, less innocent state. In stressing these "Corinthian" values however, it must also be emphasised that Chariots Of Fire explores these issues cleverly, and in a subtle manner. This is best exemplified by the scene where Abrahams is summoned to dinner with a couple of the "elders" of Cambridge University. He is taken to task for employing a "professional" coach, and for adopting a too single-minded and uncompromising approach. Abrahams' superb rejoinder was to tell his critics that he still adhered to admirable principles of honour and fairness, whilst also striving for absolute excellence. So, even in the 1920s, the dynamic of "traditional" and "modern" was not so clear-cut. It seems to me that the ethos expounded by Harold Abrahams is timeless and pretty hard to fault...

In general, I think that the sub-texts are dealt with in a subtle and adroit way. Eric Liddell's religious inclinations, and their impact on his running, are to a large degree couched in terms of universal human aspirations and concerns. Similarly, the conception of Abrahams as something of an outsider, in part because of his Jewish background, is addressed frankly but deftly, illustrating the social climate and prejudices of those times, and also how the sprinter channelled his frustrations and resentment into proving himself on the track. Some of the most revealing, if less ostentatious, scenes in the picture are the ones where the two athletes attempt to explain their motivations and mind-set to friends and relatives...

The acting is of a high order, but none of those in the major roles stands out to the extent of stealing the show;they are generally of equal ability. This may be one of the hidden secrets of the movie's appeal, allowing the script and the "situation" to stand largely by themselves. To my mind, Ben Cross has never received sufficient credit for his measured performance as Harold Abrahams. It must be added that the presence of Ian Holm and John Gielgud provides some gravitas and depth.

Chariots Of Fire is very English, but there is an unspoken feeling of the contradictions and tensions which had begun to pervade Englishness (and Britishness), in particular the increasing independence of thought of youth, and its reluctance to unquestioningly embrace the values and attitudes which had hitherto predominated - this was not long after World War One, remember. In some ways, it is surprising that this angle is not pushed more openly, although it is discernible just beneath the surface.

Much has been made of the odd liberty which was taken with historical fact, but let's face it, which "biopic" or similar project does not bend the real story to some extent?  It is refreshing to watch a film whose strength is in the writing, the acting and the story, and which does not rely on special effects or pushy moralizing. The memorable music of Vangelis complements the images perfectly, being both dignified and timeless.

To the 21st century audience, the action sequences may seen dated, but it can be argued I think that this film invented many of the clichés which have since become so commonplace! The slow-motion stuff does encapsulate vividly the strain, agony and drama of Olympic competition. Also, those types of shots are used sparingly.

Chariots Of Fire is that comparatively rare phenomenon, a "feel-good" movie which has an underlying thread of quality, and which also has some profound things to say....

 

 

 

 

 

The Professionals

Well, after blogging on the question of Starsky and Hutch, I have been giving attention to what some regarded as their British equivalent, The Professionals.

It is in fact debatable whether The Professionals can be directly compared to Starsky and Hutch. The former also contained elements of both The Sweeney and James Bond!  The characters can be seen to have counterparts in the famous American series. For Starsky read Doyle; sometimes cynical, but idealistic and occasionally volatile. For Hutch read Bodie;the strong, silent type but intensely loyal to his partner.

The plot-lines often seemed like cartoonish, less plausible portrayals of contemporary themes, particularly Cold War espionage, urban guerillas and gangland activity. In fairness some of the topics covered swung a lamp over the future, suggesting the possibility of terrorism by lone fanatics, biological and chemical attacks and the increasing ferocity of drugs gangs.

It is difficult to escape the conclusion that some of the storylines were embellished for shock value, because the reality was a touch too mundane. The social issues (drugs, vice and corruption), however, were handled with some sensitivity and balance.

One amusing aspect of the programme was the way that it placed the British motor industry of the 1970s in a favourable light. No end of Ford Capris and sporty Escorts and Triumphs could be seen whizzing around in the hands of either CI5 themselves or the villains of the piece!

No mobile phones back then, of course!  The venerable public call box was much in evidence, and most of the other communication was done via humble walkie-talkies, although we did get the occasional glimpse of futuristic James-Bondesque communications technology.

Looking back at The Professionals, one criticism would be the unconvincing dialogue exchanged between Bodie and Doyle. It seemed contrived and lacking in idealism, hardly the sort of words to come from the mouths of an ex-policeman and a former solider, no matter how elite they had now become.

Based on my recent viewing of some episodes, Lewis Collins emerges with more kudos as an actor than I had previously accorded him. This belies his image as an "action hero".

One thing which the producers achieved was to convey the peculiarly sinister and claustrophobic atmosphere of the London of that time.  Leafy suburban streets, urban tower blocks and industrial wastelands provided a gritty backdrop to the action.