Eddie The Eagle (2015 film)

 A film which I had intended to see upon its release, but which somehow slipped away from my attention, was 'Eddie The Eagle', a biopic which tells the story of the British ski-jumper Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards.

To summarize, Edwards achieved international prominence and attention in 1988 through his appearance at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary. His struggle to achieve his dream, and his determination to compete captured the public imagination for a short while.

I remember the 'Eddie The Eagle' phenomenon very well, as I was a very avid follower of all sports at the time, that is 1988. I'm not sure whether this was a particularly instructive example of the amateur ideal, because even in the 1980s there were 'elite', successful athletes in the Olympics who were still, to a lesser or greater degree, 'amateur'. No, I think that the draw of the 'Eddie the Eagle' story was that he was an 'everyman' figure, someone who the blue-collar audience could relate to and identify with, having his moment of fame, and making the most of it, not always acting in the way which was expected.

Anyway, I recently got around to watching the 'Eddie The Eagle' movie at last. One of the first things which was noticeable to me was that the production values were of a quite high order. Visually it is a pleasing work, and the CGI and other effects tend to complement the story rather than acting as a distraction. 

Importantly, the makers did not try too hard to make everything look 'very' 1970s or 1980s, and so evaded a failing which weighs down quite a few biopics of this type. The scene is set, and some context introduced, early on with some 'flashback' sequences illustrating the younger Eddie's Olympic aspirations and his efforts to overcome adversity. 

Taron Egerton gives an endearing and plausible performance as Eddie, capturing some of the loveable naivete and the persistence of the character, as well as instilling some nice comedic touches throughout. The scenes set in the Edwards family home familiarize us with idea that they are honest, down-to-earth people, without romanticizing this unnecessarily.

One of the keys to the narrative for me was that Eddie was resolutely serious about his ski-jumping endeavours, whilst all around him people were laughing and expressing disdain. By the standards of many biopics the script was crisp, and even if the dialogue was (very) occasionally corny, some of it was sharp and impactful.

There is the obligatory 'training montage', although this one is quite amusing, and in another parallel with the 'Rocky' films, a central mentor-pupil theme. In this case the mentor/coach is played by Hugh Jackman. The Bronson Peary character is fictional, incidentally, but hey this is a frequent occurrence in biopics....

One false note for me was struck by the characterisations of the British Olympic officials and some of the British competitors at the '88 Winter games. For me this was a slightly clumsy attempt to present the story as one of Eddie against The World, or at least Eddie versus The Establishment. An over-simplification, in all probability, but such over-simplifications are often deemed necessary by film-makers or their overlords in order to create 'tension' and 'conflict'.

Of the supporting cast, I thought that Keith Allen was very likeable as Eddie's father, expressing concern that the young man is neglecting his "normal" career, but ultimately being proud of Eddie's achievements. Jim Broadbent pops up as a TV commentator.

The heart of the film for me was the period which Eddie spent training and learning his craft in Germany. Here we see how Eddie's unaffectedness and uncomplicated tenacity endear him to some people, but also how he is ridiculed and patronised by some of the top-drawer competitors in his chosen sport.  The Petra character quickly takes up Eddie's cause, although his 'coach' Peary takes some work before fully becoming a convert. Petra and Bronson are, you might say, stock characters, but they are vital in facilitating the forward propulsion and development of the story.

I would say that the decision to base so much of the screen time at the German location was an astute one, as it lent some continuity and stability to the narrative, and there is the bonus of some very pleasant scenery.

The scenes set at the Winter Olympics at Calgary are a touch flimsy, but this is common with movies falling under this category. There is some cursory exploration of the notion that other athletes thought that Eddie was receiving too much adulation and attention, but very little about the fears that he was falling prey to people interested in 'using' him for commercial purposes; I distinctly remember the latter being a centrepiece of the media coverage about Eddie in 1988.

I think that the film, intentionally or otherwise, evoked the slightly surreal nature of the Eddie Edwards episode which I recollect from 1988, a story which arguably cannot be repeated today. 

Overall, I enjoyed it, and it had more substance and heart-warming appeal than I had expected. It got across the idea that 'ordinary' people might not be able to achieve success measured in terms of gold medals or their equivalent but simply striving to be involved and included can invigorate and ennoble them, and act as an example to others, but the idea was communicated here without being preachy or heavy-handed.

Sebastian Coe - Coming Back - David Miller

Recently I have been going through a concerted phase of reading about the Olympic Games, and middle-distance running in particular.  This led me to delve deep into my "archives" to re-read the book "Sebastian Coe - Coming Back", by David Miller, published in 1984.

This is not a biography as such, but it documents that phase in Coe's career from the end of the 1981 season through to the aftermath of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. It examines the runner's recovery from two years of illness and injury to retain his Olympic 1500 metres title.

What makes this work doubly interesting is that it covers a period when the sport of track and field athletics itself was going through a time of transition, when commercialism was being allowed to rise to the surface, and when inevitable growing pains were being encountered. Indeed, there are several instances here where those commercial pressures seemed somewhat at odds with the long-term interests of certain British athletes.

Coe was dogged by misfortune and setbacks in 1982 and 1983, and his often turbulent relations with the British press are examined here, as he is written off, and parts of Fleet Street revert to their traditional practice of knocking sports stars when they are down. A hardening of Coe's attitude reached its culmination in his famous gestures to the press box after crossing the finishing line in the 1500 metres final in Los Angeles.

This focus on his dealings with the media is just a part of a wider look at the Coe psyche and temperament. He displayed a resilience and a resourcefulness which many were unaware he possessed, in overcoming adversity to regain past glories. By the time of the '84 Olympics, one becomes aware of a serenity, almost, mixed with a confident resolve to succeed.

Another interesting aspect of this book is its close look at the training methods employed by Coe and his father/coach Peter, and how these were modified to suit the special circumstances of 1984. It becomes apparent how consummately he had peaked for his second Olympics, although I am left wondering how much the problems of 1983 might have actually played a role, by dictating the time when the athlete could begin serious running again.

Reading a book published in 1984 allows one to be "wise after the event.".  The author, for example, assumes in his calculations about the post-1984 athletics landscape that the Soviet Union and East Germany would still exist by the centenary Olympics of 1996. Also, Coe's proposed move up to the 5000 metres event, much discussed within these pages, never really materialized.  Also, he did eventually capture that cherished major title over 800 metres (at the 1986 European Championships in Stuttgart).

An enjoyable and interesting read, this one.

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 Winter Olympics - More Thoughts

So, "Team GB" (sounds a bit Orwellian, doesn't it?) has now garnered a grand total of four medals. The leader writers and columnists are doubtless already preparing their articles presenting this as an unmitigated triumph, and a ringing endorsement of some political credo or social philosophy.

Far be it from me to sound cynical, but is it really a triumph?. Full credit to those athletes who have won medals, or who have put in good performances, but should a country of Britain's population and wealth, albeit one with relatively little in the way of mountains, snow and ice, be hailing this medal tally as a great achievement?  I would argue that Britain should be much better than it is at, for example, figure skating. "We" should also be capable of raising a half-decent ice hockey team, which is deemed worthy of competing at the Olympics. The less charitable might aver that Britain concentrates its efforts on the more minority, less competitive events where there is a greater possibility of success, and resultant propaganda value.

As I said at the time of London 2012, the whole "Team GB" phenomenon, and the public hysteria which goes with it, worries me. It seems to me that there is a concerted effort by some of those in charge, and by their acolytes in the media, to use Britain's "success" in Olympic sports especially as an instrument for shaping opinion, and unfortunately lots of people who should know better fall for it, allowing the warm glow of euphoria imbued by a few shiny medals to stand in for cool, detached and rational thinking.

The constant refrain "be inspired" really grates too, as if everybody feels under some obligation to utter it at strategic moments, for fear of being branded churlish, reactionary or not "on message".  It's just a shame that people are not asked to "be inspired" to do things such as read books and think more critically.

I would love to know whether a similar situation prevails in other European countries...

The Winter Olympics

After a cautious start, I am really enjoying the Winter Olympics now.

One of the main virtues of the "ice and snow Olympiad" is that it is more compact, not being the sprawling monster which its summer cousin has become. Many of the sports provide genuine spectacle, either through the hazards involved or the intricate skills required to succeed.

Living in Britain, these Games have supplied an antidote to some of the nauseating flag-waving nonsense which we had to endure around London 2012. As Britain, despite the protestations of some media folk to the contrary, is generally pretty useless at most Winter Olympic pursuits, it is possible to enjoy the coverage without being totally saturated with jingoism and insularity.  It still irks me, however, to see the media concentrate on some "plucky Brit" who finishes 37th, whilst some majestic performance up-front is almost totally disregarded.

Another thing which is becoming abundantly clear over time is how the face of the Winter Olympics is changing.  When I was young, the lion's share of the attention was allocated to Alpine ski-ing, figure skating and so on.  In recent times, the newer, more "trendy" and youth-oriented events such as snowboarding, freestyle ski-ing and skeleton have come more and more to the fore and, who knows, could even supplant the "blue riband" events in prestige before too long. As commercial considerations hold such sway these days, I can only see this as inevitable. The purists may not be happy, but are there any purists left? Judging by the hysteria on social media, curling is destined to become the new football!

Franz Klammer, Innsbruck, 1976

As the 2014 Winter Olympics open, my thoughts go back to memories of previous Games. One feat and one performance springs to mind, above all others;Franz Klammer's gold medal run in the men's downhill race at Innsbruck in 1976.

That race stands out for me for several reasons. Firstly, 1976 is the first Winter Olympics which I can remember. I have no recollection whatsoever of Sapporo in 1972 (I was only two years old at the time). Secondly, this run, lasting less than two minutes, not only transcended skiing, it also transcended sport itself, and is probably the one ski race that even non-skiing fans would be able to recognize or recall. It was not just that he won that was significant, but the manner of his victory.

The stage was set perfectly. Klammer was drawn as the last of the top seeds in the running order, starting fifteenth, and was confronted by a formidable benchmark set by the defending champion, Bernard Russi of Switzerland. He was also the favourite for the gold medal, and was competing in front of his adoring but demanding home Austrian crowd - a double edged sword.

What transpired was one of the most audacious and spine-tingling sporting spectacles ever witnessed. Klammer seemed to throw caution to the wind, knowing that he had to take risks to overhaul Russi's time. There were several moments when he looked destined to stumble or fall, but through a combination of skill, confidence, raw courage, and even a modicum of good fortune, he stayed on the course, and won the gold medal by 0.33 seconds.

Individual sports such as downhill skiing differ subtly from other pursuits because of the contest between athlete, himself and the elements. On this occasion, Klammer conquered both himself and the elements, achieving the pinnacle of his career, as well as giving us a supreme example of sporting theatre. I understand that in Austria, that Klammer tour-de-force is still regarded as a milestone in the country's popular-cultural history. The nation literally came to a standstill for those moments.

In retrospect, I also think that Klammer's gold-medal heroics are important in another context. Even in 1976, hard-nosed professionalism and commercialism were beginning to encroach on even "amateur" sports. That run perhaps represents one of the last hurrahs for a more dashing, cavalier and unorthodox ethos.

Those people who cling religiously to their own favourite sports and narrow partisan allegiances for inspiration should check out a video of Klammer's run. Their eyes will hopefully be opened.

London 2012 - A Different Slant

Well, the Olympics have drawn to a close. Time perhaps to give my thoughts on the whole thing.

I have to say that the whole British flag-waving feeding frenzy has left me completely cold.  However, I have enjoyed the Olympics immensely, if perhaps for slightly differing reasons to some other people.

I made a point of bypassing much of the populist hoopla, and concentrated on what would be regarded as "minority" sports, such as handball and rhythmic gymnastics.

When watching these reports, I was struck by the sheer joy, pride and emotion of competing, of people achieving a lifetime's ambition merely by participating in the Olympics, and determined to make the most of it, and savour it, whatever the result. These people will never be international celebrities, or acquire great riches.  This was sport for its own sake, and also as a manifestation of admirable and noble human qualities.

I found watching the rhythmic gymnastics competitions to be especially rewarding and heart-warming. The feeling I got was one of intense competition, but also a real sense of community and camararderie amongs the participants.  A sport which is still human, which has retained some roots, and has not sold its soul. At the same time, a sport which is keenly aware of the need to promote itself, and endear itself to the public, but through sincerity,integrity and a sense of fun and enjoyment.

Many of the so-called "minority" Olympic sports are routinely denigrated by media and public, and this disdain is often born of ignorance.  Handball, rhythmic gymnastics and synchronised swimming require just as much skill, athleticism and dedication as any other sport.

So, my main memories from London 2012 will not be of "legacy" or empty nationalistic bravado, but of simpler, more innocent and genuinely uplifting things . 

The Complete Book Of The Olympics

If you have been enthused about the Olympics in general by London 2012, and wish to delve deeper into the rich history of the event, there is one book which I can unreservedly recommend.  The "Complete Book Of The Olympics", by David Wallechinsky.  As far as I know, it is updated prior to every Olympiad.  This is the latest edition:

I myself have a couple of earlier editions, the latest being the 2004 one.

These books, as well as containing results and statistics from every Olympic event ever held, also have some wonderfully colourful, and often obscure stories and anecdotes from the history of the Games.  The author does not just concentrate on the legendary athletes and episodes; he also relates innumerable human interest stories from minority sports and under-reported corners of the Games.

This is the kind of book that you will find myself going back to constantly, as each subsequent read reveals another tasty morsel of information, or enlightening tale.

David Rudisha

The action in the Olympic Stadium on Thursday evening was spectacular and memorable, but it also left me feeling slightly aggrieved and puzzled.

We had what was by most definitions and measurements, a quite breathtaking men's 800 metres final, with one of the most majestic performances I can remember in my three decades of watching athletics.  David Rudisha lead almost the whole way, throwing down the gauntlet to his rivals, and breaking his own world record.  His searing pace and front-running towed his rivals round to some remarkable times, with five men breaking the 1 minute 43 seconds barrier.

Yet, by the end of the evening, and then this morning, talk of Rudisha's momentous display had largely faded from the forefront of the media, with the focus firmly on Usain Bolt's 200 metres victory, and more "Team GB" success.  I am not under-estimating the importance of Bolt's achievements, or the GB feats, but it seemed to me that things were a bit out of balance.

Perhaps I should not be surprised by all this, really.  This is where we are inexorably heading.  The cult of celebrity, such a pervasive feature of our world today, no doubt influences things, and those with "Pied-Piper" qualities and that aura about them will receive more attention and adulation those who are just simply brilliant at what they do but undemonstrative..  I doubt that this all bothers David Rudisha much, either.  He knows what he achieved last night, as do genuine track and field and sports fans.

I certainly know which race from Thursday's track and field programme I myself found most "inspirational", to use the current buzz-phrase.  A clue - it was won by a Kenyan....

Olympic Memories

I have major reservations about some of the UK media coverage of the Olympics, and also a sceptical view of the "Team GB" hysteria, but I have become more and more immersed in the Games over recent days, tending to focus on some of the "minority" sports, or those where the British have no meaningful presence.  This has all got me thinking about my own Olympic memories.

The Munich Olympics passed me by, as I was less than three years old at the time.  However, "Mark Spitz" was possibly one of the first famous names which I picked up in those formative years, even though for a while I was unaware of what exactly he was famous for!

I have clear recollections of watching the '76 Montreal Games, although still too young to discern and absorb many of the intricacies of the various events. Some of the clearest images were David Wilkie's astounding swim in the 200 metres breastroke (as well as Alan Weeks' iconic TV commentary), and the exploits of Nadia Comaneci in the gymnastics. The East Germans were also making their presence felt, although my naive young mind did not yet grasp some of the more sinister overtones of all that.

The 1980 Olympics in this country were largely defined by the much-anticipated "showdown" between Sebastian Coe and Steve Ovett. I know that the passage of time can dull the effect, but I remember it all being curiously flat and anti-climactic.  The location of the Games, and the boycott, may have contributed to this.  Those 1980 Games kind of passed me by.

By contrast, I have very fond memories of 1984 and Los Angeles.  The time-difference meant that the TV coverage went on until the early hours of the morning, and by then I was at that age when I was permitted to stay up that late! 

Some of my recollections from those Games are a touch obscure.  Britain's first medal was won by a chap called Michael Sullivan in the shooting events, and I remember that the BBC cameras were rolling as he telephoned his wife back in England to relay the good news. 

Early in the Games there was a wonderful duel in the cycling road race, involving American Alexi Grewal and Canada's Steve Bauer.  This had me enthralled for a couple of hours, and Grewal won, somewhat surprisingly, in a sprint finish.

I followed most of the track and field events in 1984 from beneath a blanket on our sofa, and remember waking my brother up with cries of "fantastic!" as Seb Coe retained his 1500 metres crown.

Above all,1984 was the first time when the Games seemed modern, contemporary and immediately accessible, this all no doubt driven by technology.

1988 and Seoul was a different story.  I had just left school, and was in the process of applying for jobs, and traumatic and distressing events were taking place in my family. The Olympics naturally took a back seat, and those Games for me had a strangely lacklustre and sterile feel anyway.  I can't really explain why.

Of all the Olympic Games which I have watched, I would have to say that Barcelona in 1992 was the most enjoyable.  Barcelona itself proved to be a spectacular venue and backdrop, and there was a real dynamism and colour about the whole fortnight.  I booked two weeks off work, specifically to submerge myself in the event, and it proved immensely pleasurable.

Since then, my interest in contemporary Olympics has waned, although I have continued to be fascinated and absorbed by the history.  Commercialism, doping and my own shifting attitudes and world-view have all played a part in this.  Despite this, however, there are still moments when the Olympic Games can deliver sporting theatre like no other event on Earth.

The Olympics

Well, we are around half-way through the London 2012 Olympics.  I am a huge sports fan, but prior to the start of the Games I found myself struggling with a curious lack of enthusiasm, which I found difficult to rationalise.

However, as soon as the competitions got up and running, my interest was aroused, although I have noticed that many of my attitudes and perspectives have changed compared to previous Olympics. These changes are probably a consequence of changes in my own life, and alterations in my outlook on the world and people.

I think that what these Games have shown to me is how alienated and detached I have become from conceptions and notions of "country", "nationality", "patriotism" and partisanship. Of course, enormous credit and congratulations should go to the Team GB athletes, but if I am being honest I feel little different about their success to what I feel about that of athletes from other nations.  I am a human being, and my interest is in human endeavour and human emotions, no matter what colour flag somebody happens to be waving.  I have some favourite athletes, but they come from all over the world. I was delighted for example to see Dee Dee Trotter, who I have admired for a number of years, get a bronze medal in the 400 metres.


I don't subscribe to the theory that the Olympics only really gets properly under way when the track and field commences.  However, there is plenty to look forward to in the next few days, with many of the events looking unusually open and competitive.

Oh, and I wish that the media would make it abundantly clear that their precious "medals table" is unofficial.....

1976 Olympics

The looming prospect of the London 2012 Games has caused me to reminisce about some of my own Olympic memories.

I was not yet three years old when the Munich Olympics occurred in '72, so have no real memories.  However, I have definite recollections of watching the 1976 Montreal Olympics on television.  Possibly because of this, those Games have always held a fascination for me.

The 1976 Games were bedevilled by financial woes and a boycott by some African countries, and seem to have been neglected by many pundits and historians.  However, looking back objectively three and a half decades later, those Olympics stack up very well in terms of ambience and quality of competitions.

The athletics events were full of surprises and variety, with some new stars emerging, in the form of Alberto Juantorena, Edwin Moses and others, whilst the likes of Lasse Viren and Irena Szewinska cemented their claims to be regarded as Olympic legends.  There were some genuinely thrilling races, the men's 5000 metres and steeplechase events instantly springing to mind.

The swimming events were also noteworthy, with the USA entering possibly the most powerful men's team in the history of the Games.  The pool also supplied one of my most vivid memories of the '76 Games, in the form of David Wilkie's gold-medal performance, in world-record time, in the 200 metres breaststroke.  The race was made even more memorable by Alan Weeks' iconic BBC TV commentary.

Another arena of pure excellence during those Olympics was that of gymnastics, and particularly the mesmeric performances of the young Nadia Comaneci.  She took gymnastics to a new level of proficiency and perfection. 

In some ways, the 1976 Games were a hinge between the carefree amateur era, and the more cynical, commercialized future.  Of course, politics and doping were very much live issues even then, but there was still a vestige of innocence remaining.

The Year Ahead

From a blogging point of view, the year ahead presents numerous possibilities.

For a sports afficionado like myself, there is the prospect of the London 2012 Olympics, as well as the European Football Championships, Euro 2012, in Poland and the Ukraine. I dare say that I will be posting the odd article about those two events!  To be honest, I have thus far held quite a cynical and negative view of the London Olympics, but I expect that my enthusiasm will increase as the Games draw nearer.

In addition to the "marquee" events, I will continue to follow the F1 circus and domestic and European football.

I hope also to do the odd bit of travelling during 2012, both within the UK and possibly beyond, so some blog posts on these excursions can be expected....

My cultural activities, in the form of music,literature and cinema, will also provide much blogging material. I have piles of books, purchased over the past two years, gathering dust and awaiting my attention, so I will review these publications from time to time.

Any suggestions for other topics to be covered would be welcomed!