A
film review by Jeffrey Kauffman for Blu-ray.com on May 16, 2011.
Some
races evidently never end. In the mid-1960's two big budget films built around
the world of race cars and the men who drive them vied to be first out of the
gate. Both films had major stars attached to them, were helmed by well-known
directors, and each was out to beat the other to get to local movie theaters
first. The initial race actually got messy a time or two, as real race footage
for one film was sequestered and then shuttled over to the other film due to
some legal wrangling. But pre-production delays ultimately held up what would
eventually become known as Le Mans,
starring Steve McQueen, and 1966 saw John
Frankenheimer's huge Grand Prix
take the movie world by storm, delivering one of the last big Cinerama features
before that format became largely defunct. While there are certainly
similarities between the two films, Grand
Prix and Le Mans are really as
different as their titular races. Le Mans
is a marathon quasi-verité outing that doesn't waste much time on the drivers'
personal lives and peccadilloes and instead concentrates on the grueling
aspects of a race which lasts 24 hours. Grand
Prix, following its Formula 1 roots, is more of a sprint, dashing through
some of the most exciting race footage ever captured on film, while
occasionally crashing into melodramatic subplots involving most of the major
characters. Grand Prix is inarguably
the glitzier affair, more of a (no pun intended) roadshow event than Le Mans, but it also may be the more
flat out entertaining of the two race films, at least for those who want a
little story (however hackneyed) along with their zooming racecars.
Grand Prix is typically
glamorous star-studded mid-1960's fare, albeit with an international edge, no
doubt to not just recreate an authentic feeling for the race, but to appeal to
overseas markets as well as those stateside. We have James Garner as American Pete Aron, attempting to mount a comeback
after a less than stellar run. Yves
Montand is on hand as aging Frenchman Jean-Pierre Sarti, who is very, very tired of driving and is
looking forward to his hopefully soon retirement. Brian Bedford is on hand as Scotsman Scott Stoddard, whose
horrifying accident in the first race sequence leads to some melodrama with his
American wife, Pat, portrayed by Jessica
Walter. Antonio Sabato Sr. is
our resident Italian, Nino Barlini, a newcomer to Formula One racing after a
career racing motorcycles. Also on hand is Eva
Marie Saint as a journalist drawn to Jean-Pierre despite his being married,
as well as a rather impressive supporting cast which includes everyone from Toshiro Mifune and Françoise Hardy to Geneviève
Page.
Robert Alan Aurthur's sprawling
screenplay is often merely soap operatic window dressing hung around the
viscerally exciting and energetic race sequences, which Frankenheimer shoots
with a battery of cameras, often employing a split screen technique which was
revolutionary at the time (and which predates the perhaps better known usage of
the same technique in the original Thomas
Crown Affair). The magnificence of the race sequences has really never been
equaled, not even in the excellent Le
Mans. There were news reports at the time of the film's 1966 Cinerama
engagements of audience members experiencing vertigo and motion sickness due to
the unbelievable impact of the car mounted footage, which literally thrusts the
viewer into the action.
Grand Prix manages to rise
above its often maudlin and even hysterical love stories (the Garner and Walter
characters also dally for a while, despite her
being married) thanks to the uniform excellence of the cast. While this could
have easily tipped over into a sort of Harold Robbins-esque sexually tinged
melodrama, instead we have a stable of incredibly fine actors who play
everything close to the vest, and it works beautifully, helping to ameliorate
the sillier aspects of Aurthur's screenplay. There's an undeniable
verisimilitude to the racers' interactions, if not always in the interplay
between these same racers and the women who sometimes follow them around like
enamored puppies.
There
are actually at least a couple of outright shocking moments in the racing
segments which also add to Grand Prix's
undeniable feeling of authenticity. With both bystanders and the drivers
themselves frequently in harm's way, Aurthur and Frankenheimer deliver a couple
of jolts to the nervous system that keep the film just slightly off-kilter,
which is actually to its benefit. Despite running well over two hours, Grand Prix rarely feels slow, as befits
its racing heritage. If some of the dramatic elements seem hackneyed and
predictable to modern sensibilities, when taken in the context of big mid-1960's pictures, the film
actually does much better than most, even given the caveat of its occasionally
hyperbolic elements.
Frankenheimer,
who is certainly one of the most underrated and strangely poorly remembered
directors of his era, often worked on smaller scale dramas which nonetheless
almost always featured stellar performances (Birdman of Alcatraz, the original The Manchurian Candidate, and Seconds,
a lesser known Frankenheimer which offers what is arguably Rock Hudson's best
performance). It's to his credit that he not only gets those same stellar
performances from an incredibly able cast across the board in Grand Prix, he also paints on a much
larger canvas than he was typically wont to do, and proves himself one of the
best action stagers of his generation. If some of the dramatic elements of Grand Prix are admittedly turgid, there
is simply no denying the unbelievable power and even majesty of the racing
sequences, sequences which still stand tall as state of the art now almost 50
years after they were filmed.
SPECIAL FEATURES:
Pushing the Limit:
The Making of Grand Prix (29:08) is an absolutely fascinating documentary which
features interviews with Garner, Saint and others alongside a wealth of vintage
footage. The shoot was evidently tempestuous, as evidenced by Frankenheimer's
quote I don't know how the hell we ever
did that film which starts the featurette out, and those roiling emotions
are well on display in a couple of the clips here. This is well above average
stuff and any fan of the film should spend time watching this featurette.
The Style and Sound
of Speed (11:40).
Saul Bass is usually thought of only
as an iconic title designer for a slew of Hitchcock and James Bond films, but
he actually served as a visual consultant for several iconic films including
Hitchcock's Psycho (Bass helped plan
the shower sequence) and Kubrick's Spartacus.
Bass also contributed on several levels to Grand
Prix, helping to do the pioneering split screen technique as well as some
of the sound design elements and other special effects. This excellent overview
helps to highlight his contributions to the film.
Flat Out: Formula One
in the Sixties
(17:26) is a nice history of racing in general, and Formula One in particular,
including a host of interviews with real life race drivers.
Brands Hatch: Chasing
the Checkered Flag
(10:36) takes us on a nice tour of one of Britain's most iconic courses,
setting of one of Grand Prix's most
famous sequences.
Grand Prix: Challenge
of the Champions
(12:45) is a fun vintage featurette made to promote the film before its initial
release.
Labels:
action, auto-racing, drama, Ferrari, Sixties, sport, tragedy
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