CHARIOTS OF FIRE: Blu-ray (Allied Stars/Goldcrest/The Ladd Co., 1981) Warner Home Video
BEST PICTURE -
1981
One would think movies
about the triumph of the human spirit would be the easiest to tell. But
actually, the opposite is quite true. And fewer still have managed to bottle the
elusive celebratory quality of a moment excised from time itself, particularly,
upon renewed viewing, without becoming maudlin or faintly ringing of overt and
woefully pre-digested sentimentality. Hugh Hudson’s Chariots of Fire (1981) is the exception to this rule; a serenely
understated and altogether emotionally nourishing tale about following one’s
own moral compass. Producer, David Puttnam inadvertently discovered the true-life
story of Eric Henry Liddell – ‘the Flying
Scotsman’ - in 1978 while recovering from the flu. Liddell’s life’s story captivated
Puttnam. Shortly thereafter, he commissioned screenwriter, Colin Welland to pen
an adaptation about this all-but-forgotten figure in sports history. Liddell
was, in fact, the most renown Scotsman of his generation, his life’s work as a
missionary, dramatically cut short by an inoperable brain tumor that claimed his
life in 1945. He was only 43-years-old. In what is perhaps Chariots of Fire’s most oddly unsettling bit of verisimilitude, Liddell
would be portrayed by Scottish actor, Ian Charleson, to whom he bore an uncanny
physical resemblance, and, died just three years shy of his alter ego. To be
sure, Eric Liddell remains a fascinating figure in sports folklore. He acquired
his reputation as the fastest runner in Scotland while still attending university
in Edinburgh. The son of missionaries, Liddell’s devotion to God preceded his genuine
verve for athletics or his ego, graciously refusing to complete in the 1924 Olympics’
100-meter dash (his best event), because it was scheduled on a Sunday. Instead,
Liddell completed in the 400-meter, receiving a message from one of his team’s
masseurs on the morning of the competition. It read, “In the old book it says: ‘he that honors Me, I will honor.’ Wishing
you the best of success always.” Inspired by the passage, Liddell went on
to win the event, and, break the world record – a victory to stand for the next
twelve years.
At its heart, Chariots of Fire is a story about the
curious, often conflicted alliances sports brings out in the company of men;
honor, dignity, compassion for one’s fellow competitors, and, the glory of achieving
that split-second greatness in victory itself. The project came together
because of producer, David Puttnam’s quest for a story to tell about someone
who follows his own conscience; a passion richly extolled in Welland’s
authentically researched Academy Award-winning screenplay with minor caveats owed
to his artistic license. In addition to Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams, Welland’s
original draft also featured a third protagonist, 1924 Olympic gold medalist,
Douglas Lowe, portrayed as a privileged aristocrat with athletic ambitions. As,
Lowe, still very much alive, absolutely refused to have himself portrayed in
such a manner, Welland wrote in a fictional substitute, Lord Andrew Lindsay. As
Welland neared the end of his creative process, Puttnam set about to
hand-select his cast and crew. His first decision proved fortuitous. Hugh
Hudson, whom Puttnam had known since the early sixties, was an award-winning
advertising and documentary filmmaker. Alas, he had never helmed a feature film
before. Indeed, the closest Hudson had
been to a feature was as second-unit director on Puttnam’s Midnight Express (1978). And Hudson, eager to make good on Chariots of Fire, was as determined to
imprint it with his personal signature. From the outset, he insisted on casting
unknowns in all the major roles, backed by a formidable roster of distinguished
British thespians, including John Gielgud, Lindsay Anderson, and Ian Holm.
However, finding the right talents to front-line the movie proved something of
a challenge. No actor for Eric Liddell had satisfied Puttnam or Hudson until a
chance meeting after the Royal Shakespeare Company's production of Piaf, costarring Ian Charleson as
Pierre. Unbeknownst to either Puttnam or Hudson, Charleson had already heard of
their casting woes and desperately wanted to play the part.
Opposite Charleson,
producers hired Ben Cross as Harold Abrahams; the actor, possessing a natural
pugnaciousness that fit Cross’ own personality to a tee. As 2oth Century-Fox
had agreed to put up half the production budget in exchange for distribution
rights outside of North America, they insisted on American names to pad out the
roster. Puttnam willingly acquiesced, filling the relatively minor roles of
American champion runners, Jackson Scholz and Charlie Paddock with Brad Davis
(whom he had worked with on Midnight
Express) and Dennis Christopher, the star of the cycling drama, Breaking Away (1979). For authenticity,
Puttnam demanded all of his actors undergo 3-months of intensive physical
training with renowned running coach, Tom McNab. Another piece of inspired
casting, at least for Puttnam, was Greek-born Vangelis to compose Chariots of Fire’s central theme and
incidental score. Relocated to London since 1974, Vangelis had, in fact,
collaborated with Hudson on several documentaries and commercials. Although set
in the 1920’s, Vangelis techno-inspired fusion of synthesizer and piano, sparsely
accompanied by other instruments, proved both decisive and integral at capturing
the lyrical spirit of this period piece. Indeed, some 40-years later, one
cannot help but instantly recognize his pulsating rhythms and crescendo without
first conjuring to mind the image of long-distance runners, sprinting in wet
sand in slo-mo. Initially, Hudson planned simply to repurpose Vangelis' 1977 composition,
‘L'Enfant’ from his Opera
Sauvage for the main titles. Indeed, while shooting the aforementioned
beach sequence in West Sands, St. Andrews, Hudson had ‘L’Enfant’ blaring over his loud speakers to get the cast into the
mood. Vangelis implored Hudson to reconsider, and, after playing him the new
composition, Hudson wholeheartedly concurred. Explaining his inspiration for this
iconic central theme, Vangelis told Hudson, “I
knew we needed a piece which was anachronistic to the period to give it a feel
of modernity. My father was a runner, and this is an anthem to him.”
As Cambridge
College would not permit filming within its ivy-covered walls, fearing backlash
from its underlying inference of antisemitism, Eton College stood in as its
substitute; the former, chagrined when Chariots
of Fire garnered massive publicity on both sides of the Atlantic. Liverpool
Town Hall was used as the British Embassy in Paris, while the Colombes Olympic
Stadium was actually the Oval Sports Centre in Bebington, Merseysidem, with its
nearby ferry terminal, a substitute used for the embarkation scenes set in
Dover. Chariots of Fire begins on a
somber note, Eric Liddell’s funeral in 1945; an aged, Lord Andrew Lindsay
(Nigel Havers) offering his heartfelt eulogy. From here we regress into an
extended flashback, as Lindsay recalls the sheer joy, racing barefoot along a
lonely stretch of windswept beach. Born to privilege, Lindsay is a rather
devil-may-care young man who looks upon running as a grand lark. His lack of
true conviction for the sport is overwhelmed by the camaraderie he relishes
among his fellow athletes. The year is 1919, and Lithuanian Jew, Harold
Abrahams (Ben Cross) has just entered Cambridge. His academic experiences are
marred by a streak of antisemitism that pervades the staff. Driven by some mad
inner destiny to prove himself worthy – or perhaps, merely to prove the others
wrong - Abrahams becomes the first person to ever complete the Trinity Great
Court Run, streaking in a blur around the courtyard in the time it takes the
nearby clock to strike the 12th hour. Cheered on by his fellow
students, Abrahams discovers his true calling as a runner and embarks upon a
series of undefeated victories in national competitions. Outwardly, these
triumphs fan his vanity. However, they do little to exorcise his inner demons.
Abrahams’ heart
is stirred by a chance meeting with soprano, Sybil Gordon (Alice Krige), who is
currently appearing as Yum-Yum in Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado. The two begin a
flawed love affair, frequently interrupted by Abrahams’ insecurities; also,
stifled by his blind determination to maintain his cock-of-the-walk public persona
at the expense of a more intimate and meaningful private life. Abrahams polar
opposite is Eric Liddell (Ian Charleson); a passionate Scotsman, who races as
though he had wings on his feet. Eric’s sister Jennie (Cheryl Campbell), a
devout missionary, moderately disapproves of her brother’s plans to pursue
competitive running. Indeed, pride cometh before the fall, so spaketh the Lord.
But Eric insists he runs, not to satisfy his own vanity, but to glorify God, to
show Him thanks who gave him the strength and agility to compete. Eric makes Jennie a solemn promise; to return
to China – the place of his birth – and work as a missionary as their parents
once did and would have wanted him to do. However, when he misses church
services one Sunday in order to compete, Jennie believes Eric has lied to her
and chides him. Eric responds with “I
believe God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I
feel His pleasure.”
Liddell and
Abrahams face off in their first competition. Although Abrahams vows to emerge
victorious, and pours every last ounce of his strength – and considerable ego -
into the match, he is seemingly effortlessly defeated by Liddell, whose
graciousness in victory is superseded by Abrahams’ bitterness and outrage at
having lost. Abrahams has missed the point of competition, misperceiving it as
a war against the others in the race. But Liddell has won because he truly
believes in the art of the sport – to challenge one’s self and find strength -
not in victory – but, in sportsmanship. After the race, Abrahams is pulled
aside by professional trainer, Sam Mussabini (Ian Holm) who offers to take him
on to improve his technique. Abrahams, who sought out Mussabini earlier,
willingly agrees, incurring the dismay of his headmasters (John Gielgud,
Lindsay Anderson). Both suggest, rather condescendingly, that Abrahams is an
amateur ‘playing’ at being a tradesman. Undaunted by their class-based snobbery,
Abrahams engages Mussabini and the tutelage begins in earnest.
Lindsay
befriends both men, introducing them to his life of privilege. Stimulated by
their friendship, Lindsay becomes a selfless admirer of both Liddell and
Abrahams. Eventually, these adversarial champions are chosen to represent Great
Britain at the 1924 Olympiad in Paris, along with Lindsay and fellow classmates,
Aubrey Montague (Nicholas Farrell) and Henry Stallard (Daniel Gerroll). The men
accept their appointments with great humility. However, when Liddell discovers
his 100-meter race is scheduled for Sunday, he respectfully declines to
compete, despite strong ‘encouragement’ from the Prince of Wales (David
Yelland) and the British Olympic committee. Liddell, however, remains steadfast
and true to his Christian convictions. Lindsay offers a truce: since he has
already won a silver medal in the hurdles, he will relinquish his place in the
400 meter race the following Thursday for Liddell to compete. Liddell accepts
and the committee agrees. Meanwhile, Abrahams is badly beaten in the 200 meters
by American runner, Jackson Scholz (Brad Davis). Redoubling his efforts,
Abrahams challenge himself in the 100-meter that Liddell ought to have run.
There, he is victorious and Mussabini is overcome with elation. Preparing for
the 400-meter, Liddell is ridiculed by the American coaches. However, Scholz
hands Liddell a note in support of his religious convictions. The men race and
Liddell wins despite the odds, given a rousing ovation in the stands. The Brits
return home in triumph and Sybil and Abrahams are reunited. Before fading to
black, we learn the fate of these Olympians. Abrahams eventually married Sybil
and settled down. Liddell fulfilled his promise to Jennie by returning to China
as a missionary. He was interned in one of their concentration camps during the
outbreak of war and died of a brain tumor and malnutrition on February 21,
1945.
Chariots of Fire is exuberant film-making. It
celebrates the undiluted joy in athletics rather than in victory itself. The
Welland screenplay is passionate about its subject matter, the all-British cast
and crew more enthusiastic still, and, the results are immensely satisfying in
unexpected ways. The film charts the chequered progress of flawed heroes who
ultimately believe in themselves, occasionally even when those closest them are
their greatest impediment on the road to immortality. Behind the scenes, the
shoot proved anything but smooth. Puttnam has gone on record, claiming executive
producer, Dodi Al Fayed, was “one of the
laziest people I ever knew”, “more interested in girls, cocaine and having a
good time” than in creating any sort of cinema art. It is no secret, the billionaire
playboy’s father, Mohamed Al Fayed (owner of Harrods’ Dept. Store, Knightsbridge)
set his son up in the movie business. But according to Puttnam, Dodi proved
such a headache, he was forcibly ejected from the set and banned from returning
to it thereafter. Indeed, Mohamed’s film company had provided Puttnam with nearly
£2 million to finance the picture’s early development.
Also, according
to Puttnam, directing Ben Cross proved a challenge; the actor’s ego, preceding
his talent. Puttnam was, however, enamored by Ian Charleson’s character immersion. For Puttnam, Charleson remained ‘the beating heart’ of the picture – and ever,
the gentleman, accommodating and passionate about the work. So, when the actor narrowly
escaped severe injury while shooting one of his preliminary races, Puttnam left
the day’s location, white-knuckled and nauseous. “Liddell is prevailed upon…to run in a field,” Puttnam later
explained, “We found one…very beautiful,
but…the ground (was) riddled with rabbit holes. If Ian’s ankle had snapped in
two …well, end of film.” Meanwhile, Nigel Havers broke his wrist practicing
the hurdles, quietly binding the wound, fearing he would be fired from the movie
if discovered. As there was no money to pay for extras to fill the stands,
Puttnam came up with an ingenious daily ‘contest’ giveaway; those attending, entered
into a raffle to win, vacuum cleaners, washing machines, motorbikes and even a
Ford Fiesta. Despite confrontations and setbacks on the set, Puttnam would
later describe Chariots of Fire as
his ‘proudest achievement’.
Interestingly,
none of it ought to have worked. By all early accounts, the picture’s opening
laid an egg – theaters only half full, and mixed reviews from the critics. “Well, that’s it,” Puttnam reasoned, “It’s over.
But then, an extraordinary thing happened. Audience figures peaked the
longer the film was showing. In America,
audiences got younger and younger as the attendances grew. Slowly, we had a
global hit on our hands.” In the end, Chariots
of Fire grossed nearly $60 million in the U.S., of which Al Fayed could
show a profit of £6.5 million. In hindsight, Chariots of Fire’s great strength is it does not attempt to iron
out inherent dramatic flaws in the historical record. We get the story from a ‘warts and all’ perspective – albeit, the
warts, beautifully lit in soft focus, with blistering sweat sheering from these
heart-pounding male thoroughbreds in glorious slo-mo. While the movie takes
certain artistic liberties to tell the tale, and egregiously mis-identifies
Abrahams’ girlfriend as Sybil Gordon (she was actually, Sybil Evers), the heart
of the piece is firmly affixed in a celebration of sportsmanship, life’s
microcosm in miniature, sped up, and processed through the rubric of
ever-lasting friendship.
Warner Home
Video’s Blu-ray is a must have. Colors are rich and contrast is spot on,
capturing David Watkin’s diffused cinematography with its ethereal afterglow
for times’ past. The ‘vintage’ look takes a bit of getting used to, but evolves
to perfection, with close-ups revealing an impressive amount of fine detail. The
DTS 5.1 audio is as impressive, with subtle nuances in dialogue, score and
effects. Warner has gone all out on extras too. This digi-pack houses 36 pages
of glossy production stills. We get 2 half hour featurettes – the first,
devoted to the Paris games; the second, on the making of the movie. Director,
Hugh Hudson also appears in a newly produced Q&A that is fascinating.
Hudson covers a lot of the same ground as in audio commentary. But it’s a good listen. We also get extra features ported over from
Warner’s long-since retired SE DVD; including The Making of Chariots of Fire,
deleted scenes, a reunion featurette and theatrical trailer. Bottom line: there
is absolutely NO reason why you should not own this disc. Very highly
recommended.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
4.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
4
Comments