A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Sunday, September 10, 2023

Le Mans (Lee H. Katzin, 1971)


Cast: Steve McQueen, Siegfried Rauch, Elga Andersen, Ronald Leigh-Hunt, Fred Haltiner, Luc Merenda, Christopher Waite, Louise Edlund. Screenplay: Harry Kleiner. Cinematography: René Guissart Jr., Robert B. Hauser. Production design: Phil Abramson. Film editing: Ferris Webster Ghislaine Desjonquères, Donald W. Ernst, John Woodcock. Music: Michel Legrand. 

The real antagonists of Le Mans are Porsche and Ferrari, not Michael Delaney (Steve McQueen) and Erich Stahler (Siegfried Rauch). And the real directors of the film are not Lee H. Katzin and John Sturges (who quit or was fired from the film, depending on whose story you believe) so much as the cameramen who shot the actual 24 Hours of Le Mans in June 1970 -- one of whom, David Piper, who seriously injured during the shoot -- and the editors who put together their footage. Which is to say that the movie is as much about technology as it is about human beings. Granted, the docudrama tries to dramatize the human element more than it documents the actual race. You don't cast an actor like Steve McQueen unless you want to bring out something of human toughness in the face of the perils of a race like Le Mans and to soften it with a romantic element. Delaney has previously been involved in a crash that killed his opponent, and wouldn't you know it, the beautiful widow, Lisa (Elga Andersen), shows up at Le Mans, giving McQueen a chance to show Delaney's guilt and to deal with the attraction that blossoms between him and Lisa -- lots of poignant gazes. There's also a subplot about a driver who tells his wife he's going to give up racing and settle down, which only signals to the savvy moviegoer that he's about to get in a crash. But the thing that lingers with the viewer after the film is over is the cars, zooming around turns, skidding on rain slicks, and coming apart spectacularly and sometimes pyrotechnically when they crash. The substance of the drama is really the rivalry of two corporations and their designers, engineers, and pit crew mechanics. The drivers are skilled, of course, but they're at the mercy of their machines and those who create and maintain them. The rivalry even took place behind the scenes of the film. Enzo Ferrari refused to supply cars for the film when he learned that Porsche was going to be depicted as the winner, so the producers had to borrow them from a Belgian distributor. Le Mans is an exciting film, but I'm tempted to ask Lisa's question, "What is so important about driving faster than anyone else?" And to find my answer in Delaney's description of racing as "a professional blood sport."   

No comments: