Why I hope Ron Howard's RUSH is a winner

 

[Photos:  Top:  The real Formula 1 racers Niki Lauda and James Hunt, back in the day.  The rivals were reported to be good friends, despite their competition on the track and differences in temperaments and behaviors off the track.  Bottom: Chris Hemsworth and Daniel Bruhl as Hunt and Lauda in Ron Howard's 2013 feature film, RUSH.].

Why I hope Ron Howard's RUSH is a winner....

It's not easy to be a Formula 1 fan living in the United States.  It's currently NASCAR country here with a smattering of dedicated IndyCar fans.   In this country, Formula 1 seems, in many ways, almost relegated to those who remember its heyday at Watkins Glen, the small town in upstate New York that hosted the world every crisp and colorful October for 20 years from 1961 to 1980.

Like soccer (the world's football), Formula 1 motor racing is a sport that is wildly popular around the rest of the world but not so much here.  It's difficult (but getting a bit easier) to find Formula 1 on television.  For quite some time before 2012 there was no track dedicated to the sport in this country (now Circuit of the Americas exists in Austin, Texas and hosted its first U.S. Grand Prix in November of 2012).  After the Glen, races had been tried at Indianapolis, Las Vegas, and other places, but nothing stuck.  One hopes that Austin may help change that, at least for awhile. 

The guru of Formula 1, Bernie Ecclestone, seems to be open to deals then lay in wait for them to fall through, at least according to the popular motor sports press.  A promised race in New Jersey, a street race planned against the backdrop of the Manhattan skyline, would do much for the sport in this country if held in that media mecca.  However, the on-again, off-again stories keep coming, and one wonders if it will happen or not.  Still, one recalls the same stories circulating in the lead-up to COTA, and that race eventually ran with much applause from both the drivers and the fans.

Popularity among the American public is moved collectively by many things, but certainly the entertainment industry and the media wield big influences in a country that is as large geographically and as diverse demographically as ours.  A hit movie with a popular and award-winning director gets talked about for months before it opens, then gets talked about in reviews and talked about again after it is reviewed.  The build-up to an opening includes people talking their way to a decision about whether or not to spend part of their paychecks on a night out at the cinema when they could view any number of other things that evening that they have already paid for with their various cable, Internet, and/or Netflix subscriptions.

A hit movie brings people out.  People out share a collective experience they don't get at home in front of their big-screen TVs or computer screens.  It's a 'happening' then, and one they go to work on Monday morning and talk about with their friends and colleagues.  Multiply that effect in community by community, region by region, and state by state, and you get the idea.  Word of mouth is probably the best way to market a movie -- or, one might argue, a sport -- to those who are unfamiliar with it.

So, my hopes are high for RUSH.  I want it to be a hit for whatever reason it becomes popular (I don't care, e.g., if Chris Hemsworth brings people to the theater who have no interest in cars or racing and would not otherwise be there).  Because then more of my fellow Americans will know what Formula 1 racing is -- that it is NOT NASCAR (for good or for bad, depending on how you feel about that series of motor sports) -- and that it has a history that is as fascinating and compelling as it is puzzling for the layperson who has never stepped foot inside a race car of any vintage or who has never put money down to watch a race live and in person. 

Among many other factors, the documentary film, SENNA, contributed to cementing my own commitment to studying Formula 1, historic racing, and motor racing in general for my next book.  There's just something more to this sport -- something deeper in the human experience that it expresses -- than one might first imagine.  I hope RUSH helps raise awareness, excitement, and curiosity about the second-highest watched sport around the world (behind soccer) in this country.  Selfishly, I hope it's a winner, if for no other reason, so that I don't have to begin every conversation about my work with a fellow American (even fellow Ph.D.s who study sports!) by explaining what Formula 1 racing is, and why I believe it's worth so much of my time, and is perhaps also deserving of their attention.

So, let's take a look at RUSH, America.  I don't know yet if it will flip or flop.  It's not a documentary, and it's not an art film, but if you feel any of the excitement, bewilderment, or pathos from the sport -- or curiosity about its history -- from watching the movie as I have so far from my studies, then perhaps you'll be rewarded with an experience that rushes past your expectations.  And wouldn't that be, well, just plain cool? 

I look forward to hearing your impressions if you do go see the movie, and I'll be sure to share mine, too!

DreamWorks TURBO gets quick start with IndyCar help

 

 

(Photo:  Turbo the racing snail from Turbo the animated movie by DreamWorks, distributed by Twentieth-Century Fox.  Credit:  Twentieth-Century Fox.).

Going to see this movie this weekend (opening weekend).  I may be the only woman there without a child in tow!  Ha. 

Here's the Examiner.com article I wrote about the movie on its opening day. 

Interesting to note that IndyCar supports the film -- including racer Dario Franchitti who served as a technical consultant.

[Muse:  Racing's action and drama seem like they would make the sport a natural for film treatments; however, many race fans say that few race films earn their respect and appreciation.  What does it take for a movie about racing to earn high marks from the motor racing community?  Apparently, one important criteria (in speaking with longtime motor racing fans) is an authentic rendering of the action on the track.  Apparently, this is more complicated and tricky to achieve in a feature film than one might expect.].

Let me know if you like TURBO! 

Post-Race Weekend Blues

This past weekend was a good one at the track.  My first outing of the 2013 season, this was one I had obviously long anticipated.  The weather was a factor some of the days, but on Sunday, the last day, the weather was perfect and everyone got in the races their cars were prepared well enough to drive.

All that was fine and dandy.  Lots learned for my book, people talked to, etc., etc.  Then came the decision to leave the track, then the drive home.

Throughout Sunday at historic/vintage races, people pack up and go home at different times.  So, while Sunday is the day racers look forward to for their main events and the last chance to drive their cars and maybe beat a pal in friendly competition or get first in class, a quick lap, more seat time, or even a spot on the podium with a little take-away goody to bring back with them, it's also the day many (or at least those who are not retired) have to high-tail it back home in time to get back to work the next day.  So, the place empties out gradually, over time.

If you're a spectator like me, or a writer researching a book or an article, and have the luxury of staying as long as you wish, from mid to late afternoon I notice a softer quality begins to draw down on the track.  There is less commotion overall; there are still 1 or 2 more races going on; the sunlight changes quality.  There is a sense that something is coming to an end but isn't there, quite yet.  And some of us just plain don't want to leave.

That's how I felt yesterday.  I expected I'd not want to leave, or that I'd feel maybe a little disappointed about things I had hoped yet to accomplish before the weekend ran out of time.  What I didn't expect was the utter sadness I did feel.  I looked at the scenery coming down off the hill.  I drove with the radio on.  The silence, even with music, was deafening after the roar of engines in your ears for 3 straight days.

People are frequently smiling and in a good mood at the track.  They may not be in the "real" world.  I thought, 'are there any errands I need to run before I go home?  I can't go home just yet.'  But there weren't any I could think of right then.  So, I parked in a city park for about half an hour, just to kind of "come down" from the weekend.  That's when I teared up, then asked myself what in the world right did I have to be so sad?  I'd just had a good weekend.

The experience has me questioning if there is something that could be unhealthy about racing for those who do it (I mean beyond the danger) as well as for those who love watching.  There is that popular quote Steve McQueen said in the 1971 movie, LE MANS, playing a race car driver named Michael Delaney:  "When you’re racing, it .... it’s life. Anything that happens before or after... is just waiting."

Well, I don't want to be that guy, you know?  But yesterday, I could feel that.  I could feel what that means.  I had waited for many months to go back to the track, and now it was over.  I would go back to the track much sooner than I had left it the last time, since it is now the season where I live, but I felt uncomfortable about how forlorn I was over having to leave it yesterday.  I knew that somewhere inside I'd be waiting, every day in a way, until I was back there again in a few weeks. 

Maybe it's not such a bad thing.  People enjoy what they enjoy and hate to leave it.  I'm working on a racing book, so I do a lot of reading about racing every day, so perhaps it's only natural to long for the real experience again with some vigor after a long absence.  But it has me thinking.  I don't want to be that person who "lives" only, or feels most alive, at a track. 

I'm better today.  More sleep and getting out of the sun after several straight days outside help bring back perspective.

This weekend, though, at the very least, I think I got a taste of what that other drug called speed can do.

[Musing:  What do you think, dear reader.  If you go to watch motor races, or participate in them, do you think it's at all "dangerous" when you miss it and long to return to the track in a big way?  Is it just like any other enjoyment, or is there something different about motor racing?].

THE GREAT GATSBY - The Car

(Photo:  Car featured in the 2013 film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby directed by Baz Luhrmann and starring Leonardo DiCaprio.  Credit:  Warner Bros.).

If you, like me, noticed your attention diverted from the story by seeing the massive, shiny yellow car in the latest film adaptation of F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic 1925 American novel, The Great Gatsby, you might like to hear (or be reminded of) how Nick Carraway described the vehicle in the novel.

In Chapter 4, Gatsby comes to pick up Carraway to go to lunch:

            He saw me looking with admiration at his car.

           "It's pretty, isn't it, old sport!" He jumped off to give me a better view.  "Haven't you seen it before?"

           I'd seen it.  Everybody had seen it.  It was a rich cream color, bright with nickel, swollen here and there in its monstrous length with triumphant hat-boxes and supper-boxes and tool-boxes, and terraced with a labyrinth of wind-shields that mirrored a dozen suns.  Sitting down behind many layers of glass in a sort of green leather conservatory, we started to town.

What do you think?  Does Baz Luhrmann's movie incarnation match Fitzgerald's description?

According to the Los Angeles Times, the car above is a 1929 Dusenberg Model J.  Since the novel was first published in 1925, the car post-dates the time that Gatsby presumably would have been in the market for a jazzy car.  However, it certainly fits his character and the times.

More "historically accurate" vehicles, along with other, later 1920s-era luxury cars, are pictured in a slideshow here.  These include the 1920 Kissel Model 6-45 Gold Bug Speedster; a 1921 Mercers Series 5 Raceabout; and a 1923 Lincoln L-Series Sports Phaeton.

If you stay to read the credits of movies like I do, you may have noticed that "Jay Leno's Garage" received a credit in the film.  Why was that?  What did Jay do?  Was the car his?  According to The Hollywood Reporter, Leno, who is an avid car collector, "allowed director Baz Luhrmann's crew to record period-correct sounds of his Dusenbergs."

Later in the novel, of course, Gatsby's vehicle is called "the death car," for reasons you'll know if you've read the book or seen the movie.

[Muse:  Would you like to own a car like the Dusenberg above?  If so, where would you drive it, or would you just take it to a show and park it to be admired?]