John Frankenheimer/USA/1966; R4 (2-disc SE)
Warner Bros, NZ$19.95 | Reviewed by Tim Wong

LOATHING and ignorant of motorsport I might be, John Frankenheimer’s Grand Prix may just make a late convert out of me yet: with bracing race sequences combusting with the velocity of an earth re-entry, the thrill of the chase has never made for such exhilarating viewing. Envy those who saw it in the sixties, in Cinerama, projected in 65mm up large – everything from mind-blowing to nauseating, by all accounts. Relishing the old boy, pan-European allure of the Formula One’s halcyon days, the film globetrots between nine race meetings on the F1 calendar, from the pomp of Monaco on the French Riviera, known for its challenging street circuit and tax-free benefits, to the circumstance of Monza, Italy, with its hazardous banked corners and parochial Ferrari cult.

When cars aren’t hurtling around in circles, Frankenheimer endeavours less successfully to latch onto the buzz of rival manufacturers, their playboy drivers, and the circus of petrol heads, vulturous media and clingy women fixated to it all. Yves Montand is the disillusioned French champion; James Garner the unshakable American hotshot; Toshiro Mifune the bonsai team owner; Eva Marie Saint, Jessica Walter and Françoise Hardy the glamour girls. Real Formula One personalities decorate the scenery for authenticity (Kiwi Bruce McLaren appears in a brief speaking role). But what these scenes lack is a gladiatorialism. Tellingly, as Montand’s embittered Jean-Pierre Sarti laments the meat market that GP has become – where fans bloodlust after the spectacle of crashes – it’s the breakneck incident of Frankenheimer’s racing tableau (highlighted by two violent high-speed accidents) that we, admittedly, raise our thumbs too. True enough, when the pedal comes off the metal, little momentum is sustained, and the film decelerates measurably. You’ll bide your time between chequered flags.

And little wonder: with multiple onboard cameras straddlingly the film’s souped-up race mobiles, speed as cinema is a revelation, translating to the screen as an adrenalised, perilous pursuit reserved only for the audacious and insane. This is a technically cocky film, honed by Frankenheimer’s insistence on realism and disdain for back projection, and Saul Bass’ kaleidoscopic shot designs, where mechanical fetish and split-screen skirmishes capture the sport’s duelling perspectives. Crucially, Frankenheimer – who made Grand Prix before McQueen drove in Bullitt, and then returned to the wheel decades later with Ronin – casts his Formula One heroes as mere mortals. Not gods, but fallible human beings whose need for speed perches them on brink of disaster or success. It’s a frail line between excitement and sheer danger that transforms the viserca of Grand Prix into more than just a spectator sport.


EXTRAS here are plentiful, with five featurettes covering all the bases: Pushing the Limit, a thorough retrospective on the film’s sometimes-chequered making of, with interview excerpts from the late Frankenheimer; Flat Out and Brands Hatch, pure heaven for petrol heads and students of motorsport; The Style and Sound of Speed, an anatomy of the race sequences, in particular Saul Bass’ visual contribution; and Challenge of the Champions, a vintage documentary on set in Monte Carlo during the filming of Grand Prix’s opening scenes. Presented in its original grunty 2.20:1 aspect ratio – essential given the breadth of its montage compositions – the film looks as close as it ever will to its original Cinerama experience.