DVD REVIEW: GRAND PRIX (SE)

“Racecars and people collide with conflicting results.”

The Humans

James Garner. Yves Montand. Toshirô Mifune. Eva Marie Saint. Brian Bedford. Jessica Walter. Antonio Sabàto. Françoise Hardy.

The Nutshell

Things get thrown a bit off kilter as Aron’s recklessness throws Stoddard into a wall at 180 mph, jettisoning his chances as BRM’s signature driver. Forced into becoming a Sportscaster (after being fished out of the Mediterranean), it’s only through the good graces of Mifune’s Yamura Industries that Aron has a chance to get back into the fray of each successive race before the season is over. Scott, sitting out months on the sidelines, is put in the awkward position of temporarily losing both his racing drive and his wife (Walter), who walks out on him and into Aron’s arms. Meanwhile, Sarti’s luck smiles upon him with each subsequent triumph and the inclusion of Marie Saint’s American photojournalist at his side. Just don’t tell that to his real wife. It’s mostly all for naught, as everyone heats up, culminating with the dust settling after each consecutive Grand Prix.

The Lowdown

As a technical enterprise the mere words inspire more than a response for those engineers whose feats would surely to go into the record books. And work his team did until finally they were able to harness a 65mm Cinerama camera onto the front chassis of a Racecar. The results are nothing short of astounding, the ground whirring by faster than you’ve ever experienced; it feels real, you experience the rush of traveling faster than your hands during happy fun time. There is such force and it’s all quite on the level of the road that you almost feel as if your own teeth will be filed right off. That’s partly the brilliance of it. Frankenheimer insisted that his actors be filmed at the real speeds and not some sissy reaction of filming them traveling at lower speeds and then cranking the frames per second rate higher. No, sir. This is the real deal.

It’s a shame, though, that’s it’s naively balanced with the limpness of a drab dramatic story that infiltrates the rest of the plot. I almost feel that Grand Prix is two movies; the race and the dramatic uneasiness smashing together to create a muted fire that will still light the way. Written by Robert Alan Aurthur, the story contents itself in reveling in the racing sequences and bogging itself down in the haphazard underdramatic ones – situations that stem from the drivers themselves. There are many stories running parallel to the main one, each one nipping away slightly at the overall chance to give audiences a spectacle unlike anything they’d ever seen. Stoddard’s icy veneer in near-death gives way for a frosty one with the realizations that his wife, Pat, is acting as if she’s divorced by bounding into the temporary hotel rooms of ex-teammate (and future rival) Aron. Their relationship, while strained, isn’t a primary focal point, so it’s almost impossible to not issue a bedeviled sense of wonder when the movie progresses and finds itself with the happy couple reintegrated again – he as racer, she as doting wife. It’s mind-boggling.

Yves Montand, on the other hand, elevates his standard role as the senior one of the competitive group by the sheer nature of his alluring French accent. The lines of his face give way for his deep baritone and inverted stoicism, which is only matched with his debonair air outside of the track. There’s an unidentifiable history to his frame, and I’ve always tended to fill in my own blanks when breaking down his character. I sure as hell want Garner to whoop his ass up and down the asphalt, but I’ll be damned if a subconscious part of me wishes Montand would just take his own advice in the film’s concluding moments – he’s an enjoyable fraction of the movie. What turns his existence into mush is the pairing of Eva Marie Saint as his special lady friend (damn you dad, for ruining that word). The duo moves around one another like moths to a flame, but it has no resonance. She’s quickly in love with a married man who swears this relationship won’t be like the others. His wife shares only their business with him. And nothing else. So when the defining moments of their bond fracture, it doesn’t necessarily pack any punch. Squandered away in seemingly disinterested fragments, their desire for one another is at least more rounded than that of Stoddard and his wife.

What works every time is Frankenheimer’s adept visions at crafting some of the finest races ever put onto celluloid. You’ll see Grand Prix races at Monaco, French, Belgium’s Spa (complete with horrific cloudbursts), Netherlands, America’s Watson Cup, England’s bendy Brands Hatch, and Italy’s famed unforgiving Monza; courses with the same intensity as if you were rocketing along at ridiculous speeds. I’ve never seen Grand Prix in fullscreen (I searched for days to find a widescreen VHS copy) and I can’t even fathom what it means to be horrendously cropped from Frankenheimer’s original intent. Here, on the DVD, the breadth of scope is marvelous in commanding your own eyes front and center. His own edict rings 100% true. You are riding along with these crazies.

Composer Maurice Jarre, coming fresh off Doctor Zhivago (one of the greatest movies ever made), uses Zhivago-esque strings and harmonies to envelope the story in a haze of fairly buoyant melodies. Jarre’s main theme adroitly conjures up the musical feelings of racing coupled with the same excitement one would get being chased with a dead hooker in the backseat. Through his subtle use of motifs, there’s a plethora of seemingly romantic moments that made me weep faster than my time in the childhood cage.

The Package

Warner has gussied up a grenade of a Special Edition, blowing the washed-out VHS’ back into the analog realm. Presented in its original 2.20:1 Cinerama aspect ratio, this is the only way I can imagine seeing this film. It falls directly into the category of movies that must be experienced as shot, which also includes every movie ever made. It’s a bright and crisp transfer from original 65mm elements, although there are a few glaring scratches (like in the opening and end shots of the stands) and fading (Stoddard’s bedroom pan) is evident as well. The more welcomed addition is the inclusion of a 5.1 Dolby Digital track, which played with my set-up well and transferred the sound adequately, considering the movie was recorded in Stereo. Your front speakers will get busy while your back ones will recall those awkward times in High School with little play.

All of the other extras are feature prominently on Disc Two. Up first is Pushing the Limit: The Making-of Grand Prix (runtime: 29:07). For the uninitiated, the documentary contains a wealth of interesting information, from archival footage of Frankenheimer back in the 60’s to a recent (and fragmented throughout the doc) Speed Channel interview done years before his untimely death. Cross-cut with the discussion there’s interviews with historians, racers, camera operators, and Actors of all types. The real meat of it rests within the stories told, from the archival footage of Garner yelling at a Monte Carlo shop keeper who wanted more money from the shoot to Frankenheimer recollecting the story of how he originally wanted Steve McQueen to play Pete Aron, but it fell through when the man he sent in his place quickly warmed to hate the masculine icon. McQueen would throw trash in neighbor Garner’s yard for the years following.

The other doc, The Style and Sound of Speed (runtime: 11:39), goes into the mechanics of how Saul Bass worked in tandem with Frankenheimer to achieve the film’s signature sense of propulsion in its split-screens. There’s a brief topical talk about the sound guys learning all 452 gear shift changes in Monte Carlo and replicating that on a straightaway in Riverside, CA for the film as well as a look into Jarre’s ballet of machinery prevalent throughout most of the film.

Finally, there’s the vintage featurette Grand Prix: Challenge of the Champions (runtime: 12:45). Incorporating a surprisingly crisp and clean transfer, it’s a great feature to see some of the more elaborate camera rigs that the Grand Prix team crafted to create some of the film’s indelible imagery.