Le Mans

As I'm sure is the case with many cinema buffs, I've entertained more than one fancy of being a film director.  I've even created a filmography in my head.  Two films are about some of my favorite subjects: baseball and jazz.  Both are so fascinating to me that while the human beings who bring these pastimes to life are worthy of exploration, I could easily just have a good, hard look at the nuts and bolts of these topics.  To me, there's enough inherent interest as to not feel the need to contrive character dramatics.  Put another way - I imagined a film of fiction that maybe had a documentary style that considered the characters to some degree, but not in any traditional narrative.  You know, their complicated lives and such, which often play like cliche anyway.  1971's LE MANS, which utilizes actual footage of the famous annual race, is the closest thing I've yet seen to fit that criteria.

Maybe Steve McQueen had the same thoughts.  This film was a pet project, one in which he wanted as accurate and immersive an experience as possible.  He went as far as to secure the multi-dynamic image technique, a radical for its time process in which squares onscreen show both single images within, or part of an image that is shared with other squares.  McQueen's 1968 film THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR had used this, but it was not to be for LE MANS, as Christopher Chapman, the process' creator, didn't feel it appropriate for the project.   I have to disagree, as there is so much to cover here - race cars in motion, crowds in the stands, concerned pit crews.  Simultaneous imagery would've have made this experience richer.

But LE MANS is an experience just the same.  Some have called it a European art film.  It does resemble one.  There are shots that come into focus as someone has a recollection.  Many scenes where no dialogue is spoken.  In fact, the race announcer says more than any of the main actors.  Those interested in the famous 24 hour gruel fest will get plenty of gearhead moments and roaring engines.   There are some impressionistic shots of the French countryside.  The cinematography and editing are world class.

The plot? Minimal.  McQueen portrays an ace driver named Michael Delaney, who has returned to compete again, but is haunted by the death of a rival that occured the year before.  He in turn seems to be haunting the driver's widow, Lisa (Elga Andersen), who has also returned.  When he asks her why, she says, "for me."  Maybe she is trying to get into the psyche that is so preoccupied with racing/winning.  Delaney explains that everything that matters is about the race, especially when you're good at it.  Everything before and after are just "waiting."

LE MANS occasionally allows the characters to interact, but they mostly just stare at each other.  We meet a few other racers and even a spouse, who is similarly baffled by this male obsession.  These elements form more traditional plotting, but director Lee H. Katzin (who replaced John Sturges) and team are going for the omniscient point of view.  This film always feels like an odd meld of documentary and melodrama, thankfully leaning far more toward the former.   But McQueen, who wanted to enter the actual Le Mans race but was denied, emits his usual high wattage star power.  By barely doing anything.  A true icon.  Cooler than cool.