Greatest Movie Opening Sequences: John Frankenheimer's Grand Prix

It is an article of faith, universally accepted in OnceWereBachelor circles, that Steve McQueen is an icon, perhaps Icon Number One. He is one of few real people whom, as the old saw goes, men want to be and women want to be with. So it may be blasphemy not to select his legendary racing movie Le Mans for veneration in this series. But I have mentioned Mr. McQueen here and here, so I think my opinion of the man is a matter of record.

Le Mans, in fact, is a great movie and perhaps iconic in its own right. The fact that it even exists is testament to the Icon's sheer will. McQueen envisioned it as an artifice-free depiction of the great endurance race, and in watching it one can see that, despite studio involvement, the movie largely delivers that. Very little drama, very much racing - real racing. McQueen's personality, persona, and devotion to the motorsports must have been turned up to eleven, to overcome the Suits who were concerned about the marketability of such a film; one which was really an unadorned depiction of a 24 hour race going round and round, and in which its principal bankable star would do his own driving at race speeds.

So, despite not being blessed with the Greatest Movie Opening Sequence in a Movie About Racing, I present to you, the opening sequence of Le Mans, in which Icon Number One wordlessly tours the early morning roads of France in a 911T of pristine condition and provenance, prior to doing actual battle with hated Ferrari in a Porsche 917 in Gulf livery.

We now move on to the actual subject of this post, Grand Prix, starring James Garner and Eva Marie Saint, and directed by All-Timer, John Frankenheimer. This sequence is the Greatest because it is everything about the event and almost nothing about the man. It captures the details of pre-race preparation, the sliding throttle bodies, the wrenching, the vintage helmets, the roaring engines. And the goggles (we all know how much I love goggles). The lore is that Frankenheimer labored to develop a technique that would portray cars racing in a way never before seen, and I think he's succeeded. It doesn't have the mythology of Le Mans, especially as history passes judgment, but as a technical achievement in its own right, it may be more exciting, more entertaining, more complete a movie. And so, Frankenheimer serves up a better movie of lesser legend, one which begins here in Monaco, and wends its way through Formula 1 Europe circa 1966, stopping at such locales as the Belgian GP circuit, Brands Hatch, and - most dramatically - through the deadly banked turn at Monza.

And this post would not be complete, I think without a goat. And that goat is Sly Stallone and Reny Harlin's Driven, about some palooka named Joe Tanto brought back to the sport to mentor a young buck named Jimmy Bly in IndyCar racing. I would describe this as the racing movie analogue to the stripper flick Showgirls. Actually, the movie does a fair to middling job of referencing the other two movies here, but that's about as good as it gets and arguably its more rip-off than homage. So here, coming in DFL*, is its trailer, wherein much of the car racing is computer generated. Ick.

* In racing parlance, dead f**king last.

Trifecta at the Selvedge Yard

This is a just a quick blurb, free of wit or irony (as if this blog is usually filled with both). Just straight reportage. Head over to the Selvedge Yard (see my list of Blogs I'll Cocktail With). He's knocking 'em out of the park lately (to mix metaphors) with the vintage racing posts. Three in a row, to be accurate, the first about the battle between Carroll Shelby and Enzo Ferrari (incredible video that I wish were available in US DVD format), the second about McQueen coming in 2nd to Andretti at Sebring, and the most recent about drivers in apres-race repose.

A Few Minutes of Your Time: TAG Heuer Museum

If you don't have the time or money to get to La Chaux de Fonds, in Switzerland, in the next few minutes, click this link to the TAG Heuer Virtual Museum. It's pretty neat, although not intuitively navigable. There are arrows to click and windows to select and a 360 degree virtual view of the museum, which is laid out like, what else, a watch. If you can find the buttons for the windows, they're worth viewing, because they lay out the TAG Heuer history through landmark timepieces, which you can view with a virtual magnifier.

Delete this blog from your bookmarks if I use the word "virtual" again in this post.

Highlights of the tour, for me, are the chronographs closely associated with motor racing. McQueen wore a Monaco at the wheel of the Gulf Porsche 917 in the film Le Mans. The Autavia is said to be modeled after the side-by-side specialty clocks installed in cross-country rally cars. Both feature the tasteful twin-subdial layout that is so key to imparting that vintage vibe I dig so much.

The Green Rat

Drinkin' and Dronin' posted an entry comprised of Life Magazine Steve McQueen candids. One image in particular captured my attention. Mr. McQueen climbing into his 1950s era Jaguar XKSS in BRG (aka British Racing Green), somewhere in Hollywood.

Now, I don't know squat about Brit sports cars other than the usual mythology (they have bad electrical, leak both oil and rain, and are some of the most beautiful rolling stock ever hand-hammered), so I did some research and came up with more background on the King of Cool's car. The XKSS was a street version of Jaguar's D-type racer. When the D-type started to get outclassed in races, no one wanted them, so the Coventry factory took the remaining examples (over 20 of them), and re-specced them for the road, by adding a full-width windscreen, a passenger seat and door, modifying the exhaust, and removing the vertical single tailfin. These modifications not withstanding, the XKSS was essentially a road-going race car. McQueen loved his, chassis #713, so much that he bought it twice. He affectionately named it "the Green Rat".

I found some nice images of the detailing of #713 from Motor Trend magazine, including the custom cubbyhole for McQueen's everpresent Persol sunglasses and the wood and steel vintage racing steering wheel.

Imagine that man and that car at that time in that town. Technically, he was married then (to international model Neile McQueen) and had a son, Chad, but I figure this is about as far from being OnceABachelor as you can be yet still qualify as one.