There were only two sure fire guaranteed reactions I could count on in my long career of playing piano in lounges and
cruise ships: if I launched into Vince Guaraldi's "Linus and Lucy" from the Peanuts television specials, a hush
would fall on the crowd and I could be certain of two or three minutes of rapt listening; and if I played Vangelis' iconic
theme from Chariots of Fire someone somewhere would instantly start "slow motion running", even if they were
sitting down at the time. This hugely popular film has so entered the general public consciousness that even the opening
few notes of Vangelis' Academy Award winning theme instantly bring to mind visions of runners seemingly floating across a
beach in slow motion, a rather odd associative proclivity given the fact that Vangelis' score was a synth-heavy, ultra-80s
sounding endeavor while the film itself was an evocative recreation of several years spanning the late teens to the mid
twenties of the twentieth century. The epic historical film had fallen largely out of favor in the 1970s, but it's rather
interesting that the British reinvented the genre rather dramatically with Chariots of Fire in 1981 and
Gandhi in 1982. Chariots of Fire is by far the more intimate film, if less historically epochal than Sir Richard
Attenborough's account of India's guiding prophet of independence. However, the films share a certain tether in their
portrayal of a British Empire dealing with social sea changes it can't quite keep its thumb on, whether that be one of its
former colonies deciding to cut the figurative umbilical cord, or in this instance, the personal dramas of two radically
different athletes who ended up each earning Gold Medals for Britain in the Olympic Games of 1924.
Chariots of Fire rather evocatively (and not always rosily so) recreates the distinct class consciousness of 1920s
Cambridge as Harold Abrahams (Ben Cross), a Jew with a penchant for running, shows up to study and instantly rubs
up
against an incipient, if reserved (in that oh, so British fashion) anti-Semitism. Meanwhile in Scotland Eric Liddell (Ian
Charleson) discovers that while his penchant for running gains him near heroic status among a lot of his
kinsman,
his younger sister Jennie (Cheryl Campbell) is adamantly against her brother continuing his hobby as it will keep him
from
the family's "trade" of missionary work in China. Screenwriter Colin Welland does an exceptional job of quickly
introducing
both Abrahams and Liddell, as well as several supporting characters who will factor into the story as it goes along,
managing to quickly inform the audience as to the duo's basic motivating principles as well as to the obstacles each of
them in their own way faces.
The film is a rather potent albeit quite subtle examination of prevailing attitudes, even if it's wrapped up in a more or
less conventional sports story. Therefore we get hints of the almost genetic anti-Semitism that colors an elder
generation's view of Jews when an imperious college master (John Gielgud, who would trump Ian Holm from this film for
the 1981 Best Supporting Actor Academy Award for his hilarious turn in Arthur) tries to convince Abrahams that
undergoing training to better himself wouldn't be "gentlemanly", when of course the real subtext here is that no one
thinks a Jew should ever become good enough to represent the nation in an Olympic Games. (Holm portrays the trainer
who takes Abrahams under his wing and helps develop his talents for the Olympics.)
While Liddell, a devout Christian, doesn't encounter that kind of discrimination, he's in for his own brand of
trouble when his religious devotion keeps him from competing on Sundays, something that turns out to be a major (if
somewhat fictionalized) plot point in Chariots of Fire. (It's interesting to contrast Liddell's decision with another
famous decision—by a Jew—when Sandy Koufax refused to pitch the opening game of the 1965 World Series because it
fell on the Jewish High Holy Day of Yom Kippur.) Liddell finds himself a social pariah when his deeply held beliefs put him
at odds with a ruling class that sees him as one of its best chances to bring home Gold from the Games. This plays as a
rather nice flip side to Liddell's arguments with his sister, who finds his emphasis on running deplorable (since it
supposedly keeps him from worshiping God), to which Liddell calmly replies that running is in a very real way sacred to
him and a way of worshiping his Creator who saw fit to give him this talent.
Chariots of Fire is an impeccably handsome film, one suffused with a certain British reticence, but also one that
seethes with passion, albeit passion kept nicely tucked just beneath the surface. One might not think that a film this
Anglo-centric would have much universal appeal, and yet the film went on to become a box office sensation and ended
up winning four Oscars that year, including Best Picture. The film is incredibly heartfelt and manages to craft an
engaging story of unlikely rivals who become friends and even comrades, even as they each deal with different kinds of
religious prejudice ("prejudice" in its purest sense, as in pre-judging). The film manages to work in some piquant
commentary on religion and even the pseudo-religion of sports, while at the same time focusing on the triumph of the
spirit that Abrahams and Liddell each in their own way embodied.
Chariots of Fire is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Warner Brothers with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 1.78:1.
A lot of this film was purposefully shot in diffuse light with soft focus, and that may lead some to believe that this transfer is
less than exceptional. It isn't. This is yet another gorgeously cinematic experience from Warner, a studio which
consistently seems to recognize the value in doing the best possible job with its catalog assets. The elements here are in
wonderfully excellent shape, and David Watkin's gorgeous cinematography, which more often than not utilized natural
lighting schemes, is presented without any noticeable digital tweaking. Grain remains natural, and no egregious digital
sharpening or noise reduction is on display. Colors are wonderfully well saturated and the image is decidedly sharper and
more precise than it's even been on home video (the uptick is immediately noticeable from the first frames, with the beach
scene finally popping with a clarity that was previously like visual mush, especially in the wide shots). There are some minor
stability issues on the usual suspects like costumes
made of tweed or even stair banisters and the like, but generally this is an incredibly sharp and pleasing transfer that offers
abundant fine detail, strong contrast (with the understanding that some of the film is quite dark due to some of those
natural lighting conditions) and a very commendable filmic appearance.
Chariots of Fire features a lossless DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 mix that may strike some as being uncharacteristically
reserved for a sports oriented film. While it can't be denied that the mix does tend to favor the front channels, several key
sequences nicely open up into the surrounds, including several of the running segments and scenes which feature large,
boisterous crowds. The surround channels probably
are most clearly exploited by the interesting Vangelis score, a contemporary achievement that would seem to be completely
"wrong" for and at odds with
a film like this, but which works amazingly well nonetheless. It's even more remarkable when you consider that the film
also works in all sorts of source cues, including a copious amount of Gilbert and Sullivan, but things still sound coherent and
consistent. Fidelity is very strong in this presentation, with dialogue well prioritized and cleanly presented.
Deleted Scenes (SD; 13:27) includes Cricket in the Ballroom (Alternate European Scene with Optional
Commentary by Hugh Hudson accessed via a second running of the clip), Two Masters and Abrahams, Tea Dance,
Nationalism, Eric and Jennie Liddell Argue, Harold Abrahams Running Past a Car, and Harold and Sam Speak of Speeding
Up the Pace.
Behind the Story is split into several featurettes: Wings on Their Heels: The Making of 'Chariots of Fire' (SD; 27:18) is pretty standard fare, featuring interviews
with Hugh Hudson and the principal cast intercut with scenes from the film. 'Chariots of Fire': A Reunion (SD; 19:00) is a kind of "then and now" (now meaning 2004 in this instance) look at
several people involved in the film, including Nigel Havers, Hugh Hudson, David Puttnam, Nicholas Farrell and David
Watkin, all of whom are gathered in an opulent hotel room recounting their memories of the production. Paris, 1924: Birth of the Modern Games (HD; 27:21) is a really interesting look at the historical significance of
these Olympic Games and how the era of the 1920s and the siting of the Games in Paris combined to make for a very
unique situation. David Puttnam, A Cinematic Chamipion (HD; 25:40) is a nice overview of producer David Puttnam and his
contributions to British cinema as well as world cinema and other media exploits. Hugh Hudson: Journey to the Gold (HD; 14:06) is a first person reminiscence by Hudson, who talks about both
the boon and bane this film has meant to his career. Ben Cross and Patricia Hodge Screen Test (SD; 4:14) Ian Charieson Screen Test (SD; 4:34) Sprint Around the Quad (SD; 1:56) has David Puttnam, Hugh Hudson and Nigel Havers retracing the steps of one
of the film's sequences. Famous Opening Shot (SD; 1:06) features Ben Cross talking about the film's iconic opening.
Commentary by Hugh Hudson. While there are some rather large pregnant pauses throughout this
commentary, when Hudson does engage in reminiscing about the film, he's incredibly engaging and informative. He talks
about some of the liberties the film takes with the facts, as well as some of the subtexts, and mentions with some pride
that the entire film was shot on location, with absolutely no studio sets whatsoever utilized.
Theatrical Trailer (SD; 1:34)
DigiBook Packaging including a CD sampler featuring some of Vangelis' Oscar winning score
Chariots of Fire is one of the smartest films about athletes that's ever been made. Liddell and Abrahams
make for two extremely articulate heroes, and as they comment about their various trials and tribulations, the film manages
to work in a whole critique of British society even as it manages rather improbably to be a "rah rah" flag waving celebration
of British "superiority". The film is impeccably well crafted and remains one of the most handsome films of its era, full of epic
sweep but always staying focused on its main characters. This Blu-ray offers excellent video and audio and a nice mix of
new and returning supplements. Highly recommended.
For many cinephiles, the most exciting Blu-ray release this week comes courtesy of Twentieth Century Fox's Margaret disc. The story of a Manhattan teenager (True Blood's Anna Paquin) forced to cope with sudden, violent tragedy, filmmaker Kenneth Lonergan's follow-up ...
This summer, Warner Home Entertainment will bring Chariots of Fire to Blu-ray. Director Hugh Hudson's sports drama stars Ben Cross (Star Trek) and Ian Charleson (Gandhi) as two British sprinters competing in the 1924 Olympics. Chariots of Fire streets on July ...
