Tôkyô orinpikku

Japan's bid to host the 1940 Summer Olympics had been scuppered by the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War in 1937. The XV111 Olympiad of 1964 marked not only the first to be staged in Asia but confirmed the Land of the Rising Sun's readmission to the international community after WW11.

Director Kon Ichikawa has given us here what is, strictly speaking, a documentary but has also succeeded in transcending the genre by concentrating on the beauty, strength, lyricism and determination of those extraordinary beings known as athletes.

The only work with which it is comparable is Leni Riefenstahl's 'Olympia' of 1938 which remains the template by which all others are judged and it is highly unlikely that Ichikawa was unaware of that masterwork, especially in terms of Riefenstahl's superlative editing.

Of course Ichikawa had at his disposal the very latest technical requirements in terms of camera numbers and sound equipment whilst the editing here by Tatsuji Nakashishu is exemplary.

There are so many moments to treasure and it is inevitable that a viewer's enjoyment will be coloured by how much or how little he or she likes a particular discipline. Let's face it, shot-putting, hammer throwing and weightlifting are simply not as 'sexy' as sprints, relays and gymnastics.

Many will lament that some events are given such short shrift. We are given only the briefest glimpse of the mighty Joe Frazier in the ring, Frenchman D'Oriola is shown winning Equestrian Gold twelve years after his Helsinki win but the total absence of Dressage is regrettable.

It is highly probable however that some of these omissions are due to Ichikawa being obliged by the Olympic Committee to reduce the running length.

In terms of competitors we don't get to see much of Larissa Latynina, one of the greatest Olympians, in the floor gymnastics but as compensation we are able to marvel at the magnificence of Vera Cáslavská on the beam, in slow motion! Ichikawa has understandably concentrated on fellow countryman Yukio Endo's display of strength and grace which made him the most successful male gymnast at the Games, not to mention the tearful win of the Japanese women's Volleyball team.

Riefenstahl has the aid of the music of Herbert Windt and here Toshiro Mayusumi does the honours. His music is inspired and very much suits the events, notably his jaunty accompaniments to the cycle and walking races and the balletic style of his music for the gymnasts. His greatest achievement is the inspiring music that accompanies Ethiopian Adibe Bikila's win in the final Marathon, thereby retaining the title he won in Rome four years earlier.

The release of the doves never ceases to move whilst the Japanese jet planes forming Olympic circles is particularly impressive. Not for the first time the image of a mass of umbrellas in the rain is dramatically effective.

Riefenstahl made the lighting of the Olympic flame an almost spiritual experience. Here it is especially poignant in that it is lit by student Yoshinoi Sakai who happened to be born near Hiroshima on that fateful day, August 6th, 1945. What more can one possibly say?

Captures the intensity and drama of Olympic competition and it's nice to learn about athletes of whom I was ignorant, like Ann Packer, as well as to be reminded of the glories of ones I'd forgotten, like Bob Hayes. Still, unless you're an OG junkie, which I, most sedulously, am not, then three hours of this is at least one too many. And I really coulda done without the 30 min opening ceremonies slash Japanese nationalist infomercial in the beginning. B minus.

See, I usually find watching sports boring as hell, but the way this is shot and assembled makes them compelling. And I did love the focus on things other than the sports themselves- the drink stations in the marathon, the weather conditions, the Olympic village, and of course the overview of the Olympics history + the opening ceremony at the film's beginning, which was probably overall my favourite sequence. The shots of Japan from the air, as well as that long shot of the runner with the torch ascending the staircase to light the flame are staggering.

Almost all the individual segments are fantastic, though. And it moves fast enough so if you don't find a sport particularly compelling (shotput was a snooze for me, and I don't like the weightlifting because it makes me incredibly uneasy and nervous), there will soon enough be a new sport covered. The filmmakers also had a good sense of how to long spend on each sport, and by and large made almost all of them cinematic in some way.

There's too many highlights to mention. Other than the opening, I did love the cycling and marathon (seeing the Japanese landscapes helped), and the USSR vs Japan in the women's volleyball final was fantastic, too. And don't know if this counts as a spoiler, but the story of the runner from the young nation of Chad was quite heartbreaking.

I have no idea how some of the shots in this were pulled off. Music is generally quite good too, and the voiceover/commentary was appreciated, too.

Even though I'm Australian, I couldn't help but want Japan to win most of the time. They seem like such wonderful people, as well as excellent hosts for a huge event like this.

From the shot of the rising sun at the beginning to the shot of the setting or rising sun (couldn't tell to be honest) at the end, I was really engaged, and even moved, particularly at the beginning and especially the end.

See, even if you don't like watching sports, or are intimidated by a nearly 3-hour runtime on a documentary, I would still highly recommend watching this. If it counts as a sports movie, it might well be one of my all-time favourites, and as far as documentaries go, it's an excellent example of that genre near its very best, too.

It might even be a suitable alternative to anyone disappointed about not getting any Tokyo Olympics in 2020.

It pales in comparison to Olympia, that gorgeous Olympic documentary made during the 1936 Olympics by the Nazis' head filmmaker, Leni Riefenstahl, but Kon Ichiwa's Tokyo Olympiad is quite a good film itself. It documents the 1964 Olympics, the first ever to be held in Asia. Like Riefenstahl, Kon Ichiwa attempts to construct a document of abstract beauty out of these amazing athletes, a testament to the human form. He succeeds at times, but it's too much just a document of the events at times and too little abstraction. And I can only watch so much running before I get bored! The film has its high points and low points. The best moments are during the opening and closing ceremonies, the bicycle race, volleyball, race walking, the marathon finale, and especially the gymnastics, which end the first half of the film. The gymnastics competition is the only sequence in the film that hits the same level as Olympia. It's also nice to see the events in color (there are a couple, notably the amazing hammer throw, in b&w). The black and white cinematography is beautiful in Olympia, but its even more wonderous to see the oranges of the sun and the Olympic flame and the colors of the flags and the athletes' multi-hued uniforms. And the widescreen cinematography is often gorgeous, although I don't necessarily think that a wider screen, just because it shows more action, is better than the old Academy ratio of 1.33:1. Riefenstahl used that aspect ratio masterfully, as Ichiwa does here. Perhaps the most disappointing part of the film is that we only get to see about thirty seconds of a boxing match with Joe Frazier, the only athlete whom I (and probably everyone else as well) recognized in the film (and then Ichiwa follows him most of the way to the locker room, until Frazier turns around and waves goodbye). There is, however, a high jumper from the U.S. near the beginning of the film named John Rambo. I don't think there's any relation between him and the psycho Vietnam soldier. Much of the second half is dull, and there are several events almost cruelly ignored. Well, maybe not ignored, but, for instance, there is perhaps half a minute of basketball. Perhaps it was an unpopular sport in Japan.

Kon Ichikawa's "Tokyo Olympiad," a record of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, is not only arguably one of the best sports documentaries ever made, it is also among the best documentaries ever made, period. It is everything one would expect from a man who is known as one of the premiere stylists of the cinema and more. It is poetry, it is art, and it is almost ruthlessly compelling.

Whereas most sports documentaries are relatively cut and dry in that they focus mainly on the winners, Ichikawa has almost no regard for winning or losing at all. For him, it is about the event, the preparation and the movement embodied in Olympic competition - and the film follows both the winners and the losers. The film is incredibly textural. Sight, sound, and movement - even the most imperceptible - all weave together to form a remarkable tapestry that is as much about the director's own concerns as it is about the Games themselves. It is for this reason that the film initially had a rather stormy reception from those that had commissioned Ichikawa to make the film (and given him an army of cameramen to do so), though if my recollection is correct it went on to break box-office records in Japan. "Tokyo Olympiad" is not a film about the victory of winning, it is about the victory of attending - of being amongst the awesome crowds, the athletes, the bodies in motion. Being there is it's own victory, which is why Ichikawa focuses so much on the athletes from the newly formed African nation of Chad who, although they do not come close to winning any medals, are the first representatives of their country to appear in the Olympic Games. For Ichikawa their story is just as triumphant as that of the Ethiopian long-distance runner who unflinchingly leaves all his opponents in the dust and goes on to win his event by a mile. "Tokyo Olympiad" is not just about the realm of athletic or Olympic experience, it is about the human experience and about creating cinema out of it. At nearly 3 hours in length it is neither a minute too short or too long, and I personally feel privileged to have seen it.