Downhill Racer

The appeal of a ski film to those who ski is obvious. But imagine yourself innocent of skiing. Can it hold the attention of the rest of us? Roone Arledge and his "Wide World of Sports" provided one answer, as Jean Claude Killy and his successors skied into American living rooms on many winter Saturdays. "Downhill Racer" seconds the motion.

The late Mike Ritchie, who'd essayed nothing more ambitious than commercials, traveled the World Cup circuit in the 1967-68 winter, accompanied by Aspen novelist Jim Salter, whose screenplay (from Oakley Hall's very different novel) effectively was written in segments the night before each shoot. Almost everything about this production was improvised.

Athletes are not necessarily interesting people. Killy was; stories about him, some even true, are legion. David Chappellet (a young Robert Redford), more typically, reminds one of the astronauts in "2001", with their limited range of expressions and nothing particularly interesting to say. This comes across powerfully in several hilarious interview scenes, with American and European journalists trying in vain to get the young man to say something worth writing down.

Wengen, Switzerland passes for several World Cup race sites. (A Swiss medico wears an armband identifying him as "Arzt", or doctor, at a supposed French venue). The filmmakers also were present in Grenoble for the Winter Olympics, providing a fictional inside look at the Games far different from that of, for example, "Chariots of Fire".

One still doesn't ski, but the pleasures of "Downhill Racer" are undeniable.

Redford gives a low-key performance as a thoroughly unlikable member of the US Ski Team in the late 1960's, and he doesn't become any more likable as the story unfolds. Perhaps that's why the film gets such mixed reviews. The Olympic and racing sequences have an almost-documentary look to them, and for good reason. The story goes that IOC officials refused permission for the film crew to shoot during the actual Olympic events; the producers got around that inconvenience by giving hand-held cameras to cast members so they could shoot crowd scenes and background footage on the sly. It's hard to like David Chappellet, and making him a more sympathetic character might have been easier, but I think it's a much better story as-is. As we know all too well these days, world-class athletes aren't always aren't always the charming heroes we'd like them to be.

Well filmed, almost documentary style look at the world of Alpine skiing (aside from bizarrely over-dramatic music at times). The skiing scenes are generally exciting to watch, and get better as the film goes on. The acting is also good in a purposely muted way, with Redford trying to play against type as a driven but strangely detached individual, who has sublimated his entire personality in the desire to be a champion. Perhaps as a result of this 'hero', watching the film is never all that stimulating. Afterwards, one appreciates the intelligence of the acting and directorial choices made and the effect of certain scenes - the hero with his dreary dad or the girl back home, the new 'fashionable' girl who is more selfish than him, they way he shuts her up when she tries to 'gently' ditch him, the coach with one eye on the profits to be made but humane enough to care about his team. The ending is particularly memorable, designed to make us question the very cliche of wanting the hero to be the winner. In that respect (underlying irony) it shares something with other Michael Ritchie films I have seen- The Candidate and Smile. Just not as much fun maybe.

I lived southwest part of metro Denver for a few years. They say "Dave Chappelette, from Idaho Springs, Ida --- Colorado." I think that sounds familiar. Dave goes home to visit Pa. Drives around. I think "That looks like one of those towns along I-70, that watches the world go by. When you grow up in one of those towns, who wouldn't want to get away and make a name for himself?"

Excellent film. People who think there is something wrong with Dave are over-wrought and under-nourished.

Self-denial is for losers, cuz it's not exactly a team sport, is it?

Even before it was made, this concept was a hard sell: a movie about a sport where people crouch down and go in 1 direction, downhill. Seriously, you might be more interested in a film about shepherding buffaloes ("Buffalo Boy" which I actually recommend). But wait... "Downhill Racer" is a surprisingly deep, dramatic and poignant experience that shouldn't be missed by any cinephile.

Plot summary: a guy crouches down and goes in 1 direction, downhill.

Now put that in your pocket and forget about it. The real juice of the story is, as actor & producer Robert Redford said, about crashing the common platitude that we're all told "It isn't about winning or losing; it's how you play the game."

Redford plays a character named "Chapellet" who is a very skilled, dashingly handsome, all-American athlete who happens to be a totally uneducated, self-absorbed egotist. But he becomes the darling of the slopes and the media favourite because he wins and looks good. This film was remarkably prescient back in 1969, long before the respected field of athletics was crashed by sensational bad boys like the long haired Andre Agassi who usurped Wimbledon in the 90s, or even the foul-mouthed Jimmy Conners who preceded him (foul mouthed by 80s standards which is kindergarten stuff today). My point is that beginning around 1970 there's been a fascinating split between the respectable Wheaties-box athletic archetype vs the punk who happens to be better. And if you focus on this theme, you'll see that it applies to areas far outside the ski slopes. How many of us have worked our bodies & minds to the bone for that big promotion, only to be passed over for the flashy young whippersnapper who--counfound it--is just BETTER.

Augmented with fantastic camera realism which gives a lot of scenes a documentary or reality show vibe, "Downhill Racer" gets under your skin from the opening scene where a skier gets his legs shattered, then continues to hold our attention as we eavesdrop on conversations between the ski team and the coach (brilliantly played by Gene Hackman) as well as Redford himself whose character is sort of dumb lunk who can't communicate in complete sentences and who manages to express his romantic feelings to a graceful European socialite by honking a car horn. The film is full of great moments like that, driving the point home that, no it isn't about how you play the game, it's whether you win or lose.