Chariots of Fire

Every time I watch this 1981 film, it gets better and better; or, rather, I appreciate it more and more. I often find myself moved by stories that tell about things that were. The film opens in 1979 at the funeral of Harold Abrahams. Now only two of the friends are alive from those glorious days in 1924, "when we had hope in our hearts and wings on our heels." It then transitions to the title sequence where the four main friends are singled out as they run along the beach with Vangelis' music ringing true to the feelings of hope and nostalgia. Over this past summer, I held a film discussion group for members of my church where we would watch a movie and discuss it, primarily for its spiritual themes. When I was discussing which films to show, invariably, this one came up. I balked at the idea because, now, nearly 25 years later, it is one of the few regarded icons of "Christian" filmmaking. There was no challenge to it to stretch my audience. My pastor likened it to him constantly teaching a sermon on John 3:16. A strong analogy. The popularity of both doesn't make either any less profound, merely more difficult to gain new insight. This time, however, realizing that the writer of the (magnificent) screenplay was not a Christian, he was able to tackle religious themes and Christian ideals with more dignity, respect, and fairness than, I think, even I, as a Christian, would be able. This is the kind of film that exudes the kind of dignity that only a British film could. This is an era where honor and sportsmanship were more important than the win. As a runner myself, I recognize the crudity of some of their training, their methods, and their tracks, but to runners like Eric Liddell, that's not the point, because "when I run, I feel His pleasure." It's unfortunate that director, Hugh Hudson hasn't gone on to a more illustrious career, because at times I was in awe of how well directed this film was. Some of the aspects that stood out to me were the scene transitions, the use of sound, the the De Palma-esque use of slow motion. Nothing is hokey, and the film is far from riddled with the cliches of sports movies that we have come to expect, because the film cares about its character and makes the human. In the mind of the audience, the victory has already come before the final race even begins because Liddell stands up for his principles and Abrahams proved himself by learning who he is. The performances are all strong. I am particularly fond of Ian Charlson as Liddell, and Ian Holm as Abraham's trainer, Sam Mussabini. As I mention before, we musn't forget Vangelis' evocative, synthesized score which captures the mood and the memory so beautifully. The main theme is a legend of pop culture, but listen to the other pieces. The quiet pieces that reflect the anticipation of the race or evoke the pains of defeat. The synthesized hymn as Liddell runs one of his first races. And the emotional piece as he runs his final race. Years from now, when I am sitting at the funeral of one of my friends and I look back on these years, I would like to say that I ran a race with passionate zeal for the glory of God, but I fear, at best, I will only be able to say that I watched a lot of movies and maybe even made a handful of half-way decent movies. For some reason, it doesn't seem as significant or dignified as running along a beach with hope in my heart and wings on my heels.