The news that shooting has started on the Lauda/Hunt film Rush has been greeted with great anticipation in the world of F1. Buoyed by the success of the Senna movie investors have put their money into the tale of two strong-willed individuals pitted in one of the most climactic seasons of racing, 1976.
Confidence has also grown in the fact that it's been scripted by Peter Morgan, the man responsible for The Queen, Frost/Nixon, The Last King of Scotland and the dramatisation of Tinker, Taylor, Soldier, Spy - which ironically beat Senna to win the BAFTA for Best British film. And also the fact that it's being directed by Ron Howard, responsible for Splash, Cocoon, Willow, Parenthood, Backdraft - he clearly likes single word film titles - Apollo 13, Frost/Nixon, and Angels & Demons.
In some respects, going back to the 1970s is much easier than shooting something from the 1990s because we're still racing at many of the key circuits that were in use in the 90s. On non-F1 circuits the tracks and grandstands haven't changed that much, because they haven't had run-offs expanded and extra chicanes added. Back in 1976 there were rounds at Zolder (Belgium), Anderstorp (Sweden), Paul Ricard (France), Brands Hatch (Britain), the Osterreichring (Austria), Zandvoort (Holland), Mosport Park (Canada) and Watkins Glen (USA). Most importantly, the key action will surround the almost fatal accident Niki Lauda endured at the Nurburgring, the old Nurburgring, the Nordschieffe.
To have a driver injured so badly that he's given the last rites by a priest yet still comes back to race six weeks later is remarkable enough, but the background to his accident has added poignancy. At over 14 miles in length, the old Nurburgring was very dangerous to drive because of its sheer length - Lauda was the only person to lap it in under seven minutes on his way to the 1975 title. A feat he achieved in Saturday qualifying and described as "the ultimate madness". In the 1960s the cars used to take off like WRC cars over various 'jumps' that had thankfully been flattened by the 1970s. Nevertheless 1976 was going to be the last race and long before the grand prix Lauda suggested that the drivers boycott the event because of the danger factor. That didn't go down well in the German press because the organisers had already spent a lot of money - seemingly wasted now - on improving safety standards. The other drivers voted that it should go ahead and on the opening lap Lauda had to be rescued from his burning Ferrari by Guy Edwards, Brett Lunger, Harold Ertl but most courageous of all, Arturio Merzario. "My real saviour was Arturio Merzario, who plunged into the flames with total disregard for his own life and unbuckled my safety harness," Lauda wrote in his autobiography.* Without his intervention there would be no Rush.
After the accident, which Ferrari's head mechanic Ermanno Cuoghi suspected was caused by the rear left tie-rod detaching from the engine unit causing the rear wheel mounting to fail, Lauda had no recollection of events. The only footage of the incident was captured by a fifteen-year-old boy with an 8mm home movie camera and shows Lauda's 312T2 snapping right, crashing into the embankment and bouncing back onto the track where it was hit by Brett Lunger's Surtees, at which point it burst into flames. Looking back at the footage Lauda said he could see his car's petrol tank go flying in the impact which also must have helped lessen the inferno.
A bizarre event that happened before the race might be included in Peter Morgan's script, and if it is, then it's not a fiction on the film-maker's part. Arriving at the track he had heavily criticised earlier in the year Lauda got stuck in a traffic jam. "A man comes over to the car and shoves a picture through the open window: Jochen Rindt's grave. He is plainly quite delighted with himself because he has been able to show it to me. What is he trying to say? What kind of reaction am I supposed to have?"
It is certainly a story with all kinds of dramatic twists and turns and with death a familiar occurrence in F1 at the time it will certainly put into perspective modern drivers' moans about not having a "happy bubble" around them at grand prix weekends.
The other movies 'in development' have similar dramatic impetus, with tragedy an integral part of their story arc. The friendship between Ferrari drivers Peter Collins and Mike Hawthorn, portrayed in great detail in Chris Nixon's book, Mon Ami Mate, could make a great film. Similarly Joe Saward's book about the first winner of the Monaco Grand Prix, William Grover-Williams, is a boy's own tale about success and ultimate tragedy. In 1929 Williams beat off the challenge of favourite Rudolf Caracciola in a Mercedes to win the first Monaco Grand Prix in his Bugatti 35B. Married to a French woman and living in France at the outbreak of war, Williams is recruited by the Special Operations Executive (SOE) as an agent and sent back to occupied Paris to coordinate sabotage cells. In 1943 he is betrayed to the secret police and sent to Sachsenhausen concentration camp by the Nazis. He is executed in the Spring of 1945 within sight of the end of the war.
Both would make stirring tales, but epic stories aren't always a guarantee of successful films. The BBC's drama about Manchester United's Busby Babes and the 1958 Munich air tragedy, United, should have been a triumph given the casting of David Tennant and Dougray Scott, but fell a long way short. Let's hope for better with Rush.
Frank Hopkinson
* Some F1 drivers' autobiographies - even those you admire - can make you slightly nauseous. To Hell And Back by Niki Lauda, first published in 1986 is not one of those. It's one of the best. It includes his dealings with March, Alain Prost and Ron Dennis among others. And you can pick up a used copy for next to nothing on e.Bay or Amazon.