Achilles Last Stand

Finally had the opportunity to see "Senna" at the Neon Movies yesterday, and it lived up to all of the advanced reviews given to it since it opened in the summer.

Ayrton Senna was certainly the greatest Formula 1 driver over a single lap in history. I am comfortable saying that, even as I wasn't necessarily a big fan of his at the time. But I had enough sense to realize his skills commanded respect.

Like a lot of top class racing drivers, he was absolutely obsessed with trying to find the magical "edge"--just how far the limits of the machine he was controlling went. A tenth of a second here, another tenth more. It's never enough, there's always more that can be gained. It's a lot like an addiction really, it the highest form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder that you can imagine. And his own obsession pushed him to a ruthlessness and single-mindedness that only a handful of drivers have ever come close to. Yet, he was a very spiritual man; he possessed an unshakeable faith in God. The film makes it a point to portray this as a counterpoint to his obsessive side.

We see the contemplative, serious Senna juxtaposed next to the relaxed, playful one. I think it's wrong to say he was driven by his demons, rather than he was driven to find perfection; as he says in an interview, he believes "that a perfect lap is like seeing God".

The tragedy of his story comes to the fore in the final 20 minutes. Driving a new car, with a new team, he struggles to find confidence enough to push towards the edge. You can see in his face he seems to almost doubt his own ability.

The 1994 San Marino Grand Prix, held at the Enzo e Dino Ferrari Circuit in Imola, Italy has to be seen today as the end of the Classical Age of Formula 1, and what we have today. 17 years on from that weekend, I still remember parts of it as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Seeing the footage again was like traveling back in time for me.

On Friday, there was maybe the most horrific crash I've ever seen in Formula 1, Rubens Barrichello (still driving today!) launched like a missle into the catch fence, 8 feet off the ground and landing head first in a sand pit.
Saturday saw another crash, at the time I saw it originally, I thought it was the least serious of the 3, however the footage in the film from an unseen (by me) angle proved me wrong. Roland Ratzenberger, in his first season--his 3rd race--with a team in it's first season, killed. There is a camera on Senna, he's watching from the garage. He gets extremely emotional.

Sunday, race day. May 1 1994. As the race begins, a car halfway back in the formation stalls. In the rush hour-like traffic that is an F1 start, a car from near the back doesn't see the stalled car until it's too late. That both drivers walked away from it is still a mystery today. A tire bounces over the catch fence and into the crowd. Debris everywhere.

During the cleanup period, as the cars circled around under behind the safety car, Senna was unhappy that it was not getting far enough ahead of the pack so that they could bring the tires up to temperature. You see him gesturing.

Finally, the green flag--we see the on-board footage from Senna's car. Sitting next to him almost. He streaks past the start/finish line, up a gear, up another, 5th, 6th, now into Tambourello corner--full throttle, 180 mph a quick flick of the steering wheel to the left.
Now he sliding, over the curbing, through the gravel trap, here's the wall closer.

We cut to the long lens shot from farther up track. The car is sliding along the wall then comes to rest. The moment of impact--the suspension piece that travels less than 4 feet--in the blink of an eye, is past. Senna isn't moving at all. The right side of the car destroyed. The course workers seem to not know what to do, the seconds seem like minutes. Finally, the emergency team arrives. It seems like hours until they extract him from the car.

The voice-over while they show the flatbed truck carry the wreckage of Senna's car makes the scene even more poignant--"he didn't have a broken bone in his body, not a bruise on him anywhere. If the piece had hit him 6" higher, or 6" lower, he would've walked away".

Though it's not in the film, the race resumed. Who won that day didn't seem to matter. There was no celebration, there was no champagne sprayed. By the time the race had ended, the news had filtered through. When I turned on the TV later that morning, maybe less than 45 minutes after the race had ended, the very first thing I saw on Sportscenter was Jack Edwards telling us that Senna was dead.

I cried that day, because I respected the man and knew that we had lost a legend in his own time. I cried during the last couple of minutes of the movies, as the took his casket from Italy, to Brazil, through a procession through the streets of Sao Paulo lined with people. To the church, his family, his friends come to mourn. They carried him to his final resting place. It's over.

Not many films have moved me as much this one.

Finding my Way

Blow the cobwebs off of this thing and see where my brain might lead us. There's no guarantee it won't be a bummer...
Well, here we are again on February 14, and there is a distinct sense of isolation in the air. By all rights, I shouldn't be alone this time around. I worked at a relationship, honestly and sincerely. But what was always going to be a bit of an uphill struggle was made precipitously more difficult by not really being able to trust the guide I was following. When you have no faith in the directions you're supposed to be using, you lack the faith in yourself to change course. Even the attempts you make to navigate by instinct are compromised by uncertainty and self doubt.

I find this to be a common theme in all of the romantic failings of my past. Sometimes I was too stubborn to follow the charted course, and sometimes I was just unlucky to have picked the wrong route. There is evidence to argue I was to blame for every one of those relationships not working out, and there is also enough to argue the opposite. The fact that I can admit that has taken a lot of soul searching through the years. The fact I have had to do it without the barest minimum of feedback is nothing short of amazing. Or outrageous if you like.

Still, you'd think I would've at least accidentally stumbled onto the right path at least once. I can't possibly be so stupid to always get lost on the lonely highway of love. Or am I?

Maybe the reason no one can or will help is that no one really knows what path I need or want to be headed down. Maybe I have not stated the reasons and rationale for aiming for a specific destination.
But perhaps dreaming of places you'd like to go is better suited to the young. Maybe I'm to the point where I should be happy letting the current take me wherever it goes, even if it to nowhere.

I'd like to think not, but there isn't anything on the horizon giving much hope.

Selah