Here's a very unusual view of the Olympics. It's not the vast number of cameramen involved; that's a given with the Olympics. It's that this movie is credited to eight directors, all of them distinguished: Kon Ichikawa -- back after TOKYO OLYMPIAD; Milos Forman; Claude Lelouch; Yuriy Ozerovnn; Michael Pfleghar; John Schlesinger; and Mai Zetterling. Each of them speaks a brief introduction to his - or her -- segment; and then there's music by Henry Mancini, for more orotund and distinguished than his usual sprightly, rag tunes.
There have been brilliant Olympic movies, and annoying ones, and movies that seemed to be collections that sort of vaguely showed you the exertions while muttering platitudes. The choices made in the production of this one strive valiantly to live up to those ideals, and I think it succeeds.
It's dedicated to the eleven athletes murdered at the Olympics.
There have been brilliant Olympic movies, and annoying ones, and movies that seemed to be collections that sort of vaguely showed you the exertions while muttering platitudes. The choices made in the production of this one strive valiantly to live up to those ideals, and I think it succeeds.
It's dedicated to the eleven athletes murdered at the Olympics.