I'm a geezer now, as was Bert Munro during the period this film depicts, but when he was setting the records at Bonneville, I was a very young, and very broke, motorcycle racer. I even had the honor of meeting Bert briefly when he was in California.
But that's not what this review is about. It's about the absolutely amazing attention to detail in the film. Munro's bike, the shop, the tools, the cobbled-together machinery, the low-tech transportation, ... all dead on the money in authenticity. The entire film is like a string of old racing photographs, come to life.
Anyone interested in what really went on back then, before full-ride sponsorships and corporate super-events became the norm, should see this film. Even the audio is authentic. When Mickey Thompson's 4-engined, 32-cylinder "Challenger" rolls off on a land speed run, that's the actual sound of the original runs you hear in the background.
I have to admit that when a replica of Dr. Nathan Ostich's "Flying Caduceus" rolled by in one scene, I got a bit of a lump in my throat, remembering those who died in their attempts to "be the fastest". Despite the light-hearted goofiness shown in the film, never forget that these people were deadly serious about a seriously deadly sport. Land Speed Record racers were a special, if slightly odd, bunch. Even those of us who raced "normal" events were a bit in awe of the "LSR people."
As someone else mentioned, there are a few corny scenes early in the film that might make the purists wince a bit, but the payoff is worth it. Anyone who lived through those times will instantly recognize the slightly over-bearing track officials, and the (fortunately) loose attitudes towards rules-bending.
All in all, this film perfectly captures a time and an attitude that we will never see again. Racing is definitely safer now, but we're only having one-tenth of the fun and satisfaction Munro experienced, way back when.
But that's not what this review is about. It's about the absolutely amazing attention to detail in the film. Munro's bike, the shop, the tools, the cobbled-together machinery, the low-tech transportation, ... all dead on the money in authenticity. The entire film is like a string of old racing photographs, come to life.
Anyone interested in what really went on back then, before full-ride sponsorships and corporate super-events became the norm, should see this film. Even the audio is authentic. When Mickey Thompson's 4-engined, 32-cylinder "Challenger" rolls off on a land speed run, that's the actual sound of the original runs you hear in the background.
I have to admit that when a replica of Dr. Nathan Ostich's "Flying Caduceus" rolled by in one scene, I got a bit of a lump in my throat, remembering those who died in their attempts to "be the fastest". Despite the light-hearted goofiness shown in the film, never forget that these people were deadly serious about a seriously deadly sport. Land Speed Record racers were a special, if slightly odd, bunch. Even those of us who raced "normal" events were a bit in awe of the "LSR people."
As someone else mentioned, there are a few corny scenes early in the film that might make the purists wince a bit, but the payoff is worth it. Anyone who lived through those times will instantly recognize the slightly over-bearing track officials, and the (fortunately) loose attitudes towards rules-bending.
All in all, this film perfectly captures a time and an attitude that we will never see again. Racing is definitely safer now, but we're only having one-tenth of the fun and satisfaction Munro experienced, way back when.