‘The Games' with all the fun

Press, 7 August 1976, Page 11

‘The Games' with all the fun

By

A. K. GRANT

Th*re were three very funn programmes on tele’ sion on Thursday evening "M.A.5.H.,--Dai' Army” and "The Games.” “Dads Army” was as good as ever, and Mainwarings' decision to enlist in the ranks of the platoon he had formerly commandt 1 was a genuinely dramatic moment. •‘M.AS.fi” was not particuiarlv dramatic, but the fiip. throwaway wisecracks were as plentiful and delivered with as much polish as ever. Neither of these programmes, however, could hold a candie to Michael Winner’s comic masterpiece. "The Games." Made in 1970, “The Gam dealt with the fortunes of a group of maratb n runners in a fictional Olympics held in Rome ;n that year Winner's cetnic genius was evident from the outset in the brilliant effects he achiev'd from superb mis-cast-og. Miscasting is one of the basic techniques of comedy production, and seldom has it been employed to better effect. For examp.e, Jeremy Brett, PC. Steele of the early "Z-Csrs." was cast as an Australian bookie with an accent as counterfeit as the amateur status of his Aboriginal protege. The British entrant, heir to the traditions of Banms* ■' Ibbotson, Brasher and Bedford, was played by Michael Crawford, a piece of miscasting equivalent to casting Dudley Moore as Peter Snell. The Aboriginal runner was actually played by an Aboriginal, a piece of casting which at least avoided the condescension of having him played by a Black and White Minstrel, though I doubt if Lionel Rose or Evonne Goolagong would have been pleased with his performance or the attitudes he put up with. Nor I imagine would Frank Shorter, marathon silver medallist at Montreal. have been especially ecstatic at the picture of an American runner limned by Ryan O'Neal, by no means the world's

worst actor since he is by no means an actor.

The most wonderful piece ot miscasting, however, was of Charles Aznavour, a French singer, as a Czech colonel, the iron man of world running. Winner brought off a onlliant double effect here, since Aznavour was equal'v unbelievable as botn a colonel and a runner. A great opportunitv was nevertheless missed. Aznavour is the composer of a song, the refrain of which as sung by him in English goes: “1 hees tarm, thees tarm, thees tarm — there’s no tarm to waste.” It is, of course, a ditty most apt for a marathon runner and I kept waiting tor him to puff it out as he rounded up the Appian Wav, but alas, it was not to be, Tlvre was even a sinister Abraham Ordia figure who tried to persuade the Aboriginal not to run for the white man. I think it was jolly poor of Winner not to cast Charlton Heston as Lance Cross, to put New Zealand's unanswerable case in reply. I also got very worried about the moral danger that Michael Crawford may have been in from his coach. Stanley Baker. After Crawford had spent a night with his girlfriend, Baker got most upset and called her a filthy bitch.

Anybody who has that j view o f the female half of | a heterosexual relationship is not the sort of person 1 would go off to spend week-ends in a lonely farmhouse with. I Crawford did so, and I be- I lieve his collapse in the i stadium may well have i been direct moral retribu- i tion tor certain acts.

If so, then Baker cost Britain a gold medal, and I can only hope that he has no place in British athletics at the present time.

All in all a delightful comic romp, and certainly a great deal more entertaining than the real Games, where everybody has to play 'themselves. I look forward with eager interest to Mr Winner’s film cf the Montreal Games, with Les Dawson as John Walker and Peter Sellers as the New Zealand hockey -team.