Tôkyô orinpikku

A true celebration of the poetry of the human body, as athletes attempt to live up to the Olympic motto, "Citius, Altius, Fortius," Faster, Higher, Stronger.

Director Kon Ichikawa knew that impressionistic images of the athletes, audience, and even those working at the games held great power, and used cinematic artistry instead of giving viewers a dry accounting of the results for all events. The way he shot this was brilliant. There's a medley of long shots, close-ups, unique camera angles, and an attention to little details that are completely irrelevant to the outcome of events, and yet are strangely compelling. He isolates sounds the athletes were making, e.g. Footfalls, shot put landings, the whoosh of an athlete swinging around on the uneven bar, and integrates it with other elements of the soundtrack which gives the documentary an epic feel.

He tells the human story of some of the athletes but even there he uses a light touch, not expounding on all of the details in the packaged, glitzy form you might see in modern games. This feels very much like the things that caught his eye as an observer, spanning the gamut from sublime moments of athletic achievement to silly little rituals or facial expressions. He realizes an athlete from Chad is older than his country, and shows not just his race (where he didn't qualify for the final) but also him quietly eating in isolation from other athletes afterwards. At other moments he focuses on those who have fallen or are struggling to finish, something the epitomized the spirit of the games well.

There are drawbacks to this approach, however. The coverage of the events is uneven to say the least, with some getting less than a minute and others going on for so long that my attention wandered. Because he's presenting this more as art as opposed to journalism, we're not told of some of the more interesting aspects of the games. Some examples: the 1-0 result of the field hockey final between bitter rivals India and Pakistan, the fact that Joe Frazier (initially just a reserve) was boxing with a broken thumb en route to his gold medal, how Ann Packer of England was originally going to take a shopping trip instead of run the 800m, and had only run five 800m domestic races before winning gold, and how gymnast Larisa Latynina of the USSR set the lifetime record for medals (18!) at these games (one which stood until Michael Phelps came along).

We don't hear of how Billy Mills from the United States was an Oglala Lakota Native-American who was a virtual unknown going into the games, making his stunning gold in the 10km race one of the greatest upsets of all time, or how the Olympic torch was lit by a man who was born on the day of the Hiroshima bombing. We also don't see anything at all of the basketball final between undefeated Cold War rivals USA and USSR, but do see quite a bit of coverage for events that Japan medaled in. It can't all be presented given the sheer breadth of the games, and one person's interests are bound to be different from another's, but those were some of the things that ended up a little frustrating for me, much as I admired how artistic the documentary was.

Kon Ichikawa's "Tokyo Olympiad," a record of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, is not only arguably one of the best sports documentaries ever made, it is also among the best documentaries ever made, period. It is everything one would expect from a man who is known as one of the premiere stylists of the cinema and more. It is poetry, it is art, and it is almost ruthlessly compelling.

Whereas most sports documentaries are relatively cut and dry in that they focus mainly on the winners, Ichikawa has almost no regard for winning or losing at all. For him, it is about the event, the preparation and the movement embodied in Olympic competition - and the film follows both the winners and the losers. The film is incredibly textural. Sight, sound, and movement - even the most imperceptible - all weave together to form a remarkable tapestry that is as much about the director's own concerns as it is about the Games themselves. It is for this reason that the film initially had a rather stormy reception from those that had commissioned Ichikawa to make the film (and given him an army of cameramen to do so), though if my recollection is correct it went on to break box-office records in Japan. "Tokyo Olympiad" is not a film about the victory of winning, it is about the victory of attending - of being amongst the awesome crowds, the athletes, the bodies in motion. Being there is it's own victory, which is why Ichikawa focuses so much on the athletes from the newly formed African nation of Chad who, although they do not come close to winning any medals, are the first representatives of their country to appear in the Olympic Games. For Ichikawa their story is just as triumphant as that of the Ethiopian long-distance runner who unflinchingly leaves all his opponents in the dust and goes on to win his event by a mile. "Tokyo Olympiad" is not just about the realm of athletic or Olympic experience, it is about the human experience and about creating cinema out of it. At nearly 3 hours in length it is neither a minute too short or too long, and I personally feel privileged to have seen it.

While I've yet to see all of what many consider to be THE document of 20th century Olympics in Riefensthal's Olympia (it is, of course, a very long movie, and we only saw bits in a class), this document of the 1964 Tokyo Olympics by Kon Ichikawa is quite the spectacle on its own. Ichikawa understands something that five years later Michael Wadleigh, director of Woodstock, would understand about filming an event (though Woodstock will always be the better, more incredibly watchable film for me). And it is, simply put, to make it an EVENT- in bold letters- for people who may not even really usually watch the Olympics. The way he uses his many, many, many cameras an exhaustively large crew is staggering, and just in the first half hour or so, when the countries all line up and the audience fills in as the games kick off, it's done in a very dynamic style. He alternates interestingly between big wide shots of the crowds (like Woodstock, seeming larger than it really is with everyone packed in thousands of masses), the stadium itself, and then to close-ups of individuals and bodies moving. It's this side of the film, the technical one, that is most worthwhile to see in the film.

If it's less than perfect, it's because, frankly, it almost does become 'too much' to see so many games that go on in the near three-hour running time. And the narration voice that pops up now and again sounds way too much like a narrator from old newsreels, trying to add emphasis where it's not really needed. It's too immense an event with too many goals vied for victory to add on extra words. But there are highlights though, such as the 100 meter dash, done in a slow-motion that might echo some of Ichikawa's other narrative films. And the Joe Frazier boxing match, while brief, is memorable. Sometimes Tokyo Olympiad comes off almost like an avant-garde film as much as it does just straight-on documentary, and it's here that I got drawn in. Of all major events involving sports and other games and activities and trials and such, the Olympics brings together all cultures for the sake of competing for a country's honor and respect, and Ichikawa has a very good balance between showing that and adding a distinct style to the numerous events. In fact, Ichikawa has what might be the best avant-garde sports documentary ever made, at least in the past forty or so years.

Japan's bid to host the 1940 Summer Olympics had been scuppered by the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War in 1937. The XV111 Olympiad of 1964 marked not only the first to be staged in Asia but confirmed the Land of the Rising Sun's readmission to the international community after WW11.

Director Kon Ichikawa has given us here what is, strictly speaking, a documentary but has also succeeded in transcending the genre by concentrating on the beauty, strength, lyricism and determination of those extraordinary beings known as athletes.

The only work with which it is comparable is Leni Riefenstahl's 'Olympia' of 1938 which remains the template by which all others are judged and it is highly unlikely that Ichikawa was unaware of that masterwork, especially in terms of Riefenstahl's superlative editing.

Of course Ichikawa had at his disposal the very latest technical requirements in terms of camera numbers and sound equipment whilst the editing here by Tatsuji Nakashishu is exemplary.

There are so many moments to treasure and it is inevitable that a viewer's enjoyment will be coloured by how much or how little he or she likes a particular discipline. Let's face it, shot-putting, hammer throwing and weightlifting are simply not as 'sexy' as sprints, relays and gymnastics.

Many will lament that some events are given such short shrift. We are given only the briefest glimpse of the mighty Joe Frazier in the ring, Frenchman D'Oriola is shown winning Equestrian Gold twelve years after his Helsinki win but the total absence of Dressage is regrettable.

It is highly probable however that some of these omissions are due to Ichikawa being obliged by the Olympic Committee to reduce the running length.

In terms of competitors we don't get to see much of Larissa Latynina, one of the greatest Olympians, in the floor gymnastics but as compensation we are able to marvel at the magnificence of Vera Cáslavská on the beam, in slow motion! Ichikawa has understandably concentrated on fellow countryman Yukio Endo's display of strength and grace which made him the most successful male gymnast at the Games, not to mention the tearful win of the Japanese women's Volleyball team.

Riefenstahl has the aid of the music of Herbert Windt and here Toshiro Mayusumi does the honours. His music is inspired and very much suits the events, notably his jaunty accompaniments to the cycle and walking races and the balletic style of his music for the gymnasts. His greatest achievement is the inspiring music that accompanies Ethiopian Adibe Bikila's win in the final Marathon, thereby retaining the title he won in Rome four years earlier.

The release of the doves never ceases to move whilst the Japanese jet planes forming Olympic circles is particularly impressive. Not for the first time the image of a mass of umbrellas in the rain is dramatically effective.

Riefenstahl made the lighting of the Olympic flame an almost spiritual experience. Here it is especially poignant in that it is lit by student Yoshinoi Sakai who happened to be born near Hiroshima on that fateful day, August 6th, 1945. What more can one possibly say?

See, I usually find watching sports boring as hell, but the way this is shot and assembled makes them compelling. And I did love the focus on things other than the sports themselves- the drink stations in the marathon, the weather conditions, the Olympic village, and of course the overview of the Olympics history + the opening ceremony at the film's beginning, which was probably overall my favourite sequence. The shots of Japan from the air, as well as that long shot of the runner with the torch ascending the staircase to light the flame are staggering.

Almost all the individual segments are fantastic, though. And it moves fast enough so if you don't find a sport particularly compelling (shotput was a snooze for me, and I don't like the weightlifting because it makes me incredibly uneasy and nervous), there will soon enough be a new sport covered. The filmmakers also had a good sense of how to long spend on each sport, and by and large made almost all of them cinematic in some way.

There's too many highlights to mention. Other than the opening, I did love the cycling and marathon (seeing the Japanese landscapes helped), and the USSR vs Japan in the women's volleyball final was fantastic, too. And don't know if this counts as a spoiler, but the story of the runner from the young nation of Chad was quite heartbreaking.

I have no idea how some of the shots in this were pulled off. Music is generally quite good too, and the voiceover/commentary was appreciated, too.

Even though I'm Australian, I couldn't help but want Japan to win most of the time. They seem like such wonderful people, as well as excellent hosts for a huge event like this.

From the shot of the rising sun at the beginning to the shot of the setting or rising sun (couldn't tell to be honest) at the end, I was really engaged, and even moved, particularly at the beginning and especially the end.

See, even if you don't like watching sports, or are intimidated by a nearly 3-hour runtime on a documentary, I would still highly recommend watching this. If it counts as a sports movie, it might well be one of my all-time favourites, and as far as documentaries go, it's an excellent example of that genre near its very best, too.

It might even be a suitable alternative to anyone disappointed about not getting any Tokyo Olympics in 2020.