So, last time I tried to talk about the Olympics, I got got bogged down with all the pessimism and negativity which proceeded the event. This time around, I don’t want to do that. So here is my humble take on the Olympic opening ceremony (held on 27/07/12).
Our Green & Pleasant Land.
I have to admit, when I saw our first view of the Olympic stadium, dressed up like a quaint English village, my heart sank a little. This was one of the few details that we knew about beforehand (I guess trying to hide the construction of a massive chunk of countryside in the middle of the capital would have been a pointless endeavour). Instantly I thought “Oh no.”
You see, for me, the image of a quaint little England – complete with cricketers playing on the lawn and morris men dancing around the may-pole – is so old fashioned as to boarder on offensive. This lazy and tired stereotype of Britain has little to nothing to do with what it is to be a modern Brit and less still with what it is to be a Londoner in 2012.
For me, its just as mawkish and narrow sighted as pointing to a picture of Cletus “the slack-jawed yokel” Spuckler and saying “that’s what all Americans are like” – not what you’d expect from the director of Trainspotting and 28 Days Later! To my relief, the show moved on and the whole thing transformed.
Industrialisation.
Enter the engineers, represented by Isambard Kingdom Brunel – one of our greatest Britons – to conduct the transformation of the vista from the peaceful rural landscape into a bustling heart of industry – taking on a potted history of how the British evolved through the 20th century.
Now, I have some issues with ‘celebrating’ this episode of history (which I won’t go into details with here) which mainly stem from the successors of the industrial revolution – the age of commercialism and consumerism (both pseudonyms for exploitation in my book) and the observations of Dickens and Marx. But that’s all beside the point.
Back to the show: I didn’t like this section, but not because of the reservations and biases raised above, but for different (somewhat shallower) reasons. I understand this section was entitled something like Pandemonium and that’s exactly what it looked like. [Now, I feel I should give Danny Boyle credit for doing exactly what it says on the tin but…]
There was simply too much going at once. Smokestacks rose from the ground, the grass was rolled back to reveal a lattice of steel and concrete, Suffragettes marched and war soldiers mourned, The Chelsea Pensioners and the Sgt. Peppers circled as the people toiled. It was less a progression and more a hodgepodge dumped in the spectator’s lap. Now, I have a relatively good grasp of the history of Britain through the 20th century (only, don’t test me on it) but I struggled to keep up – so, I imagine, onlookers from overseas would find the whole thing a confusing, possibly alienating, open to the whole thing.
This section did, however, culminate in one of my favourite moments of the whole ceremony – the introduction of the Olympic rings (pictured above). The steelworkers at the heart of this hive of activity enacted the construction of a giant ring which, upon completion, rose into the air and was joined by the other four from the corners of the stadium to form a free-floating Olympic logo.
Its the symbolism inherent in this that really spoke to me. The notion that, as each person worked diligently on there small part of it, the parts would eventually combine to create, in essence, an Olympic games founded on hard work. To me, it was a nice salute to all of the organisers, large and small, who worked on putting the games together.
A Celebration of British Culture.
Next came what I’ve been calling ‘the fun bit’ – starting with the introduction of The Queen to the stadium – escorted by James Bond no less. A surreal meeting of world-renowned British icons (one real, one fictional) that couldn’t fail to resonate the funny-bone.
I’ve resisted the temptation of mentioning the Beijing games up to this point – ignoring the prevailing question “How will London top the Chinese opening ceremony?” From day one, we all knew that trying to outmatch the scale and spectacle of what they managed in 2008 would be foolish – so the only avenue left to us was to “make it our own.”
The inclusion of humour is one of the best ways of doing this – proud as we are of our nation’s wealth of comic talent and the general outlook of our people. This stands as a distinct contrast to Beijing which, by comparison, seemed to be a very serious affair.
My only gripe was that I would have liked to have seen some of the other Bond’s feature in some capacity (rather than just the current incarnation – Daniel Craig). Imagine our sovereign being escorted, Reservoir Dogs – style (which we are allowed to rip-off since that sequence itself is largely a rip-off of A Clockwork Orange) by not one, but six 007’s.
In fact, this puts me in mind of another icon of British fiction, easily a match for Bond in the international recognition stakes, who was strangely absent (see what I did there). Save for one brief sound clip of the TARDIS engine, there was no appearance from the good Doctor. If I was in charge (and thankfully, I’m not) I would have had the Bond’s and the surviving Who’s meet for the first time ever. That would’ve been epic!
But, enough of what didn’t happen, let’s get back to what did. The other highlight from this section was a sketch performed by Rowan Atkinson, reprising his role as Mr Bean. His inclusion was nothing short of a stroke of genius.
Mr Bean – being a silent act – is know around the world (like the stars of the silent age of cinema before him such as Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp character) since there is no language barrier to overcome. The inclusion of comedy, once again, marking us out from the rest of the world and emphasizing the importance of fun amongst the serious business of the games.
The final part of this section celebrated another aspect of British culture which we are massively proud of :- music. As the codifiers of rock ‘n’ roll (The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, The Who, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin – to name just a few) we have always had a love affair with creating and sharing good music.
This was depicted by one massive game of ‘name that tune’ which, hopefully, had many international viewers saying “I didn’t know that band/that song was British!” (but, in all likelihood, had just as many people saying “I’ve never heard of any of them”) The TV clips that accompanied this musical montage were pretty obscure so, if you are reading this outside of the UK and you recognised any of them – give yourself a pat on the back.
Enter the Olympians.
Everything up until this point has been window-dressing – entertaining and well executed window-dressing, but window-dressing none the less. The real reason we have gathered here is to find out which of the planet’s greatest athletes will claim the ultimate accolade and become an Olympic champion. And for that we need to introduce the athletes.
In past games, I have messed up the timing and tuned in late – missing ‘the fun bit’ and switching on just as the announcer says “We welcome Greece into the stadium” (Traditionally, the Greeks lead the procession into the stadium – being the spiritual inventors of the Olympics). This time around I had no such problem since 9pm actually meant 9pm. [Beijing being eight hours ahead, Athens just two ahead but Sydney being ten ahead and Atlanta being five behind. (I’m not even sure I’ve got that right – that’s how much international time-zones trip me up)]
This is an important part of the ceremony, commencing the ‘official’ part of the event which includes the oaths (which are very important) and the official opening of the games by the country’s premier (in this case our dear ol’ Queen)
Since this is largely the same from Olympiad to Olympiad, I’m struggling to find something new to say about ‘our take’ on this section. The only thing worth noting is the curious appearance of a collection of copper ‘petals’ which accompanied each nation’s flag as they entered the stadium (more on those later).
Light that bad boy up!
So after a brief interlude which included a performance from The Artic Monkeys (so there you go northerners – you were included) and the aforementioned oaths and speeches. We come to what for many is the crowning moment of any Olympic ceremony – the arrival of the torch.
Having travelled all the way from Athens, all the way around the nation and even making a cameo appearance on Eastenders – the Olympic flame finally arrived in the stadium via speed boat ‘piloted’ by David Beckham, up the Thames and into the hands of Sir Steven Redgrave.
As with previous games, speculation had been rife as to who would be the one to light the cauldron and start the games (even though The Queen had already officially done that by that point – but you know what I mean). As the winner of gold medals in five consecutive games and, legitimately, one of our greatest Olympians – Redgrave was many people’s pick for the honour of the task.
My pick? Daley Thompson. My reasoning being that, if the Olympics is the crown of all sporting achievement then the winner of the decathlon must be the jewel in the very centre because of having to master multiple disciplines. Alas, both me and the rest who placed their bets were delightfully wrong.
Instead of doing the traditional thing of giving the honour of taking the torch around the stadium to our best sporting legends and veterans – we decided to give that honour to a collection of up-and-coming future stars, nominated by our veterans (including Steve Redgrave, Daley Thompson and Dame Kelly Holmes – who was also highly tipped). Thus passing the torch in the most literal fashion possible.
So who of this group of youngsters would be the one to light the cauldron? Well, again against the odds, all of them! How? Well, thanks to the unique construction of the cauldron. Remember those ‘petals’? Well each of those were attached to the end of a long stem and then each of them were ignited by the torches into a vast ‘flower’ of fire. Then the stems drew together forming the cauldron.
IT. WAS. AMAZING!
By far, my favourite part of the whole thing and, once again, thanks largely to the symbolism of the thing. Just as the rings drew together from ‘the four corners’ – the cauldron was carried in, piece by piece, by each nation right under our noses – and we never even realised. As before, the message being that, it is only with the participation of everyone that the games are possible in the first place – echoing a common thread throughout : “This is for Everyone!”
After this, Sir Paul McCartney – our Macca – rounded things off with a rendition of his fan favourite “Hey Jude” (so there you go northerners – you were included). Despite the fact that I’m not a massive fan of this song (all those na-na-na’s start to grate after a while) this was the right choice to put the final full-stop on the event. Its inclusive and everyone (else) likes it.
It does raise one question for me: Where were Muse? This is not just a random preponderance – they did write the official theme for the games – “Survival.” As a band that is consistently voted as one of the best live bands of all time, you would have thought their inclusion would have been a no-brainer. [Perhaps they are saving them for the closing ceremony.]
Let the Games Begin!
Like I said before, the opening ceremony is really only window-dressing and is always much more important to the host nation than it is to the others watching around the world (who are only really waiting to see their team take their place in the procession)
Having said that, I would struggle to call our take on the opening ceremony anything other than a complete success. Uniquely British, yet internationally accessible. Traditional and spectacular, yet risk-taking and humorous.
Something to be proud of for sure and a good measuring stick for the planners of the next one in Rio [three hours behind.]
Random Insults to Sanity 