All language subtitles for Rush 2013_Track05._PGS

...the drivers prepare for the track
is still dangerously wet,

but following a drivers' meeting,
a decision has finally been taken...

25 drivers start every season
in Formula One,

and each year two of us die.

What kind of person
does a job like this?

Not normal men, for sure.

Rebels, lunatics, dreamers.

People who are desperate
to make a mark

and are prepared to die trying.

My name is Niki Lauda, and racing
people know me for two things.

The first is my rivalry with him.

Mass is going on slicks.

You want to change?

- What about Hunt? Has he changed?
- No, he's going on wets.

I don't know why
it became such a big thing.

We were just drivers
busting each other's ****.

To me this is perfectly normal,
but other people saw it differently,

that whatever it was between us
went deeper.

Then we go on wets too.

The other thing I'm remembered for
is what happened on 1st Auoust 1976.

When I was chasing him like
an ****.

Yeah, that's the one.
On the second shelf. Thank you.

Trauma trolley, please.

I think the racetrack
telephoned ahead that I was coming.

Hunt. James Hunt.

What's the matter? No one ever seen
a spot of blood before?

- Are you all right?
- Absolutely fine.

We all thought you'd been
in an accident.

I have. If you call
a friendly disagreement

with another driver an accident.

- What did you disagree about?
- It's none of your business.

- Sorry.
- His wife.

That's going to need a couple
of stitches. It's a nasty cut.

It was a nasty blow.
Done with a bloody crowbar.

- Why? What did you do?
- Nothing.

Only what she asked me to do.

Which was...

I'd be happy to show you if you like.

Sorry.

I have a theory
why women like racing drivers.

It's not because they respect
what we do,

driving round and round in circles.

Mostly they think that's pathetic
and they're probably right.

It's our closeness to death.

You see, the closer you are to death,
the more alive you feel.

The more alive you are.
And they can see that in you.

They feel that in you.

My name is James Hunt.

My father is a stockbroker,
my sister is a barrister

and my brother is an accountant.

And I, well, I do this.

It's a wonderful way to live.
It's the only way to drive.

As if each day is your last.

I've never been
to a Grand Prix before.

You still haven't.

- This is Formula Three.
- What's that?

That's a lower division where idiots
like me mess about in the hope

of being talent-spotted to race
in Formula One.

- You look disappointed.
- No.

You only slept with me
because you thought I was famous.

That's not true!

Don't worry. I will be one day.

Morning, everyone.

- This is Nursie.
- Gemma.

Nursie, this is Bubbles Horsely,
team manager.

- How do you do?
- Bubbles?

Yeah.

- Doc Postlethwaite, our designer.
- How do you do?

And Alexander, Lord Hesketh,
the team's owner.

- How do you do?
- Fine, thanks.

Well done, Superstar.

- That's the car?
- Yep, that's her.

Lotus 59. 1000cc.
Cosworth MAE engine.

She's no beauty,
but goes like the clappers.

Nothing to be worried about.
Does it before every race.

Good sign, actually.
Means he's stoked.

...drivers please bring them
to the scrutineering bay now.

- All right, Superstar?
- Never better, patron.

- Have a gargle with this.
- Thank you.

Quick toke of this.

- Who's that?
- He's new.

- Some German.
- Austrian.

He's been here since 5 a.m.,
walking the track.

You might actually have to
concentrate today, James.

You'll need these.

Ok, start her up.

What music!
They could never have imagined it,

those pioneers
who invented the automobile,

that it would possess us like this,
in our imaginations, our dreams.

Nursie, men love women, but even
more than that, men love cars.

It's James! Go on, James!

Go, James!

Hunt's still in the lead,
but Niki Lauda is right on his tail.

Hunt and Lauda are proving
to be in a class of their own.

They're leaving the pack far behind.

Herr Red Devil's on his tail.

Lauda takes a look down the inside...

and he's sold him a dummy!

Lauda is through!
He's in the lead!

Hunt will be determined
to make up for that mistake.

Hunt's in Lauda's slipstream.
Lauda's not leaving any gap.

The Lotus goes for the inside.
It's an aggressive move from Hunt.

There's contact!

The leaders have spun out!
Lauda's facing the wrong way!

The back marker's gone through.

You can see why Hunt's fellow drivers
call him 'Hunt the Shunt.'

****!

- Go on, James!
- The Kraut's out of it.

Lauda is clearly furious.

There's every reason
to expect sharp words in the pit.

It's going to be victory for Hunt.

It's going to be
an ignominious defeat for Niki Lauda.

So James Hunt scores his third major

Formula Three win of the season
here at Crystal Palace,

after a desperate battle
with Niki Lauda.

Lauda was unable to restart
after Hunt's aggressive move

caused them both to spin out
in the last lap of the race.

Hard luck.
Better luck next time.

Hey, ****.

That was my line.
I had that corner.

You mean the one that you spun out of
and finished facing the other way?

I think that corner had you.

That move was total suicide.

What if I hadn't braked?
We'd have crashed.

But we didn't, did we? Thanks to
your impeccable survival instincts.

**** you.
What's your name?

James Simon Wallis Hunt.

Remember it, my little Jerry friend.

Jawohl.
Remember ze name.

It's very simple. Hunt.
It rhymes with cunt.

A word that happens
to describe you perfectly.

- Who was that?
- I've no idea.

He looks like a rat, doesn't he?

In my home town, Vienna,

my family is famous for one
thing business.

My grandfather was a businessman,
my father too.

So when they heard I wanted
to race cars for a living,

they had a few things to say.

Never!

Racing is for playboys
and dilettantes.

Frivolous amateurs
with nothing in their heads.

The name Lauda...

belongs with politicians
and economists,

on the front pages.

What if this is all I can do?

Then you need my money more
than ever,

so do as I say and follow me
into the family business.

Keep your money.

Don't invest in me.

But when I'm world champion

and my name is
on the front pages too...

you will regret it.

So if my family
wasn't going to help me,

I decided to risk everything
and take out a loan myself.

I found a Formula One team
with an ok car

and an owner who had run out of money
and was willing to accept my terms.

And so, ladies and gentlemen,

I'm delighted to say that the winner
of the Guild of Motoring

Writers Award Driver of the Year
is James Hunt.

- Well done, James.
- Superstar!

- Well done.
- Thank you.

My parents always wanted me
to be a doctor

or a stockbroker or something.

They gave me the first-class
education,

but, well, that all went terribly
wrong and I ended up with you lot.

Thank you.
I need it more than you do.

I mean, I have a hot head,
an inability to tolerate discipline.

- Yes!
- Very true.

I fall out with people left
and right.

The only creatures
I've ever really loved

or treated honourably
are budgerigars.

So in any normal area of life,
I'd be, or I am, a total liability.

The only thing I've got going for me
is I'm quick in a car.

So thank you for this
and for acknowledging that.

I'm going to give it to my father

and tell him to put it
on the mantelpiece

and imagine it's a first-class
degree in medicine.

Well done, Superstar.

Another season like that,
I'll move you up to the big time.

Come on, you don't think
I'm ready now?

You are. I'm not.
I've got to find you a car first.

Well, go on, then.
Chop chop.

Don't wait too long. You don't want
him to do what Lauda just did.

- Why? What did he do?
- Got himself a drive, with BRM.

- How the hell did he do that?
- He's a nobody.

He's never won a bloody thing.

Apparently took out a loan
and bought his way

in with two million Austrian
shillings.

Jesus“.

No. Stop. Wait I have to go,
I'll call you back.

Niki Lauda.
Here for pre-season testing. BRM?

Sign the release form.
I'll let them know you're here.

- Mr Stanley.
- Good morning.

Let me introduce you
to our number one driver.

Clay Regazzoni.

- How are you?
- Good.

Pleasure.

And these are your mechanics.

They're reporting exclusively to you,
as per contract.

Pleasure.
Do you wanna see the car?

Sure.

Hello.

There she is.
P160.

- Same as Regazzoni's?
- Identical in every detail.

- How much does she weigh?
- 600 kilos.

But that's crazy.
Why so heavy?

It's a V12 engine.
That lump weighs 190K on its own.

OK.

What horsepower are you getting?
490?

- No, no, 450.
- It's not enough.

It needs to be 500. The engine
needs to be 20 kilo lighter.

- We already tried.
- Tried what?

Everything. We replaced
the entire exhaust system.

- Barely made a difference.
- Are you using magnesium parts?

Now the engine block. Any mounting
or fixing plates, strip it out also.

When you've done that, we have
to look at the aerodynamics,

front and rear wing.

Ok, thank you.
Good night.

What was Regazzoni's time?

153.

Ok, now put him in my car and he'll
go round two seconds faster.

- Well, that's impossible.
- No chance.

We have been working on it all night.

Put Regazzoni in the car.
See what happens.

I don't understand.
Why am I supposed to do this?

I don't know, Clay. He just
wants you to take it for a spin.

Gloves, please.

- I'd say we push it a bit further.
- All right.

What did you do to the car?

That's information I will share with
you under certain conditions only.

Go on.

A guaranteed place in the team.

And a paid contract on equal terms
with Regazzoni for two years.

Are you crazy? Clay's a senior figure
in Formula One. You're just a rookie.

The only reason we took you on
is because you're paying us.

Well, as of now if you want me
to stay,

we rip up the contract,
I don't pay you a cent.

- That's outrageous!
- Was he quicker in my car?

He was, wasn't he?
Did he go two seconds faster?

2.3.

So, have a think,

work out your priorities
and get back to me.

Hey, Niki.

I know what you're going to say,
that it's none of my business.

What?

If it's the track manager
you're taking on your date tonight.

It's none of your business.

Ok, but if you want my advice,
I'd let this one go.

I'm not questioning your taste.
She is a great girl, but...

Agnes's last boyfriend
was a British Formula Two driver

who has a reputation for two things.

For being a little crazy on the track

and for going all night and all day
and all night again in bed.

He's a good driver
but an immortal **** apparently.

I don't know about you, but that's
not an act I'd like to follow.

But if that doesn't bother you...

What's his name, the driver?

Hunt.
James Hunt.

You see, you share information
and I share information.

That's what teammates are for.

- Where the hell are we going?
- I can promise it'll be worth it.

Just keep them closed.
Wait for it.

There. What do you say?

- She's Formula One.
- Yes, she is, Superstar.

Your brother and I got together
with the bean counters.

And since the economics of F1
are not so significantly different

to the economics of Formula Two,

well, we thought if we were
going to be losing money,

we might as well be doing it on the
big roulette table in Formula One.

You fat, little, inbred beauty.
Come here.

Actually, credit where it's due,
we got the idea from Niki.

- Who?
- Lauda.

Bought his way in rather than
mess about in the lower divisions.

I thought, bloody hell, he's right.

No sponsorship, Superstar.
I hope you approve.

No vulgar logos
for cigarettes or condoms.

Just plain white with the flags.

And racing overalls which read
"Sex. Breakfast of champions"

- So when do we start?
- Soon as you're ready.

Ready? I've been waiting
for this my whole life.

When the season started,
people wondered

whether Lord Hesketh and his team
of upper-class enthusiasts

were bringing glamour to the racing
community or just comedy.

Certainly it was the first time
anyone had seen a butler

serving oysters and caviar
in the pits.

But they have made quite an impact.

Sixth in France, fourth in Britain
and third in Holland.

All drivers on the track,
caution flags are out.

A severe crash at the Esses.

And reports are reaching me
that there has been

a serious accident in qualifying.

The identity of the driver we don't
currently have at the moment,

but as you can tell from all the
activity going on behind me

towards the track, it is clearly
a grave incident indeed.

We will, of course,
have more information for you

as and when we get it,
but it is the sight and sound

of Formula One nobody likes to see.

- Get your hands off me.
- Hey, come on.

Drivers of top stature we've lost
just in the past four seasons

have included Piers Courage,
Jochen Rindt,

Jo Siffert, Roger Williamson

and today, at Watkins Glen, Formula
One has claimed another driver.

The Tyrrell team
have withdrawn from the race.

- Terrible.
- They should cancel the race.

Why?

He made a mistake, went into
the corner too fast. It's his fault.

- Is that right?
- It's obvious.

Look at the tyre marks.

So says the nobody
who had to pay for his own drive.

How's that working out for you,
by the way?

Fine.
How is it at the back?

Not planning on being there for long.

****.

Arsehole.

Heading into the Grand Hotel hairpin,
second gear.

Turn in hard,
looking for late apex,

gentle with the bar.

Heading into Portier, second gear,
clip the apex,

light brake, stay in second,
looking for a good exit.

Heading through the tunnel,
gradual right,

up through third, fourth, fifth...

ls Alexander around?

Yes, he was. He went back
to the house to take a call.

He'll be back shortly.

He only wanted to show me
his pride and joy.

Rhymes with 'b0y' if you ask me.
And 't0y'.

God, it's so flimsy.
For something that costs so much.

There's no comfort,
no protection, nothing.

No, it's just a little coffin,
really.

Surrounded by
high-octane fuel in here.

Being driven round 170 miles
per hour.

To all intents and purposes,
this thing's a bomb on wheels.

You're James, aren't you?

Yes.

You fit the description.

Is that right?

- Suzy. Friend of Alex's.
- Yeah, yeah. I know exactly.

What was the description?

Mostly positive in terms
of appearance.

Negative only in terms of character.
I've been told to avoid you.

By Whom?

Alexander.
He says you're a bad boy.

Alexander doesn't know
what he's talking about.

I was. I'm not any more.
The new me is very professional.

Early to bed, early to rise.

All very dull,
but according to the team,

'the best way to keep
beating the goose stepper.'

Is that what you were doing
when I came in?

Yes, visualisation techniques,
memorising the circuit,

in this case Monaco,
which is up next.

Personally I've always been a great
believer in getting there on the day,

putting my foot down and
playing chicken with everyone else.

But they don't want me
doing that any more.

They want my body like a temple
and my mind like a monk.

And what about your soul,
your heart?

They've got ideas about that too.

They want me to stop messing around,
settle down,

get married
with the next nice girl I meet.

- They think it would be good for me.
- What do you think?

It sounds ****ing awful.

But since they're right
about most things,

they're probably right about
that too.

You don't fancy getting married,
do you?

- What's going on with him?
- Nothing. Nothing.

Didn't want to ruin your day.
It's... it's the Kraut.

What about him?
He's just been signed by Ferrari.

You're kidding me?
Jesus. How did that happen?

Did he buy his way in there too?

Well, the old man
took Regazzoni back

and he insisted on it apparently.

He says that Niki's a genius
setting up the cars.

It's terrible.
Drives like a pig.

- You can't say that.
- Why not?

- It's a Ferrari.
- It's a shitbox.

It understeers like crazy and the
weight distribution is a disaster.

It's amazing, all these facilities

and you make a piece of crap
like this.

We are happy to welcome back
to the Ferrari family

our good friend Clay Regazzoni,

and to introduce Niki Lauda,

from Austria.

Ferrari family,
our good friend Clay Regazzoni.

You are family and friend to the
commend a tore as long as you win.

- The minute you don't, ciao, ciao.
- I totally understand.

It's business.
I would do the same.

But it isn't just business, is it?
What we do. It's passion, love.

Which is why we are prepared
to risk our lives for it.

Not me.

If I had more talent and could earn

better money with something else,
I would.

How do you know you will
make money here? You haven't yet.

Not yet, but I will.

If you can, I can.

You know,
are you ever not an ****?

- Why am I an ****?
- Well...

You know by now I'm both quicker
than you

and better at setting up the car.

You can't deal with it,
so you're the ****.

Screw you.

I brought you along today because
you seem like a lonely kind of guy.

I thought if I introduced you
to some nice people,

that could rub off on you.

Forget it.
Make your own friends.

Come on, Clay.
I'm sorry.

- Are you leaving?
- Yes.

Can you give me a lift to the nearest
town, anywhere with a train station?

Sure.
Trento's half an hour's drive.

Get in.

What are you doing?

You hear that noise
when you accelerate?

- No.
- Your fan belt is loose.

My What?

And when you brake,
your foot goes all the way down,

which means there's air
in the system.

- Anything else?
- No.

Apart from
the rear brakes are worn out,

the front right tyre's a bit soft,

which explains
why you're weaving so much.

How can you tell?

- My ass.
- Sorry?

God gave me an ok mind,

but a really good ass
which can feel everything in a car.

You don't know what you're talking
about. This car is fine.

- I just had a service a week ago.
- Not a good one.

Yes, a very good one,
very expensive.

This car is as good as new.
Relax.

- You're not in a hurry, are you?
- No.

As long as I'm back in Maranello
Monday morning.

We can speak German.
You're from Vienna, aren't you?

- Marlene.
- Niki.

How do you know Curd?

Who's Curd?

Curd Jurgens the host.

He is, on was, my boyfriend.

There is something very
attractive about an older man.

But when they behave like
a frightened child...

I must have been mad.

Let me do this.

Otherwise we'll never get out
of here. We're in Italy, after all.

Not bad, eh? Three seconds.
Admit it, you're impressed!

Do you need a lift?

- Actually, we do, yeah.
- It's my honour, Niki, please.

- Thank you.
- My car is your car.

On one condition, though.
It's a piece of shit. It's dog shit.

But if you drive it,
you make my life, Niki, eh?

No one will believe
Niki Lauda is driving my car.

Will someone please tell me
what's going on?

Who are you?
Should I know you?

What, you don't know?

He's Niki Lauda, Formula One driver,
and he just signed with Ferrari.

- Him?
- Yes.

- Impossible.
- Why?

Well, you know, Formula One drivers,
they have long hair, are sexy,

their shirts are open to here.

- Thank you.
- Yes.

Anyway, look at the way he's
driving, like an old man.

There's no need to drive fast.

It just increases the percentage
of risk.

We're not in a hurry.
I'm not being paid.

Right now,
with zero incentive or reward,

why would I drive fast?

Because I'm asking you to.

And do you always get what you want?

Usually.

This is an incredible battle

between Niki Lauda in the red Ferrari
and James Hunt in the white Hesketh.

Lauda attacking Hunt.
Lauda gets through on the inside.

Goes wide at the exit.
Hunt is past again.

Once more,
Lauda tries to sneak up the inside.

They're absolutely side by side,
wheel to wheel.

So evenly matched. Fantastic battle
between these two great drivers.

Hunt is now ahead once more.

But Lauda's coming back again now.
Lauda once more sneaks up the inside.

And again he runs wide.
Again the Hesketh...

- Suzy, we're ready, come on.
- Just... Just one second.

- Can we go, yeah?
— Okay.

We're in the closing laps of this
race here at Watkins Glen.

They come down the hill.

And Hunt's got a problem!

Hunt pulls across to the left.
Lauda goes ahead on his own.

A sad end to a wonderful battle.
Hunt pushing off the marshal.

The chequered flag
is waiting for Lauda and for Ferrari.

The title going to Niki Lauda,
who wins the race,

who wins the World Championship.

Do I look like a racing driver now?

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

Marlene.

With a car like that, the rest of us
never really stood a chance, did we?

Maybe the fact the car is so good
has something to do with me.

Come on, Niki. You're in a Ferrari.
I'm in a Hesketh.

Equal terms, the way it was
in Formula Three,

- I'd beat you and you know it.
- Never.

You might win one race, maybe two,
because you're aggressive.

But in the long run, over the course
of a season, no chance.

Right. Why's that?

Because to be a champion,
it takes more than just being quick.

It's the whole picture.

You're just a charger
and a party guy.

That's why everybody likes you.

Try saying that
and tell me you're not jealous.

Why would I be jealous?
Think about it.

All that affection, all those smiles
is a sign of disrespect.

They don't fear you.
Whereas compare that to me.

Yes, compared to you,
whom no one likes.

- Right.
- Not even his own team mates.

Right. Because I'm a serious guy.
I go to bed early,

I look after myself,
look after my car.

- Yes, you're very well-behaved.
- Go to work, kick ass.

And then after the race
I go home instead of going to bars

and talk all this bullshit
with all these ****s.

Arseholes?

You should go home more often too.

I heard you got married.

Yes, I did.

So where is she,
this mysterious wife?

In New York, working.

You know, I've never seen you
with her once.

No?

Well, maybe that's because
you're always at home,

on your own, looking after yourself,
being a good little boy.

Take a drink on me, James.

Thank you, Niki.
I might just have two.

Right, Bubbles, whatever it takes
to beat that prick next year,

just say it,
your word is my command.

There are no lengths to which
I will not go. And I mean it.

What the hell's going on?

Where is everybody?
What's the matter?

Do you know what the date is today?

Yes, it's November, the 14th.
Why?

Do you have any idea
of the significance of that date?

I don't know.
Time to start killing pheasants?

Actually, it's the deadline
for securing sponsorship

for the forthcoming
Formula One season.

Yes?

Which elapsed at midnight last night
and we didn't attract any.

Well, so?
We aren't looking for sponsorship.

Like you said, condoms
and cigarettes, vulgar, right?

Right.

Except we are, or were.

I've made something
of a miscalculation.

The economics, Formula One,
realities thereof.

It turns out not like
the lower divisions at all.

What are you saying?

I'm saying it's over, Superstar.

The banks have stepped in,
started laying everyone off.

Probably have to sell this place.

Oh, Christ.

I need a drive, Pete.
I need you to find me a drive.

- I mean, what about Lotus?
- You don't wanna know.

- Actually, I do.
- Ok.

They felt your reputation
preceded you.

And what does that mean?

It's my other line.
Look, I'll get back to you.

Peter Hunt.

****.

Don't worry.
Something will turn up.

Doubt that will help in the meantime.

Why don't we go away
at the weekend?

Skiing.
Before I go back to New York.

Talk to me, James.
Don't make a stranger of me.

You know, Suzy, only a stranger
would invite me skiing

when they know
I haven't got a **** drive.

- I can't watch this.
- What were you hoping for anyway?

A well-adjusted knight
in shining arm our?

- No danger of that.
- Let me give you some advice.

I'm all ears.

Don't go to men who are willing
to kill themselves

driving in circles
looking for normality.

I never expected normality.

God knows I walked into this with
my eyes open.

I just hoped I'd married someone
who was half as impressive

on the inside
as he is on the outside.

At least there's something
behind the facade.

**** off to New York, dear.

There must be a moisturiser
or an eye shadow somewhere

that needs your vapid mush
to flog it.

- Hello?
- Hi, James. It's Peter.

Something's up at McLaren.
What have you heard?

- Nothing. Why?
- I heard Emerson's off.

- He's dumped them in it.
- Jesus. Get me in there, Pete.

Say anything,
just get me in that room.

I'll come straight to the point.

- Our esteemed lead driver...
- Fitti-****-paldi.

...has ditched us for another team
at the last minute.

- Coper-****-sucar.
- And we need a replacement.

ASA-****-P.

Fortunately a few hands
have already gone up, good people.

- Jacky lckx.
- I'm quicker than Jacky.

- But he's consistent, dependable.
- A grown-up.

Right, and will he go for that gap
when no one else will?

Will be put his life on the line
the day it really matters?

The sponsors like him.

What do you want,
a driver or a brush salesman?

- We wanna be successful.
- Yes, so do I.

But that means beating Niki Lauda,
not being a show pony for sponsors.

- I heard about this thing with Niki.
- Everyone has.

- You really think you can beat him?
- I'd beat him in a McLaren.

It's the only car out there
as quick as the Ferrari.

Which is why I'm here, begging.
Look, I'll do whatever you ask.

I'll put on a tie, I'll smile
for sponsors, say the right things.

I can beat this guy, trust me.

Just give me the drive.

Yeah, he can be a loose cannon.
And, yeah, he will drive you all mad,

but in terms of raw talent
and right stuff,

there is no better driver
in the world.

He's the real thing, Teddy.
He's what we all came into this for.

Nine days out often
you'll be pulling your hair out,

but on that tenth day
James will be unbeatable.

That is the day you will wish
you had him in your car.

You will never win the championship
with Jacky lckx.

You just might with James.

Welcome to Séo Paulo, Brazil,
and the lnterlagos circuit

for the first race
in the 1976 Formula One season,

where the main news is that James
Hunt has qualified fastest,

beating Niki Lauda's Ferrari to pole
position by just 200th of a second.

- New car.
- I noticed.

- Pole position.
- I noticed that too.

Level playing field now,
my ratty little friend.

Yeah. Let's see where
we are after lap one.

Let's see where we are
in five races time.

Hunt has the pit lane pole position,

which should give him the best chance
of out dragging Lauda's Ferrari.

If ever there was a doubt about
whether Lauda

had a serious challenger
to this season,

Hunt and his McLaren
have certainly given us the answer.

Here in South Africa, James Hunt
is determined to make

amends after that disastrous
retirement in Brazil.

But it's Lauda who takes the flag
here at Kyalami.

James Hunt comes home second

to confirm his championship
challenge at last

and score his first points
of the season.

That wind you can feel
is me breathing down your neck.

Next time I'll have you.

We'll see in Spain.

James Hunt finally takes his first
victory of the season here in Spain,

after a brilliant drive.

It was only a matter of time.

- It's too wide.
- Disqualified.

- What?
- You're disqualified.

- How can we be disqualified?
- 1.5cm.

...McLaren M23 has proved
very controversial here.

Just make it narrower.
I don't care how.

New rear suspension.
New wishbones.

I wanna make sure this thing
is legal, no doubts.

Then we'd better move the oil
coolers back to the old position.

****.

And with Hunt disqualified
from his Spain win,

his championship year
is not going well.

And now it's all gone wrong
here at Monaco!

His engine is smoking.

Smoke pouring
from the engine of that McLaren.

And James Hunt is out.

Can you tell us what happened?

Sure. It's magic, we've taken a great
car, a great piece of engineering

and overnight turned it into
a big, huge stinking turd.

Shit!

- What the hell have you done?
- The car's evil.

It's **** undriveable!

If there's a problem with the car,
we'll find it and fix it.

The car is a piece of shit.
You should be appealing this.

They're killing us out there.

- Go and get your **** wet.
- You're a wanker.

- **** you.
- You're a **** wanker.

But this was a good race for you,
no, Niki?

It's good for everyone

that the quickest car happens
to be a legal car.

James, you're 50 points
behind Lauda in the championship.

You've had another retirement today.
What's going wrong?

It's dirty politics and dirty tricks,
that's what's going wrong.

So as we approach the halfway point
in this year's Formula One season,

Ferrari and Niki Lauda
seem clearly on top

and James Hunt and McLaren
are struggling.

So, five races in,
how's it going so far?

It's fine. Just got a little problem
with an Austrian rat

and his team of Italian cheats
who have destroyed my car.

-What are you talking about?
-About the race in Spain that I won.

- Yeah, in a car which is not legal.
- Five eighths of an inch too wide.

You know that doesn't have the
slightest effect on speed.

But you complained and your team of
lawyers leaned on the authorities.

Now we've had to rebuild the car
and it's become a monster.

- At least it's a legal monster.
- You've had to resort to cheating.

You're driving an illegal car
and call me the cheat? It's pathetic.

- Rules are rules.
- Yes, and rats are rats.

Thank you. Thank you.

Do you really think it upsets me,
James,

calling me a rat
because I look like one?

I don't mind it.
Rats are ugly, sure,

and nobody likes them,
but they're very intelligent

and they have
a strong survival instinct.

Wonderful.

Leave this jerk alone.

No wonder she left him.

Anyone seen Suzy?

She's supposed to be here today.

We didn't wanna tell you
before the race.

Tell me what?

Jesus.

- Is that from him?
- Yeah.

So when did all this start?

That weekend I went skiing.

Why have you come here, James?
I've come to get you back.

You don't want me back.

You never wanted to be married
in the first place.

- Yes, I did.
- Oh, come on, James.

You did it because
you hoped it might change you,

settle you down,
help with the racing.

No, I didn't.

And who knows, if it had been
just the drinking

or the dope or the infidelity
or the moods,

it might even have worked.

- But when it's all of them...
- Yes, I know, I'm terrible.

No, you're not terrible.

You're just who you are
at this point in your life.

God help anyone who wants more.

And Richard Burton,
will he able to give you more?

You know, he has quite the bad boy
reputation himself.

What's important is how it feels
to me,

and it feels like he adores me.

Are you and Suzy
getting back together?

It's all very amicable.

My wife has found herself
a new backer...

I mean lover,
which makes her happy.

And Mr Burton has found a way
of feeling young again,

which makes him happy.
Let's hope his pockets are deep.

They'll need to be.

And I've found a way to be single

and have an ex-wife
without it costing me a penny,

which has got to go down
as the biggest win of my career!

I have a flight to catch.

We haven't seen this sort
of intensity

from James Hunt all season long.

Reports have been coming out
of the McLaren camp all week

that their car is now fully legal
and faster than ever.

Never mind the bloody wets.
We're still quick.

Hunt has really closed the gap
on Lauda as they head into Druids.

Niki Lauda is under real pressure
from James Hunt

as they go up the hill
into Druids Corner.

And Hunt is in front of Lauda!

So James Hunt
gets the plaudits of the crowd,

the first Briton to win
a British Grand Prix at Brands Hatch

since Jim Clark in 1964.

At the moment you've got a terrific
edge over the rest of the field.

How have you achieved this advantage?

Big ****.

Following an inquiry
into the disqualification

of driver James Hunt
from the Spanish Grand Prix,

it has been decided
to overturn this disqualification

and to restore his victory
and reinstate his points.

A few weeks ago you were out of the
running for the season completely

and now you're right back in it.
What's changed?

It's a combination of factors,

not all of which
I'm prepared to discuss here.

But justice being done re the
disqualification in Spain, helps

and having my car
back at its best again.

In theory it's possible for James
Hunt to catch you. Are you worried?

Not at all.

For him to catch me, he would have
to win a lot of races...

and pigs would have to fly.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have
a family matter to attend to.

I should warn you,
I'm not going to be any good at this.

"Bringing flowers"
and "holding hands".

I'll probably forget your birthday.

But if I'm going to do
this with anyone,

it might as well be you.

My God, a poet!

What's the matter?

Happiness is the enemy.

It weakens you.

Puts doubt in your mind.

Suddenly, you have something
to lose.

When you call happiness an enemy.

Then it's too late.

Then you've already lost.

Welcome to the legendary NiJrburgring.

This is a 14.2 mile track,

complete with 185 corners and bends.

...an autograph?

With the date, please.

The date? Why?

You never know.
Could be your last.

Welcome to the NiJrburgring,
the most dangerous circuit

on the season calendar.

In Formula One it is known
as the Graveyard.

The weather conditions are far from
ideal and latest reports indicate

there is no relief in sight.

Gentlemen.
Well, gentlemen, please be quiet.

Thank you. Niki Lauda.

Thank you.

I called this meeting because,
as all you drivers know,

the Nilrburgring is the most stupid,
barbaric, outdated

and dangerous track in the world.
You've all seen the rain

that has been falling today.
Those of you with experience know

the ring needs perfect conditions

to be even remotely acceptable
in terms of risk.

And today, with the rain,
it's anything but perfect,

so I called this meeting
to take a vote to cancel the race.

There would be
no change to the situation

as far as points is concerned.

- The race would simply be cancelled.
- This is bullshit.

If the race is cancelled,
none of us get our race fees.

That's true,
you leave without your fee,

but you might leave with your life.

It also means that you would
effectively win the championship.

So I can see
why this suits you just fine.

Why? There would be
no points for me either.

No, but there would be one race
less where I,

or anyone else here,
could catch you.

James is right.
This is just tactics.

Maybe he's just frightened.

Which **** said this?

Yes, of course I'm frightened,
and so are you.

I accept every time I get in my car
there is 20% chance I could die,

and I can live with it,
but not one per cent more.

And today, with the rain,
the risk is more.

I suppose that all depends
on how good you are in the rain.

I have the track record here.

I am the only person in history to
do the ring in under seven minutes,

so actually it's to my advantage
to race here today.

Because I'm quicker than all of you.

Fine.
Then let's race.

- Gentlemen, please.
- Why are we here, Niki? Come on.

Well, all those in favour
of cancelling the race.

All those in favour of racing.

Gentlemen, the race is on.

You know, Niki, every now and then
it helps if people like you.

In places the track
is still dangerously wet,

but following a drivers' meeting,
a decision has finally been taken...

The Grand Prix will go ahead.

One minute to go.

Jochen's going on slicks.
You wanna change?

- Is Niki gonna change?
- No.

Then we stay on wets too.

- Niki, ok?
- I'm good.

All right, fire her up.

This season's fight for the Formula
One World Championship

has so far been the story of two men.

Thus far it's been going
pretty much the way of Niki Lauda.

But James Hunt
has qualified fastest here.

He is on pole position
for the German Grand Prix

with Niki Lauda alongside
in the blood-red Ferrari.

It's a long race.
If the track starts to dry out,

the wet-weather tyres
will no longer be as quick.

Niki Lauda and James Hunt,
side by side

on the front row of the grid,
go away absolutely as one.

Lauda very aggressive on Hunt there,
forcing the McLaren onto the grass.

Lauda has the lead at the moment.
Lauda leads into the first corner.

Hunt is in second place.

Mass storming past Hunt!

He made the right choice
to go with the dry-weather tyres.

Mass passing Lauda now!

Jochen Mass, in the number 2 McLaren,
takes the lead!

Jochen Mass the clear leader,

with everybody else
making the decision

to change tyres
after just one lap of this race.

He's coming in! Come on, let's go!

See? I told you to go on slicks.
You should have taken my advice.

**** off. Where's Niki?

Behind you.
He made the same mistake.

Come on!

Come on!
What's going on?

The tyre-changing frenzy has caused
a huge reshuffling of the pack...

Lauda urging his mechanics to hurry.

It's a disaster! Come on!

What's going on, you ****s?

This race has gone wrong
for him so far.

His championship rival, James Hunt,
is a long way up the road.

Lauda passing car after car.

He's just going past Mario Andretti's
Lotus there.

Niki!

Get me out! Help me!

Several cars are involved.

Looks like it might be one
of the Ferraris.

- Come this way.
- Come on, come on!

Come this way.

It's not the burns to his face
that are the danger.

It's the burns to his lungs.

In the intensive care unit,
six doctors

and thirty-four nurses
are on duty for him.

But his condition is far worse
than originally feared.

The flood, which swept down Big
Thompson Canyon in Colorado,

was the worst since records began.

In Formula One today, victory
celebrations were muted

after a horrific accident involving
world champion Niki Lauda.

Due to safety concerns before
the race,

the Austrian had said
he would not take part,

but in the end he did.

He was making up for lost time
when he went off the track,

puncturing the Ferrari's fuel tank.

Brett Lunger was unable to avoid
the flaming wreck

but was unhurt and joined with
the other drivers to rescue Lauda,

who was taken to Manheim Hospital
with severe burns,

the incident reminding us again
of the dangers of Formula One.

Niki Lauda was trapped
for almost a minute

in a searing inferno
of 800-plus degrees.

He's awake and just spoke.

He said, "Tell the priest
to **** off! I'm still alive!"

You can go in.

James Hunt gains on the absent
Niki Lauda.

We need to vacuum the lungs.

I should warn you.
It won't be easy.

Do it again.

Are you sure?
The lungs will already be bruised.

Please, stop.

I know what you're thinking,
but please...

if you love me,
you won't say a word.

- Morning, chaps.
- Hey, here's the man.

- What's going on?
- Jesus. It's Niki.

- What about him?
- He's here.

- What?
- He's racing.

It's that bad, huh?

No.

In hospital I asked them straight,
no bullshit,

how bad my appearance would be.

They said with time it would be fine.
But it won't.

I can tell, seeing your reaction.

I will spend the rest of my life
with a face that frightens people.

You know, Niki, I tried to write you
a letter at the time, to apologise.

The drivers' meeting in Germany,
before the race.

- I swayed the room.
- Yes, you did.

That race
should never have gone ahead.

No, it shouldn't.

So in many ways I feel responsible
for what happened and...

You were.

But, trust me,
watching you win those races

while I was fighting for my life...

you were equally responsible
for getting me back in the car.

- How are you feeling, Niki?
- Fine.

Niki, can you confirm to us
exactly which procedures you've had

- and the expectations for your
recovery. - Sure.

I had a skin graft operation

where they put half my right thigh
in my face.

Now, it doesn't look too good,

but one unexpected advantage is

it's impossible to perspire
through a skin graft,

so sweat will never run into my eyes
again, which is good for a driver.

When they heard about your condition,
Ferrari immediately

hired a replacement driver,
Carlos Reutemann.

Yeah, before even reaching
the hospital.

-Is Reutemann driving today too?
-Yes and keen to make an impression.

So let's see where Mr Reutemann
finishes and where I finish today.

James Hunt and McLaren have
caught up a lot while you were away.

Yes.

So is there a question now or are
you just trying to piss me off?

- You still think you can win?
- Yes, of course.

I have the better car.

And possibly I'm the better driver.

But he's a clever guy
and he's used his time well

while I was lying half-dead
in hospital to win some points.

And what did your wife say
when she saw your face?

She said, “Sweetie,
you don't need a face to drive.”

“You just need a right foot.”

I'm being serious.

Do you really think your marriage

can survive
with the way you look now?

And I'm being serious too.

**** you.
Press conference over.

You know how to get noticed Clive,
I'll tell you that.

I thought it went well, to be honest.

They don't like it when it's not
going their way. That's the game.

- See you.
- See you later.

- James, are you all right?
- Good, yeah.

I think I've got something for you
on that last question, about Niki.

You heard about that?
Did you see...

Please, James...

Now go home to your wife
and ask her how you look.

Prick.

So Niki Lauda, just 42 days

after his near-fatal accident
at Nillrburgring,

will race here today at Monza
against all medical advice

and no doubt in incredible pain.

Niki, it's time.
Ok?

Please clear the grid.

One minute to go.

That's a bad start for Lauda,
he's slow away.

The returning Niki Lauda
seems overwhelmed.

He's being overtaken
by car after car.

A terrible start for the Austrian.

It's perhaps too soon
for him to be racing again.

Lauda's off line.
He runs wide onto the grass.

He wrestles it back onto the track,
but that was a bad moment for Niki.

Niki Lauda's
the reigning world champion,

but maybe in his current state
he's a danger out there,

to himself
and to the rest of the field.

And Stuck has collided
with Mario Andretti's Lotus!

Niki's boxed in.
He's got nowhere to go.

Niki Lauda is actually making a move.
He's on Brambi||a's tail.

He pulls out of the slipstream
to overtake.

Lauda's starting to find the form

that early in this race
we believed he'd lost.

Lauda's now lapping faster than
Reutemann and closing the gap ahead.

Lauda closing on Carlos Reutemann,

the man called in to be his
replacement in the Ferrari team.

And there's James Hunt's McLaren,

smoking stationary
by the side of the road.

This is bad news for Hunt's
championship hopes.

It's Ronnie Peterson who comes home
the winner here at Monza.

But all eyes are on the man
who finishes a brilliant fourth!

Niki Lauda!

What a race, what a man,
what a season.

With a fourth-place finish
and three priceless points,

Niki Lauda is a major step closer
to retaining the World Championship.

So the long, gruelling
and incredibly dramatic season

comes down to this final race
in Japan

in the shadow of Mount Fuji.

Niki Lauda goes into
this deciding race at Fuji

just three points ahead
of James Hunt,

Hunt knowing he must beat
the Austrian fair and square

to take the title.

James, do you think
you can cope with the pressure?

Well, I've never really understood
what that means. I love my job.

I love competing.
I love racing.

Maybe you should ask Niki.
He's the World Champion.

He's got everything to lose.

-Mr Lauda, are you feeling pressure?
-Do I like look I'm feeling pressure?

I am World Champion and on the verge
to become World Champion again.

Hunt now has the opportunity to win,

but it's not so easy
to become a champion.

You have to really believe it
to make it possible.

James, is there anything
you'd like to add?

If Niki is being tricky and getting
a kicky out of playing mind games,

then fine, I'm flattered.
But the fact is momentum is with me.

I've never felt better.

And I fully expect the next
press conference we will have

will be with me as World Champion.

Intermittent heavy rain
has been forecast

here at Fuji today, along with
strong winds and occasional fog

rolling in from the mountain.

And so with today's
Japanese Grand Prix to come,

Lauda's lead a mere three points.
What a way to finish the season.

Hunt or Lauda?

The final chapter will unfold when
we bring you extended coverage...

- They've got to cancel the race.
- It's lethal out there.

The race is going ahead.

Television rights have been sold
all around the world.

The showdown between you and Niki
is all anyone wants to see.

With heavy rain continuing to fall
here at Fuji,

a decision has finally been made.

The 1976 Japanese Grand Prix
will go ahead.

All drivers to your cars, please.

Five minutes to go.

- All right?
- All right.

- Hold still.
- What the hell are you doing?

- To let the condensation out.
- It'll also let the water in.

Not if you're leading.

Trust me,
this race is all about the start.

- Need a hand here?
- Yeah, hold it, Teddy.

Ok, start the bastard.

Good luck, kid.

Good luck, James.

Electric tension here at Fuji.

80,000 bedraggled race fans

and the racing grudge match
of the decade.

And there's Mario Andretti
in pole position,

James Hunt alongside him.

On row two of the grid,
there is Niki Lauda,

and on row three of the grid,
Jody Scheckter from South Africa

in the six-wheel Tyrrell.

Behind him, the rest
of the 25-car field.

There's the flag and finally
the Japanese Grand Prix is underway!

In these conditions
it must be almost impossible to drive

a 450-horsepower car.

And it's Andretti who has the lead,
but Hunt is attacking.

Hunt's going round
the outside of Andretti.

Niki Lauda following him through.

Hunt leads into the first
flghbhanden

Hunt comes through to complete
his first lap, leading the field.

At least he has clear vision
in front of him.

Niki Lauda, behind him,
eating his spray.

Lauda is slowing.
Niki Lauda is bringing

the Ferrari number one into the pit.

Some sort of problem, we can't
imagine what, so early in the race.

What's wrong with the car?
What's wrong with the car?

- Niki, what's wrong with the car?
- Nothing. Car's perfect.

- What are you doing?
- I'm stopping.

His mechanics are asking
what the problem is. But wait!

Niki Lauda's getting out of the car!
This is sensational!

The reigning World Champion,
Niki Lauda, is out of this race.

It's too dangerous.

Niki, you want me to say there was a
problem with the car, for the media?

No. Tell them the truth.

Now, what is happening?
They're talking to the team manager.

Lauda explaining something.

With Lauda out, James Hunt knows
he has to finish this race

in third place or higher
to be World Champion.

But the job's not done yet
for James Hunt.

In these dreadful conditions,
he still has to go the distance.

15 laps to go here at Fuji.
James Hunt or Niki Lauda?

This extraordinary season
is not over yet.

In this treacherous final round,
can James Hunt hang on?

And the scoreboard tells a story.
Lap 58. Hunt in the lead.

Oh, God, his tyres,
they're blistering.

Brambilla very close behind now,
closing on him all the time now.

And he's trying to drive
inside James Hunt.

Hunt cuts across
the orange March nose.

Hunt's not having that at all.
And he's spinning.

He missed Hunt but almost took
James Hunt out of the race

and out of the world championship.

Now we find Mario Andretti
closing on James Hunt.

Mario Andretti's going past Hunt!
Hunt is slowing.

James Hunt seems
to have a problem.

Despite these wet conditions,

these wet-weather tyres
wear extremely fast.

Hunt's tyres, they've gone.

Hunt nursing his car
back to the pit stop.

That back marker's going past Hunt.

Look at that left front tyre,
right front tyre, sorry.

No tread on it at all.
And the other one is flat.

Let's go! Let's go!

Ok? When did you break
your gear lever?

Nine or ten laps ago.

- Alistair, we need to lift it!
- Come on!

- At the front.
- Let's go.

Regazzoni's Ferrari
and Jacques Lafitte

in the Ligier have gone ahead.

Come on, hurry!

- You did it. You're going to be
World Champion! - Not yet.

A few laps ago, James Hunt
was looking like champion elect.

Now it looks as though
it's all gone wrong for him.

- James.
- Come on!

- Listen.
- What?

- Just go easy out there.
- What are you saying?

I'm saying look after yourself.

We want you back in one piece.
You're too far back.

There's too many drivers in front
of you. There's always next year.

So that's it? It's over?

Clear!

- Clear!
- **** it!

James Hunt rejoins the race
in sixth position.

There are four laps left to go.
Surely no way back for the Brit now.

Concentrate, Superstar.

Just brings it back under control.

Sliding the McLaren
on the very edge there.

Hunt's M23 twitching this way
and that under braking.

And he almost loses it right there.

Hunt on the tail of Jacques Lafitte
in the blue Ligier.

Don't do it, James.

He's inches away from the pit wall.
He's inches away from the Ligier.

James Hunt has made up another place,
but it's not enough

and this race is running out.

And Watson has spun.
Watson has spun!

Hunt manages to weave his way
between that back marker

and the stationary Penske.

He's catching Regazzoni,
but in these conditions,

it's one thing to catch up,
it's quite another to overtake.

He's alongside Clay Regazzoni.
This could be the world championship.

He's got him!

The scoreboard still
shows Hunt in 5th place.

Hunt crosses the line.

He needed to finish third to score
enough points to be World Champion,

and in the confusion here we're being
told that he may have finished fifth.

He finished fifth?

Our lap charts show Hunt
in third place.

Well, if the scoreboard's right,

it means he's just missed out
on the championship.

Crushing defeat for Hunt
after such a heroic drive.

I can see the race stewards
conferring,

examining the official lap charts.

We're just going to have to wait
for their verdict here.

- Let's get you out of there, buddy.
- I'm sorry.

I thought I could make up the ground.

- What are you talking about?
You did it. - Did what?

Jesus. You crazy bastard!
You came third. You got the points.

You're champion of the world!

James Hunt is now officially
confirmed

as finishing third here in Japan,

and that means
he is champion of the world.

Our new World Champion,
James Hunt, by just one single point.

World bloody Champion!

- What are you going to do now?
- I shall be getting drunk.

It's wonderful, absolute dream.

Are you okay?

Fine.

No regrets.

Not one.

And our special guest,
Formula One champion James Hunt.

Wait. Come on.

There's no better motor oil
than Havoline.

- Yes, me too. Where are we going?
- Anywhere I want to go.

And I don't have to hijack it,
either. As long as I pay for it.

I'm starving. Let's get some food.

Niki.

Good to see you.

I heard you were spending
more and more time in one of these.

- Do you fly?
- No.

I don't think they'd insure me.
You should try.

It's good for discipline.
You have to stay within the rules,

stick to regulations,
suppress the ego.

- It helps with the racing.
- And there I was thinking

you were about to wax lyrical
about the romance of flight.

No, that's all bullshit.

- So what brings you here?
- A friend's wedding.

At least I think it was a wedding.

Might have been a birthday or
something. It's all a bit of a blur.

- How about you? Have you been at
Fiorano? - Pre-season testing.

- You're relentless.
- Thank you.

I'm not sure that was meant
as a compliment.

When do you start testing?
Next week?

No. What, are you nuts?

I didn't just win
the biggest thing of my life

- so I could get right back to work.
- Why? You have to.

To prove to all the people who will
always say you just won it because...

Because of what?
Because of your accident?

Niki, is that other people
or is that you?

I won, ok? On the all-important day
when it came down to it,

we raced on equal terms,
equally good cars.

And I put my life on the line
and I saw it through.

- And you call that winning?
- Yes.

The risks were totally unacceptable.
You were prepared to die.

- To me that's losing.
- Yes, I was. I admit it.

I was prepared to die
to beat you that day.

And that's the effect you have on me.
You'd pushed me that far.

And it felt great.

I mean, hell,
isn't that what we're in this for?

To stare death in the face
and to cheat it?

Come on, there's nobility in that.
It's like being knights.

You English, you're such ****s.

You know my position.
20% risk.

No, Niki, don't bring the percentages
into this. Don't be a pro.

The minute you do that,
you kill what's good about this.

You kill the sport.

James!

James!

I've got to go.

Careful in this thing.

James.

You know, in hospital, the toughest
part of my treatment was the vacuum.

Pumping the shit out of my lungs.
It was hell.

And while doing it,
I was watching television.

- You winning all my points.
- Your points?

"That bastard, Hunt," I would say.
"I hate that guy."

And then one day
the doctor came and said,

"Mr Lauda,
may I offer a piece of advice?"

"Stop thinking of it as a curse to
have been given an enemy in life."

It can be a blessing too.

A wise man gets more from his enemies
than a fool from his friends."

And you know what? He was right.

Look at us. We were both
a pair of kids when we met.

Hot-headed jerks in Formula Three.

Disowned by our families.
Headed nowhere.

And now we're both
champions of the world.

- It was not bad.
- No, it's not bad.

So don't let me down now.
I need you busting my ****.

- Get back to work.
- I will, Niki, I will.

But I intend to enjoy myself first.

Some of life needs
to be for pleasure.

What's the point of having
a million cups and medals

and planes
if you don't have any fun?

How is that winning?

- James!
- We're gonna leave without you!

- I'll see you on race day, champ.
- You will... champ.

You look good, Niki.

The only guy to have his face burnt
off and it be an improvement.

Of course, he didn't listen to me.

For James,
one world title was enough.

He had proved what he needed
to prove,

to himself
and anyone who doubted him.

And two years later he retired.

When I saw him next
in London seven years later,

me as champion again,
him as broadcaster,

he was barefoot
on a bicycle with a flat tyre.

Still living each day like his last.

When I heard he'd died,
aged 45, of a heart attack,

I wasn't surprised.
I was just sad.

People always think of us as rivals,

but he was among
the very few I liked

and even fewer that I respected.

He remains the only person I envied.