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This is live coverage of the
1959 24 Hours of Le Mans.

We've reached the half-way
point and so far witnessed

Aston Martin #5
driven by Carroll Shelby

making great games in the last hour.

If he keeps this pace up
he could have a chance at the...

He's coming in. He's coming in.

Let's go!

I know you're tired.
Come on! Let's make it fast!

Go! Go! Go!

She's running a little hot.

Fire!

Give him blanket.

Get it off me! Off!

You okay?

Fill the tank!

- Shelby, you just...
- Am I on fire?

- Am I on goddamn fire?
- No, you're not...

Fill the tank!

- Where am I, Eddie?
- 2 laps up by Frank.

We're good. Go get them.

Aston Martin #5 driven by Carroll Shelby
is maintaining his lead

as we are hearing
the final minutes of the race.

Shelby.

The crown is at their feet.

- Shelby.
- Takes the title.

An American wins Le Mans!

Shelby!

- Carroll Shelby.
- What?

This is something
you can't ignore anymore.

I take the pills. The pills work.

An elevated heart rate, say 130 BPM

sustained even for a short period,
you run a critical risk of cardiac arrest.

- I'll race shorter format then.
- That's not gonna work.

I can race NASCAR, Formula 1.

The valve is shot, Shelby.
This is as serious as it gets.

In my opinion you're lucky
to be sitting here today.

I feel real lucky.

Luckiest guy on Earth.

There's a point at 7000 RPM
where everything fades.

The machine becomes weightless.
Just disappears.

And all that's left is a body
moving through space and time.

7000 RPM.

That's where you meet it.

It asks you a question.

The only question that matters.

"Who are you"?

Now it's Von Trips in the Ferrari
coming into the corkscrew.

He is breaking late,

He's set a new lap record!

No, you don't!

A month ago this car was fun.

Now, it won't even start.
And when it does it's...

When I pull out of the driveway
the dog has a heart attack.

All I'm asking is for you
to make it like it was.

You've cocked up the inlet valves
and the cloaks...

Nothing wrong with the car.
It's the way it's being driven.

The way it's being driven?

Too much fuel and not enough spark.
That's what's making her misfire.

You wanna run that
by me in English?

All right, sir.

That there... That is a sport car.

You have to drive her like a sport car.

If you drive her like a school teacher,
she'll clog up.

Try changing up at 5000 RPM, not two.

Drive like you mean it.
Hard, tight, she'll run clean.

Are you telling me
I don't know how to drive my own car?

No.

But if you ask me, this isn't your car.
Your car is more Plymouth, Studebaker.

You and me have a problem, buddy?

I don't have a problem.
I run MG. Mine's just fine.

Screw you you limey prick!
I want my money back!

Behave. I'd give it to ya.

But you haven't paid
for last months service yet.

This country,
the customer is always right.

- You ever hear of that?
- Yeah.

Utter nonsense.

And remember, I advanced the timing,
so, smidge twitchy in first!

Give her revs up. Good lad. Return.

Ciao.

Another satisfied customer?

Can I help you, Miss?

Wasn't that an MGA 1500?

You know your cars.

I like them.

I love the sound they make.
The way it goes right through you.

That vibration.

Mine's the
wood paneled Country Squire.

Across the street.

The real huprod.

Oh, yeah?

- Is it fast?
- Very.

Wait a second.
What type of girl are you?

Type of girl who likes the smell
of wet gasoline.

Burnt rubber.

Are you some kind of a deviant?

Only since I married you.

Hey, Garry.
What's going on?

- What's going on?
- I don't know.

Shut it down, Mr. Beebe.

John!

Hear that?

That's the sound
of the Ford Motor Company

out of business.

In 1899 my grandfather
Henry my God Ford

was walking home from Edison Illumination
after working a double shift.

He was ruminating.

That morning he had himself an idea
that changed the world.

65 years and 47 million
automobiles later,

what shall be his legacy?

Gettin' it in the tailpipe
from a Chevy Impala.

Here's what I want you to do.
Walk home.

While you're walking
I want you to ruminate.

Man comes to my office with an idea.
That man keeps his job.

Rest of you second best
losers stay home.

You don't belong in Ford.

Shelby.

I see you. Open up, buddy.

- Hey.
- Go away.

Come on. You can do it.

Come on, baby.

8:30 AM, time to row.
Let's go!

- Let's go! Let's go! Go! Go!
- Go away!

It's 8:30 AM, baby. Time to row.

Come on.

- Hey, Phil.
- Hey, Bob.

Is Shelby here?

It's touch and go.

Shelby. You're up bright and early.

Early bird gets the worm, Pops.

All right, who are you worried about?

You got Red Faris and Bill Rushton.
They're all in 327's.

Corvettes. What about Bondurant?

Bondurant, he's still driving...

Mr. Shelby, can I get an autograph?

number 614.

All right, just relax, all right?

We gonna eat
those 'vettes for breakfast.

We're lighter, we're faster.
That don't work - we're nastier.

Hey, Bill.
Take it easy on us today, bud.

All right.

Paragraph 15.4 Section 2B
of the SCCA standard

dictates all AF class cars must have
minimum trunk space 20″ by 12″ by 6″.

Your trunk doesn't close,

- ergo car fails standard.
- Wait, wait. What?

Ergo car is disqualified from
said Class A.

No, no, no.

- Can I ask you a question?
- All right.

When you were a little boy.

Did you think, when I grow up

I wanna go to the fabled
Willow Springs Raceway

and I wanna enforce
Paragraph 15.4 Section 2B

of the SCCA regulations
on luggage capacity.

All right, that's it.

I'm ruling you and your team
disqualified from this race.

If it isn't Lance Reventlow.

Shelby.

How you're doing Lance?

- Pops.
- Hey Lance.

Allow me to introduce
Dieter Voss.

Runs Brumos Porsche
out of Jacksonville Florida.

I know all about Mr. Voss,

you're having a hell of a
season with that Abarth, sir.

- Seeing results for your Cobra too.
- Thank you.

- Your guy Miles is impressive.
- You're following Miles?

He was a USAC road racing champ in '61.
He won the Pikes Peak Hill Climb.

He was SCCA C-class champion,
3 years in a row

in this piece of shit
MG he built himself.

We heard he's difficult.

What, Ken?

No, no. Ken is a puppy dog.

Lance, tell the man.
You raced against Ken.

I've driven more behind him
than against him.

Brumos is looking for a driver
for our number two car at Sebring.

Is that right?

You think your guy Miles
could make the grade?

Oh, well...

Jim, is it impotently
bloody carry on on your trunk?

Gentlemen, excuse me a moment.

To be honest, Ken was born for Sebring.

Nothing in there about my trunk
and your lovely little portmanteau.

You're holding a '62 edition of the SCCA.

You can stick this bloody sticker
where the sun never shines.

Hey. Hey, Bill.
What seems to be the problem?

The problem is
that Bill here is an arsehole.

- No, he doesn't mean that.
- Yes, he does.

He really does think
that Bill is an arsehole.

I'm just doing my job here.

Bill, in my experience, there is...
Listen to me.

Something like this, there's always
the middle ground, all right?

- Ken's out of line, all right?
- And I'm just doing my job.

I understand you are.

You know how it gets on a race day.
You know that, all right?

But you're not gonna DQ us
over the trunk.

Happy, Bill?

I'll talk to him.
You just go and have a great day.

Shit.

Bulldog.

Do you know who that was
I was just talking to?

- Bill.
- Before that.

No.

- It was Dieter Voss.
- Who's that?

He runs Porsche, Ken.

It's a little German car company,
maybe you heard of it.

He wanted you to drive at Sebring,
but he heard you were difficult.

I thought we felt
the same way about

Germans.

Do you like losing, Ken?

- Excuse me?
- You heard me.

I don't lose.

Without sponsors, you get no car, Ken.

Last I checked,
the professionals all have a car.

You cannot win the SCCA without one.
If you are not winning you are losing.

Don't make me lump this
at your head.

Did you bring your son all the way out here
to watch you get disqualified,

or just act like a jackass?

That answers that.

Peter.

May I help you, gentlemen?

Yes, is Ken Miles here?

No.

- We need to speak to Mr. Miles.
- I'm his wife.

Welcome to the 1963 World's Greatest.

112 cars will be competing
at this 40 lap race.

Hey, Ken.
What happened to your shield?

New design.

It looks like we are about to begin.

The cars are completing the roll out lap.
The green flag is out.

And they're approaching the starting lap.

Here we go.

Bloody hell!

Learn to drive, you pillock!

So, Shelby, you miss it?

Hey, Sam.

Guy wins the 24 Hours of Le Mans.
Suddenly retires. Starts selling cars.

It just doesn't make sense.

Well, unless the rumors are true,
of course.

What rumors would those be, Sam?

That Carroll Shelby quit driving
'cause he lost his nerve.

I'll give it up and I'll break you
on the next turn, Bob.

Nice try, Bob

Nice move from Ken Miles.
22 laps remaining.

It's been an incredible day
here in Willow Springs.

We've seen some exciting riding.

With only 1 lap remaining
in this 40 lap race.

We are coming to the final scratch.

Dan Gurney has been leading
the pack for the most of the...

Red Faris is off the track.

That leaves Dan Gurney for the lead,
followed by journeyman Ken Miles.

Now for you, Dan.

And they're coming
around the last turn.

Gurney is still in the lead
with Ken Miles out of dispute.

Miles is looking for an opening.

Not yet.

Come on!

Can Gurney hold him off?
The final streak.

Not yet.

Gurney is blocking him out.

Now.

Nice move, Ken.

They're wheel to wheel.

Come on!

An incredible finish for Ken Miles.
Didn't see that one coming.

He's difficult, but good.

That goes for a nice coup of tea.

I've got the kettle on.

Hop in.

Pops, frame this.

Hey.

We did it!

What's wrong?

The IRS came.
They've padlocked the garage.

All right, Petey.

Couple of years ago

you said we'd a nest-egg.

Correct.

- A couple of years ago.
- Correct.

So, just to be clear,
we are buggered.

Absolutely.

As in totally?

As in not a bean
or a pot in which to piss.

Spares. Stock. All gone.
Tools. My tools are locked up in there.

I'll figure something out.

In 1945 our soldiers came home.

What was the first thing
that they did?

They had sex.

17 years later, those babies,
they've grown.

They've got jobs. They've got licenses.

But they do not wanna drive

the same dull 50's cars
their parents drove.

You see, kids today, they want glamor.
They wanna sex appeal.

They wanna go fast.

Gentlemen.

It's time for the Ford Motor Company
to go racing.

We're already in racing, Iacocca.

NASCAR? It's regional, sir.

If you go to the movies.

You open up a magazine, you don't see
good ol' boys in Winston-Salem.

You see

Sophia Loren,

Monica Vitti.

James Bond does not drive a Ford, sir.

That's because he's a degenerate.

See?

God, I'd like to be a degenerate.

Just give me one second, please.

Is this part of it?

- Is this going anywhere, Iacocca?
- Sorry, sir.

- All right. All right. That's enough.
- Sir, if you just bear waiting...

Turn it off! Lights!

Lee, in the last 3 years
you and your marketing team

have presided over
the worst sale slump in US history.

Why exactly should Mr. Ford listen to you?

Because we've been thinking wrong.

Ferrari.

They won 4 out of the last 5 Le Mans.

We need to think like Ferrari.

Ferrari makes fewer cars in a year
than we make in a day.

We spend more on toilet paper
than they do on their entire output.

You want us to think like them?

Enzo Ferrari will go down in history

as the greatest car
manufacturer of all time.

Why?

Is it because he built the most cars?

No.

It's because of what his cars mean.

Victory.

Ferrari wins at Le Mans.
People they...

They want some of that victory.

What if the Ford badge meant victory?

And meant it where it counts with the
first group of 17-year-olds in history.

- with money in their pockets.
- This would take years.

Decades to test and develop a race team
capable of taking on Ferrari.

Ferrari's bankrupt.

Enzo spent every lire he's got chasing
perfection, and you know something?

He got there.

But now he's broke.

You don't have to give up racing
to get a bloody day job, Ken.

I think I do.

I've had my fun, it's time
to put food on the table and grow up.

The garage didn't pay the pills.
Now it's locked up.

Racing doesn't pay them either
and I keep winning.

Yeah, because you're good.

I can't play the game.

I'm not what they call "the people person".

You don't say.

And I'm 45 years old.
Do you really think I'm gonna change?

I'm never gonna get the good rides.
I started too late.

Because you fought in a bloody war!

If you stop
you'd be bloody insufferable.

It was a quick all around the region.
It's over.

Let's look on the bright side.

Now I can get fat and old,
trim the roses and eat pork pies.

Scuzi, please.
No photos, prego.

Relax.

You gotta understand.

This is like the Mafia showing up
to buy the Statue of Liberty.

Kind of the opposite, actually.

if the Press gets wind of this,
the shit will hit the Fangio.

- Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.
- Franco Gozzi, Ferrari.

Sonno queste...
Your journalist?

No, no, Mr. Iacocca.
It's our cameras, just for history.

Four liters Colombo engine.

One man assembles
the entire engine by himself.

Another man assembles the transmission.

Everything hand-built.

Benissimo.

Racing department.

Lee, that's him.

This merger between our companies
will form two entities.

Ford-Ferarri: 90% owned by Ford
who controls all production.

Secondly, Ferarri-Ford, the race team.
90% owned by Ferrari.

In order to secure this
Ford will pay the sum...

10 million dollars.

Excuse me.

He will need some time to read this.

Please.

Understood.

Well done, thank you.

Only one small question.
It concerns my race program.

If I wish to race Le Mans
and you do not wish for me to race Le Mans,

Do we or do we not go?

In that highly unlikely scenario.

If we just can't agree then, yes.
I mean, no.

You are correct.

You do not go.

My integrity as a constructor,
as a man, as an Italian

is deeply insulted by your proposal.

Go back to Michigan.

Back to your big ugly factory.

Back to your big ugly factory
making its ugly little cars.

Tell your pig-headed boss that all his

smug executives are
worthless sons of whores.

Tell him he's not Henry Ford.

He is Henry Ford II.

He played us.

Old man Enzo had no intention
of selling to us.

He used us to up his price.

Embarrass our company,
insult your leadership.

It was a bad idea from the start.

What exactly did he say?

He said Ford makes ugly little cars,
and we make 'em in ugly factory.

He said our executives are sons of whores.

About me.

He called you fatster.

Pig-headed.

Go on.

He said you're not Henry Ford.

You're Henry Ford II.

I want the best engineers.

The best drivers.

I don't care what it costs.

We're gonna build a race car.

And we gonna bury
that goddamn greasy wop

a 100 feet deep
under the finish line at Le Mans.

And I will be there to watch it.

Here they come.
Go! Go! Go!

- Asshole!
- You're really pathetic!

I'm so sorry, girls.

Charlie, quit throwing
crackers at the girls

all damn day, goddammit.

- Do I gotta deal with this?
- It's already taken care of.

Sorry about that.

So, yeah. 289 cubic inch V8.

All right.

Extensive rework of AC Ace's front end

and a stronger rear diff
to handle the torque.

How does she handle the quarter mile?

I'm not saying
you should go drag racing.

But quarter mile is 13.6.

- Is that good?
- That's real good.

He sold that same car
3 times this week.

- You take cash? Is cash okay?
- Cash is okay.

Yeah, mister, you just bought yourself
one hell of a sport car.

I'll tell you what, I'm gonna... Phil.

I'm gonna pass you off to my colleague
here, he gonna take care of you.

Phil, Wyatt.

I'll steal him for one second.

You take the payment.

Whatever you do, do not let him take
that car, that's Jeff Blitzer's car.

And Frank Collins's.
And Steve McQueen's.

Shit, I forgot about McQueen.

Morning, can I help?

Carroll Shelby.

Maybe.

Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.

What's with the wrench?

That? Long story.

We are just goin'
from strength to strength here, Lee.

Terrific sales.
We're killing it on the track.

Now I know we owe Ford
for the last batch of engines...

Mr. Shelby, I can assure you
I'm not here for the money

that you might owe
Ford for spare parts.

You're not?

No, I'm not.

Okay.

I'm here on behalf of Mr. Ford,
Henry Ford II.

Suppose, hypothetically,

he wanted his company
to win the 24 Hours of Le Mans.

You're one of the only Americans
that's ever done it.

I'm wondering, what's it take?

Hypothetically?

Hypothetically.

It take something money can't buy.

Money can buy speed.

It isn't about speed, Lee.

It's not just like those other
tracks where all you do is

turn to the left for 4 hours.

To win that race, you need a car

that's light enough to do
200 on the straight areas,

but strong enough to keep that up
for 3000 miles without a break.

Not just the best car y’all ever made,

but better than anything that Enzo Ferrari
shows up with that year.

And that just gets you to the green flag,
that's where your problems really start.

- Is everything okay?
- Go away.

So, you're saying it's challenging.

Look, it's not even a track, Lee.

Le Mans's 8.5 miles of country road

that's narrow, ungraded. It's rough.

There's no camber on the turns. No rails.

You gotta do that for 24 hours.

24 hours, Lee.

That means night.

Half of that race is in the dark,
you can't see shit.

Cars coming up on you out of nowhere.

Drivers stumblin' around the track
pourin' blood.

Maybe one of them is your friend.
Maybe he's on fire.

You're exhausted. You're hungry.

Can't remember your name.
What country you're in.

And all of a sudden you realize
you're doing 198 on the straight.

And if anything goes wrong.

You blow a gasket, 5 cent washer.

That's it. Whole thing's over.

Ferrari wins again.

Just like it won last year.

The year before that,
and the year before that.

Yeah, it's challenging.

You don't think that
Ford Motor Company can build

the greatest race car
the world's ever seen?

You think that we are
incapable of winning event like that?

Even if we had a brilliant partner?

Even if we wrote a blank check?

What I'm saying is
you can't buy a win, Lee,

but maybe you could buy the guy
who gets you a shot.

The new transmission.
Axles, shocks all around.

Ditch the body and the tires

and you have yourself a contender.

Anything on this beauty
that does work?

The mirrors are outstanding.

I saw that walking up.

So, what?
You're just passing or evening stroll?

Actually, bulldog,
I have a proposition for you.

You gonna build a car
to beat old man Ferrari?

with Ford. With a Ford?

Correct.

And how long did you tell them
that you needed?

Two, three hundred years?

90 days.

All right, so, let's just look
at this for a moment.

And for argument's sake,

let's just forget about
the whole 90 day thing.

Let's just pretend you got all the money
in the world and all the time in the world.

I like the sound of that.

You think that Ford
are gonna let you build

the car that you want
the way you want it?

The Ford Motor Company?

Those guys?

Have you ever been to Detroit?
They have floors and floors of lawyers,

and millions of marketing guys,
and they all gonna wanna meet you,

all of them gonna wanna get their photo
taken with the great Carroll Shelby,

and they gonna kiss your arse, and then
they gonna go back to their lovely offices,

and they would work on
new ways to screw you.

Why? Because they can't help it.

Because they just wanna
please their boss,

who wants to please his boss,
who wants to please his boss.

And they hate themselves for
it, but deep down,

who they hate even
more, the guys like you,

because you're not like them,
because you don't think like them,

because you're different.

It's coming straight from the Deuce.

He's serious.

They gonna put real money behind it.

I bet they are.

You know why?
Because someone, and I'm not saying who.

Someone has told them
that this is actually possible.

Look, this Sunday at Cloverfield,
they're launching a new Mustang.

I'm gonna announce the race program.

Just come on by.

Come take a look.
Listen to my speech.

I'm making a speech.
Bring Peter, he'll love it.

I'll watch you.

See you Sunday.

Dad, look at that.

Ford Mustang. What do you think?

I think it's a secretary's car.

I like it.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Would you mind not to do that?

Sorry.

- Is this your son?
- Yes, it is.

Would you ask him
to keep his hands off the paintwork?

No, no, Petey, you're okay.
Who are you?

Leo Beebe, Senior Executive Vice President,
Ford Motor Company.

I am responsible
for the launch of the Mustang.

At least now we know who's responsible.

- Don't get me wrong, Lenny.
- Leo.

It looks fantastic,
but inside it's a lump of lard

dressed up to fool the public.

My advice is: lose the Inline 6
and that idiotic 3 speeds,

shorten wheelbase.
Somehow lose half a ton.

- And lower the price.
- Dad.

But even then
I'd still choose the Chevy Chevelle.

That's a fucking terrible car.

How are we doing up there, Steve?

There's Cloverfield, Mr. Shelby.

Oh, yeah.

You mind if I take a shot
at the landing?

Come on, I mean it. I flew a B-29s
outta San Antonio back in '44.

- Are you kidding me?
- I did.

Okay.

Carroll, what are you doing?

- Does he know how to fly?
- Carroll.

I had an instructor
who'd tell me

Looking down I would say
it's probably a good time to buckle up.

Do everybody a favor
and stay on the ground.

That's a true story.

This is the car
you never expected for Detroit.

All right. Let's go.

Not staying, Ken?

It's a bloody pig in a poke, isn't it.

There they come now.

Wait, are they crashing?

Who is the pilot?

My guess, Peter...

Someone we know.

Everything all right up there?

No!

Hang on.

Shit!

I'll tell you what,
that's like riding a bike.

Talking about making an entrance.
Good grief.

- Shelby!
- Over here!

Hey out there.

Can we have an autograph, sir?

Shelby, this is Roy Lunn.

Ol' Roy here is developing
the prototype over in England.

Hell, I know Roy.
Good to see you, Roy.

Welcome to madhouse, Shelby.

Ford willed up the entire
executive committee for this one.

Hold that thought.

Hello, Mr. Lindbergh.

Did you like that?
Hey, Peter, how are you doing?

- Mr. Shelby.
- Good to see you.

Are you building a car
so you can beat Ferrari?

Well, we're gonna go to Le Mans,
that's for sure.

And if get across that finish line first
we gonna win.

Carroll, allow me to introduce Leo Beebe,
Senior Vice President Ford Motor.

Oh, sure, yeah.

- Please Mr. Beebe.
- Thank you for coming.

Say hello to Ken Miles
and his son Peter.

- We...
- Right.

We met.

Didn't we?

I'll take Petey for some pop.

Good luck with these guys, Shel.

- Bye, Mr. Shelby.
- See you, Pete.

Don't worry, he's gonna stay.

You two had a chance
to talk on the plane?

Yeah, Carroll, why don't we just...
Step this way for a second...

Look, it's pro forma.
It's window dressing.

But there's gotta be a sense
of getting the tape between you and....

- No, I don't.
- The group.

The group?

Senior creatives, Carroll.
Just to make sure everybody's comfortable.

I'm confused, Lee.

'Cause up until this moment
right now I was comfortable.

Why don't you take a look
out there, Carroll?

What do you see?

Do you know what I see?
I see a machine.

I see ten thousand moving parts
moving, hopefully, in harmony.

And it's my job to make it so.
It's my job to guide you through it.

I'm here to help you, Carroll.
But you gotta trust me.

- Excuse me, Lee.
- Carroll.

Do not step on that stage
if you don't trust me.

Please, welcome Mr. Carroll Shelby.

Gotta go.

- What did he say?
- He gets the drill.

Thank you.

If my Daddy was here today

he'd tell me to sit on down
and leave the yackin' to the college boys.

Like my cars, I'll make this fast.

When I was 10 years old,
my Pops said, son

it's a truly lucky man who knows
what he wants to do in this world.

'Cause that man will never work
a day in his life.

But there are a few, a precious few,

and hell I don't know
if they're lucky or not,

but there are a few people
who find something they have to do.

Something obsesses them.

Something if they can't do it,

it's gonna drive them
clean outta their mind.

I'm that guy.

And I know one other man
feels exactly the same.

His name...

His name is Mr. Henry Ford.

And together we gonna build
the fastest automobile in the world.

And we gonna make history too at Le Mans.

Let's go.

My name is Carroll Shelby.
I build race cars.

No, Whatever it is, no.

No.

30 minutes.

I'm spent, I wanna have a bath.

You gonna wanna see this.
Trust me.

30 minutes.
I'll have you back for meatloaf and gravy.

- 30 minutes.
- Yeah.

Bloody hell.

Fresh off the plane from England.

She's still a little
on the rare side of cooked.

Come on.

Interesting.

Well?

- It's awful.
- It's worse than awful.

It doesn't track.
The 3rd gear is too high,

torque is not reaching the road.

Steering's loose because
the front end gets light.

At over 140 it thinks it's...

- Airplane.
- Yeah.

It wants to lift off and fly to Hawaii.

Anything else?

One second.

You were back late last night.

Yeah.

Were you working?

Didn't go anyplace?

What?

I'm asking, did you go
anyplace last night?

Mollie.

It's a simple question.

And I answered, didn't I?

What was the answer?

Is something up, luv?

What are you doing?

What are you doing?
You're driving very fast.

Am I? Am I?

Yes, you are!

Bloody hell!
What are you..? What is this?

You tell me 'cause I don't know.

What? Slow down!

Mollie!

Please! Slow it down! All right?
You're trying to kill us or something?

- I thought we love this shit.
- What?

Bloody hell!

- It's a bit of racing fun, no?
- No, it's not the same!

I think it's thrilling!

All right.

I saw you, all right?

I saw you leaving with Shelby,
and I saw you coming back.

Okay. Shit. Okay.
Slow down.

All then all day you got
that stupid look on your face.

Mollie, slow down!
You're too close in.

Mollie, pull on the brakes right now!

Not until you tell me what's going on!

All right. I went to look at a car.

- With Shelby?
- With Shelby.

- A racing car?
- Sort of.

There's a corner coming,
you better hold on.

Are you gonna lift your foot off
at all through this?

No. 'Cause I like that clean race inline.

Slow down!

Okay. Shel offered me a job.
Ford owns a car

that they wanna put up
against the Ferrari.

- You told me you were done!
- I didn't say yes!

- Slow down!
- You told me you quit!

- I don't understand.
- You fat and old you said!

Fat and old!

- That's what you told me!
- I don't understand.

Are you upset because I said I was done
or because I looked at a race car?

Just don't lie to me again!

Don't make it a secret,
what you want or what you feel

just because you think
it's gonna make me happy!

Mol, I don't even know what I feel.

If you do this

they better be paying you this time.

'Cause I can't work any more hours
and look after Peter.

The IRS has the garage.
I'm not losing my home.

It's 200 a day

plus expenses.

Are you shitting me?

But, I haven't decided.

200 dollars a day?

Are you nuts?

This is ridiculous.

Grabbing air. That's the problem.

Over 90 air's getting in, not getting out.

It's the nose.
I can feel it in the wheel.

Mr. Miles, if there's a problem
the computer will find it.

Charlie, get some scotch tape
and a ball of wool.

All right.

Good, good. Now let's just
get all of this junk out.

All right, Pops?

What are they doing?

Making the car faster.

There! Right there!
Airflow's getting stuck.

I see it. Yarn blows straight up.
Front's lifting. Damn he's right.

This car wants to go faster. I feel it.

Any lighter we're getting fragile.

We took 70 pounds out
of her in the last week.

She's outputting max horsepower
from this displacement.

- So put in a bigger engine.
- Where we gonna put it? On the roof?

Managed to make it 52 pounds lighter
than the NASCAR unit.

All new aluminum cylinder heads.

Vibration dampers. Water pump.
Smaller valves.

We call it "The Beast".

I see why, but how is it gonna fit
without the redesigning the engine pit?

It certainly wasn't easy.
Good Morning, gentlemen, Mr. Shelby.

So, you already put that in a GT-40?

I'm afraid we have.

I'll be damned.

It's heavy, of course.

Problems with the handling especially
the stopping. I can show you the data.

What problems?

Can I borrow that?

Just a second, rhank you.

Ken! Ken!

Perhaps we ought to check with HQ
before you can drive...

- What did you say?
- We should ask...

All right.

Mr. Shelby. Welcome to Dearborn.

What are you doing
at a test track?

You're gonna get Castrol
all over that nice suit.

I want to hear your thoughts on a few
planning decisions. Personnel for Le Mans.

It's a hell of a line up.
Ken Miles. Phil Hill.

Chris Amon. Bruce McLaren.

Hill's a lock. Amon. McLaren too.

We're less sure about Miles.

We like Richie Ginter.
Masten Gregory. Bob Bondurant?

You want the best driver for the car,
who understands the machine, that's Ken.

Yes.

More of that, please.
More of that, my girl.

I may not get the finer points of racing
Mr. Shelby, but I do know people.

Miles is... He's a beatnik.
He dresses like one.

Ford means reliability.
Ken Miles is not a Ford man.

Get it up! Get it up!

What's the lap record here, Burt?

1.58.

1.50. Dead.

A beatnik? That man landed
a busted tank on the beach at D-Day

and drove it clean
across Europe to Berlin.

A beatnik?

Lee here asked me a while back,
what's the one thing money can't buy.

I'll tell you what it is.

A pure racer behind the wheel of your car.

That's Ken Miles.

Be that as it may,

we think he may be too pure.

Carrol, do not lose sight
of the big picture here.

Too pure?

What exactly does that mean?

Means he's all about himself.

ABC puts a microphone under his nose.
Perhaps there's a detail he dislikes.

Millions watching.

Do you trust him not to put out
the wrong message?

He can get it.
Clean cut all American poster boy.

And stick him behind the wheel.
Teach him what to say.

Shit, you get Doris Day to drive the car
if all you wanna do is lose.

So, you don't agree with us
on this issue?

I'm saying you're gotta trust me
on this one.

Carroll, with marketing concerns,
that's just not possible.

Put a Ford type driver
in a Ford car, Mr. Shelby.

That's the Ford way.

Yet another championship win for Ferrari...

Ferrari wins.

Wedges. We have wedges.

Good. Good.

Perfect.

- 40?
- Yup.

Hey, boss.

You got a passport?

- What's that?
- Sign that. Get a passport.

Get it back to me by Friday.

Boys, I'm going to France.

Phil.

Ken, can I get a word?

Can I take this?

Do you know why Ford named it the GT-40?
Why they put the 40 on there?

- No.
- Regulations.

We gotta be 40″ high
to make the ground clearance requirements.

No more, no less.
They measure it before every race.

Problem is, that with that height
it's too much drag under the car.

We got a solution. Wedges.
We put wedges in...

You're not coming next week.

You're not coming, Ken.

We're taking McLaren.
Chris Amon. Phil Hill

and Bob Bondurant.

This is Ford's call.

It is their opinion that
you're not a good image,

so you cannot drive their race car.

Putting aside the fact that you made
that car whatever the hell it is,

and you're the best man I got
behind the wheel.

I'm gonna re-route the oil line.

If there's spillage it could drip
onto the rear near side disc.

Ken.

Tell the boys to watch
their pace come sunrise.

The gearbox will overheat.

Ken, race is starting soon.
Want it on the radio?

Not unless you do.

but it's still the number
2 car driven by Chris Amon.

In third place is the #1
Ford driven by Bruce McLaren.

A tremendously bad start for the Ford GT.

3:43 for lap for car #2 Ford.

I think it's a little bit quick
for this stage of the game.

Racing too hot?

Another Ford has come in to the pit

to see it pushed into
the pit by the mechanic.

Head gasket.
The Car is not a moon rocket.

Leading #20 Ferrari of Michael Fahr.

So, we have Fords running one,
two, three, how about that?

Too soon. Surely too soon.

Here's a big story,
the lead Ford driven by

a Rickie Getzer with
gearbox trouble and the new leader...

Gearbox. I told them to be gentle with it.

Who's there?

What's that you're listening to?

Some race over in France.

Exciting?

Not really paying much attention.

It's not exactly Champagne.

Just got bubbles.

Thanks, Mollie.

Grace?

Yes, sir?

I will sent him right in. Thank you.

Mr. Shelby, Mr. Ford will see you now.

All right.

This way, Mr. Shelby.

Mr. Ford, gentlemen.

Shelby.

Give me one reason why
I don't fire everyone

associated with this
abomination, starting with you.

Well, sir.

I was thinking about that very question

as I sat out there in
your lovely waiting room.

As I was sitting there I
watched that little red folder

right there go
through 4 pairs of hands

before it got to you.

Of course, I don't include the
22 or so other Ford employees

who probably poked at it before it
made its way up to the 19th floor.

With all due respect, sir,
you can’t win a race by committee.

You need one man in charge.

Now, the good news is, as I see it,
is that even with the all extra weight

we still managed to put ol' Mr. Ferrari
exactly where we want him.

Did we?

Oh, yes.

Expand.

Well.

Sure, we haven't...

We haven't worked out
how to corner yet.

Or stay cool. Or stay on the ground.

And a lot of stuff broke.

In fact, the only thing that didn't break
was the brakes.

Yeah, right now, we don't even know

if our paint job will
last the whole 24 hours.

But our last lap, we clocked 218 mph
down the Mulsanne straight.

Now, in all his years of racing

ol' Enzo ain't never seen
anything move that fast.

And now he knows without a doubt,

we're faster than he is.

Even with the wrong driver.
And all the committees.

And that's what he's thinking about

while he's sitting in
Modena, Italy right now.

That man is scared to death

that this year you actually
might be smart enough to start trusting me.

So, yeah.

I'd say you got Ferrari
exactly where you want him.

You're welcome.

Come here.

You see that little building down there?

In World War II, three out of five
US bombers rolled off that line.

You think Roosevelt beat Hitler?
Think again.

This isn't the first time
Ford Motor's gone to war in Europe.

We know how to do more
than push paper.

And there is one man
running this company.

You report to him.

You understand me?

Yes, sir.

Go ahead, Carroll. Go to war.

Thank you, sir.

You were right. It's a gearbox.

We ran too hot.

Three out of four of 'em broke.
Rod blew on other one.

We're goin' back, Ken.

They told me I have
a carte blanche this time.

I looked up,
it's French for "horse shit".

I know they gonna squeeze
our nuts any way they can

as soon as they work out how.

Well, the ice cream's melting.

All right. Hey, Ken.

You want me to apologize?

You want me to beg?

I don't know, let's try it out.
Let's see how that feels.

Ken, I'm sorry. Sincerely.

Do you have any idea the kind of shit that I
had to eat just to get 4 wheels on that grid?

No, you don't, 'cause you don't deal
with any of that stuff.

Now, knock it off, Ken!

We got work to do,
and this car ain't gonna build itself.

Okay. All right.

Come here!

Bloody car salesman.

Shit!

Come on. Now you're gonna get this.

Get off me!

Come here!

Mollie, darling.

Yes, luv?

Could you give me a pop, please?

Yes, luv.

- Do you want one too, Shelby?
- No.

- Yes, please, Mollie.
- No, Mollie. No.

He can get his own. Just for me, please.

How long has that been?

It's gotta be
three or four years at least.

Riverside.

Yeah, the SCCA Divisional Championship.
You broke my finger.

What was that?

Nippy...
Nippy bloody thing?

You did on the arm that thing.

Yeah. I call that "The Llama bite."

You named it.

Where'd you learn that?
From the girl scouts?

You wanna go again?

Here you go.

- You're an angel.
- Thank you.

My pleasure.

I'm about to go to the grocery store.
Anything you think you'll need?

Ice cream. Ice cream would be good.
And... bread.

All right.

No, I'm good. Thank you.

Thanks, Mol.

You still taking those for you ticker?

Only because they're so delicious.

Go to hell.

Get it up!

Sam.

Hey, Peter. Come here.

There's still a lag when I hit the gas.
Let's get rid of the vacuum secondaries.

Charlie, get a Holley carb
we're gonna rebuild the throttle assembly.

Three weeks to Daytona
and it still feels like a bag of squirrels.

Brake heat.
That's a whole different ball game.

All right, Petey.
Let's go for that ride.

What are you doing?

See that crack?
That's my marker for turn 8.

To slow down?

Push of brakes and downshift.

But you'll be going a 150 mph.

Yeah.

So how do you see it?

You go fast, but as the car speeds up
everything else slows down.

You don't do that.
You do this. All right?

And then you see everything.

Do you set other markers?

Indeed I do. Lot of them.

'Cause you can't just push the car hard
the whole way?

That's right.

You have to be kind to the car. You feel
the poor thing groaning underneath you.

If you're gonna push a piece of machinery to
the limit and expect it to hold together,

you have to have some sense
of where that limit is.

Look out there.
Out there is the perfect line.

No mistakes.

Every gear change. Every corner.

Perfect.

You see it?

I think so.

Most people can't.

Most people don't even know
it's out there. But it is.

It's there.

You want some ice cream?

Yeah.

Come on then.

- You know what this marker is?
- What?

That one.
Pull the finger. You'll find out.

How much longer
before he comes in?

We change drivers every 4 hours,
so about 10 minutes.

Hang on. You're saying Beebe is
a 100 % in charge now?

Yes. And he wants Miles gone.

Look, it is personal with this guy.

Yes. Yes, the leverage
to stick it to you.

He and the Deuce are flying there tomorrow.
He's gonna tell you in person.

All he is hoping for
is that you lose your cool.

It's time to let this go.

You cannot destroy the whole thing,
not for one goddamn guy.

- Sure I can.
- But why?

'Cause while we're here talking,
he's out there getting it done.

Oh, shit!

He's got brake fail.

- Get him out!
- Peter! Go inside.

Just stay there!

- Ken!
- Get him out!

- Hurry!
- Ken!

Ken!

The brakes.

This is rip out. The damned engine.
We can't use it if we can't stop.

The brakes would last longer
if you slowed down a bit.

Wouldn't that defeat the whole purpose
of the extra power?

I thought the whole point was
to win the damned race.

Maybe we could design a new assembly.
Instead of swapping out pads in the pits,

swap out the entire
braking system, rotors included.

Put in a fresh one.

Wait, wait. Pops.
We're allowed to do that?

I don't know. I don't read French.

Brakes are a part like any other.
We are allowed to change parts.

Yes.

Will we have time to do that?

I don't know yet, Charlie.

I'm gonna take him home.

All right.

- Sort this shit out.
- I will.

Have you ever been on fire?

No. It's never happened to me.

The suit's flameproof, see.
Keeps heat out.

Yeah.

But Lewis Evans burnt to death
in the Moroccan Grand Prix.

He had a flameproof suit on.

Yeah, but...

See, he got stuck.
He couldn't breathe.

So as long as you get out
of the car, you're okay.

Dad got out.

- He sure did.
- Peter.

- Bye.
- See ya.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

What's wrong with you?

Don't tell me brakes or...
Me and boys kicking the bucket out there.

It's something to do
with the suits, isn't it?

It's under control.

What is it?

You know how we talked about
you do your thing, I do my thing.

This is my thing.

- Shel.
- Just trust me, Ken.

You got a plan?

Absolutely.

A good one?

It's high risk.

- How high risk?
- Extremely high risk.

Well, that's something.

- Glad we had this talk.
- Anytime.

Mr. Ford. This is a surprise.

Apologies for the
unannounced intrusion, Mr. Shelby.

A man pays 9 million dollars
for an automobile

he ought at least be able to see it.

That sounds reasonable enough.

- Shelby, can I have a word?
- Sure.

In private?

Yeah, that would be preferable.

All right.

Phil, you wanna take care of Mr. Ford here?
Mr. Ford, that's Phil Remington.

- Of course.
- Come to my office, Leo.

Pleasure, sir.

Let me give a little tour of your car.

We took out 289 small block
and put in 427 7 liter.

Firstly, I wanna just clear the air.

I hope that whatever disagreements
between us can just be chopped up to

natural red-bloodedness
in the heat of battle.

I appreciate that Leo. Truly I do.

It falls on me, Shelby,
to inform you that

I have been appointed overall
Executive Director of the Racing program.

Now, I do hope that
this won't be a problem between us.

I assure you, Leo. It will not.

Hey, Carroll!

Carroll!

And what is the top speed
with the 427th?

Why don't we take it for a spin?

What?

Go on, Mr. Ford.
Hope on in. Go on.

You want me to...

To see what 9 million dollars feel like.

Open the door!

Hey! Open the door!

Open the door!

Just hold me right there.
And you take my hand.

Oh, God! I sat on my nuts.

I'm gonna build the next one
for comfort, don't you worry.

Open the door.

Sorry sir, if you would just
give me a moment?

Open the door!

You ready?

The name in the middle
of that steering wheel

should tell you that I was born
ready, Shelby.

- Hit it.
- Attaboy.

Oh, that's got a little.

- Open the door!
- Here we go.

Here we go, Mr. Beebe.
Are you okay, sir?

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

It's about right now they uninitiated
have a tendency to soil themselves.

Mr. Ford.

Are you okay?

Mr. Ford. You all right?

I had no idea.

I had no idea.

I wish my Daddy
were alive to see this.

To feel this.

This is not a machine just anybody
can get in and easily control.

Absolutely not. I had no idea.

You wanna win Le Mans.

You really wanna take 1st place,
Ken Miles is the man to do it.

Good timing.

He knows this car
because he helped me build it.

Shelby, you know I've already appointed
Leo Beebe Director of

Which is exactly
why I'm talking to you.

You let Ken Miles race Daytona.

If he wins,

he get to drive Le Mans.

And if he doesn't?

Ford Motor Company gets full ownership
of Shelby American.

Lock, stock and brand. Forever.

We're an hour of 6 at the Daytona 24.

And Fords are dominating the leaderboard.

Shelby American's Ken Miles
holds a narrow lead over

the Holman Moody's Ford,
driven by Walt Hansgen.

I don't bloody think so, Walt.

This race is not just a test of our cars,
but also our teams.

As you know we have a second team
out there today.

- Holman Moody?
- That's right.

Walt's pushing it too fast.

He's pushing 7000 RPM!
Get the EZ sign out there.

Come on. Move! Do it now!

Every one of these GTs out there today
is under my direct supervision.

And, of course, the supervision
of Henry Ford II.

The drivers. The speed. The strategy.

Even the RPMs are determined by us.

Ken Miles is on the furious battle
with Hansgen

as the custom ground stand.

Hansgen is taking an appointment.
Miles is to return him on.

Hansgen takes the lead...

Oh, blimey! Did you see that?

We are racing.

- We are still racing!
- Come on, guys! Let's go!

- Let's go! Move it!
- He's coming in!

Let's go! Let's go, guys!
Come on!

Let's go! Let's go! Move!

Hansgen is right up our arse.

If I can get outta the pit
ahead of him.

She's running hot.
But I think she'll hold.

She's hot.

Hey, Walt. Good to see you.

After I get out of this pit, Shelby.
It's the last time you will.

Don't worry. We've got rear view mirrors.

What happened to that Mustang
he took out?

Don't know yet.

I can push her harder than 6, Shel.
I can feel it.

How come these guys's pit
so much faster than we do?

We got a goddamn
NASCAR crew, that's why.

- No shit?
- No shit.

Goddamn NASCAR crew.

Guys, they've already left!

Hello?

That's my Mollie. Hello.

Hi, luv.

What are you doing?

Just having a...

Mom, ask him about the brakes!

Go to bed. It's 1 AM.

- Ask him.
- Go to bed! Now!

I take it he's not asleep.

I'm sure he smuggled in the radio.

He said to ask how are the brakes.

The brakes. Yes.
Tell him they're working. For now.

Shelby's been acting very strange.

Ford's gonna push up
another team with a GT.

Some sort of a yampy bloody corporate test
or something, I don't know.

Take a rest whenever you get a chance.

Sorry, my luv. What you were saying?

You've only got a few hours.

I can't hear you very well.
I'm sorry, I can't hear ya. Wish me luck.

- Good luck.
- I love you, darling.

After 23 hours here at Daytona,
Walt Hansgen, driving green and white Ford

has a heavy lead
over Ken Miles and Shelby America.

We're locked out, ain't nothing
Miles can do this late in the race.

Engine's hot, we gotta keep it under 6.

All right.

She could come apart.

One way to find out.

I thought we were keeping him under 6000.

Shut up, Don.

We've only minutes of racing
left here in Daytona.

Pitched battle for the
win is being raced

as the #98 Ford makes an
incredible late surge.

- What's happening?
- He's moving up.

Ken Miles does prepare for the win...

White flag! Last lap!

Miles is pushing him. Hard.

That's it.

Ken Miles drives to Walt Hansgen
coming in to the final turn.

What the hell?

Come on!

All right.

Look at this now.

Dammit!

How about that?

Yes. Leo?

Mr. Ford, sir. We won.

We won. Ford won Daytona.

And which team was it, Leo?

Shelby American. Miles driving.

Son of a bitch.

Where the hell is he?
Hang on. Wait a minute.

Has someone lost a bulldog on the beach?

No, no. Come on, Come on.

Someone get this man a drink.

In bed you!
What are you doing?

Dirty stop out.

I was drawing a map,
so I could follow you on Le Mans.

Oh God.

All these buttons.

Dark pen, very accurate.

- Tell me about the track.
- No, I can't, Petey.

Please.

We start at the start line.

You actually start here, because you
have to run to your car at Le Mans.

True enough.

Once your old man
manages to hobble over and pull out.

- And not hit anyone.
- Yes, right.

Accelerate, very hard up to Dunlop bridge.

Road braking away from you.
Then down through the trees to the Esses.

Accelerate up to Terte Rouge,
critical first gear corner.

Fast entry, keep your speed up
for your exit onto Mulsanne.

Long straight-away,
hemmed in by poplars. Top gear.

210 mph, then down to third,
revs up, ribs are your friend.

Get a maximum exit. Let the car run free.
Over the brow

then wham, the Mulsanne Corner.
Accelerate to Arnage.

Over the rise to the White House.
You get that right and...

Your first 3.5 minutes of the 24 hours.

You can’t make every lap perfect.

But I can try.

All right. Off to bed you.

I will wake you before I leave for France.

I promise.

Okay. Goodnight.

Where is that? Hotel Champier?

It's gonna rain again tomorrow.

There's always rain here.

Start will be dry, though.

We'll swap back your tires come rain.

Yeah.

Might be smart to sleep, bulldog.

You too.

I'm not driving.

That's a bloody shame.

Hell, I couldn't have made this team.

I'm gonna walk to first corner.

I figured.

Counting on it.

Hey, Ken.

Charles.

If this was a beauty pageant,
we just lost.

Looks fast. Doesn't it?

Looks aren't everything.

Scarfiotti and Bandini
to start for Ferrari.

You can take him.

4 minutes, Ken.
4 minutes, buddy.

- Live from Le Mans, France.
- Mom! Come on!

All right. I'm coming.

The 24 Hours of Le Mans.

Drivers, please take your places.

- There he is.
- And here they are lined up. Ready to go.

Bloody Joseph!

It's all right, son.

You looked great out there, sir.

What happened to Miles?

Bloody hell!

Bastard!

After Dunlop Bandini,
Ferrari is in first place.

Where's Miles?

- Where the hell is Ken?
- I don't know.

He's coming in.

Let's go! Faster! Come on!
Let's Go! Move it!

I think it's his door.

That's a rough start for the Ford team.

The bloody door won't close!

- All right. All right.
- Maybe it's the heat.

Try that.

Shelby! What the hell is wrong?

- Something's hitting the frame.
- Oh, you're joking, aren't you?

Guys, get out of the way!

Get out of the way! Hold.

Go! Go! Go!

He's back out. Go!

Tremendous games for Ken Miles and Ford...

Come on dad. Come on.

Ken Miles, Ford. A new lap record.

3 minutes and 34 seconds.

Shelby, he's pushing the car too hard.
That's not the plan.

Plan's changed.

Lap is 3.34. Track is 8.36.

Someone tell me the mph!

3:31.9 that's a...

Another lap record.

Let's go. Let's go, boys!

- Tea is ready, Ken.
- Thank you, Chase.

- Happy Birthday, old chap.
- Cheers, mate. Great run.

You're 3 seconds
faster than Gurney.

If you hadn't blown the
start you'd be in the lead.

- Can you keep this up?
- Can the car?

There has been an incident on turn 6.
♪ 18 and ♪26 have collided.

It appears, Ferrari, #20,
Ludovico Scarfiotti

has also left the track.

- All right, watch your head.
- Thank you.

Have a good dinner, sir.

McLaren's pitting.

Mr. Ford is probably going
somewhere nice for dinner.

What do you mean "probably"?

Rain's coming.

All right.

Coming in.

- Engine's running hot, Pops.
- All right.

She's hot, mate. Break on.

Tire.

- We're 220. We're okay.
- All right.

- Let's go.
- Swap that out.

Go! Go!

I need a stopwatch.

Lorenzo Bandini remains
in first place for Ferrari.

Easy, Dan. You're getting boxed in.

He's not backing,
and a full wicked that one.

Easy, Dan.

Bloody hell!

You arsehole!

You wanker!

Face like a sprat arse, don't ya?

Porsche #58 with an unidentified Ford
are run off the track.

Nice stopwatch.

You want one? They're Italian.

Ken Miles in Ford #1,
and Bandini in Ferrari 21

are locked in the battle
against the elements

as they push their cars to the limit.

Passed the White House corner.

Yes, sir? Yes, sir.

Okay, sir.

Hey!

Give me that.

Dumbass.

Mr. Shelby.

Here we go.

Come on, girl. Come on.

Hold it together now.

Come on!

Leader at this moment is Ferrari #21,
being driven by Lorenzo Bandini.

His brakes are shot.
All right. Here we go.

It looks like Ken Miles is bringing
the #1 Ford into the pits very slowly.

Brakes! Nothing! Gone!

All right. Let's go! Let's Go!

I had him! I almost had him!

He's putting another lap on us now.

Now! Now! Faster!

They're doing it! The brakes!

Faster! Faster!

Against the rules.
You can't just change things.

No, no, no.

You show me where it says in your book

that we cannot swap out the system
and then you can disqualify us.

- This is not legal.
- Calm down. Calm down.

This is not legal.

You show me where it
says in that little rule book

where I can't swap out
my upright assembly.

A part is a part.

Be it a brake caliper or a rotor
or an upright assembly

and I can swap out
any damn thing I want to.

We read your damn rule book.

Bandini's pitting! He's pitting!

What a shame. I think he blew the line.

He was trying to keep up with you.

I don't speak Italian, but he ain't happy.

Get me out of here, Pops.
Come on!

Almost set, Ken.

You can still take him,
but you gotta pass him twice.

I got it. Pass him twice.

Ford #1, driven by Ken Miles is back on.
Hot on the heels of Bandini in Ferrari 21.

Not bloody got it off me, are you?
Comes on!

He's off his pace.

He doesn't trust the car yet.

Come on, Ken.
I gave you the new brakes, buddy.

All right.

What'd you come here for?

Let's do it.

See? Come on!

He ain't done it yet.

He needs to take another lap on him.

- He needs to pit soon.
- He needs to catch Bandini first.

All right, you bastard.

Let's do this again.

Come on, girl.

That's my girl! That's my girl!

Oh my God!

Bloody hell!

He did it. We're in the lead.

Are we in the lead?

What about Bandini?

Where's Bandini?

He's done. Finished. Ferrari's over.

McLaren's 4 minutes behind him in a GT.

Should we line them: Ken first,
and 2 and 3. All Fords.

The Deuce is coming.

Ken's up in a half an hour.
Do you want me to wake him?

No, let him sleep.

- Unbelievable.
- Thank you.

- Good job.
- Not quite there yet, but...

There he is.

Brief me, Leo.

We're running one, two, three, Mr. Ford.

- Who's in the lead?
- Him. Miles.

I was thinking, Mr. Ford.

Wouldn't it be great
if all three fords lined up

across the finish line
the exact same time?

They'll line up and came home together.

Ford. Ford. Ford.

I don't think we can actually do that, sir.

Why not?

Miles is laps ahead, Leo.
What would you have him to, slow down?

Yeah.

He thinks it would be
a historic moment for Ford,

it'll make him a great photograph.

Shelby, Miles needs to be
a team player here.

And so do you.

Are you gonna tell him or
do you need me to?

Don't go near my driver. Go on.

- This is what Mr. Ford wants.
- Go on now.

- He expects loyalty.
- Go on.

Guys. Stan, come on.
Let's go.

What'd Beebe want?

It's off the scale, isn't it?

They want you to slow down.

Run that part to me again.

They want you to slow down.

You're outshining the car, Ken.
You're 4 minutes up on McLaren.

The Deuce wants the three fords

across the finish line:
one, two, three, all together.

They're asking that you be a team player.

To make that photograph happen.

A photograph. That's good.

That is good!

Ken, even if you tie for first,
you'll still be first man ever to win

Sebring, Daytona, Le Mans at the same year.

You'll have the triple crown.

I am unable to get you
to follow an order since day one.

Whatever you wanna do
is fine with me.

My choice?

Your choice.

Engine's running at boiling.
The brakes are shot.

How was that?

Taken care of.

The car is yours, Ken.
Ken, the car is yours.

Car is yours, Ken.

It's the Fords that have the cars
to be blaming the top 3 positions.

What the hell is he doing?

Don't answer that!
Get away from it!

Get away from it!

- He's gonna break his own record.
- Shut up!

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Now.

Miles!

Benissimo.

3:30.6.
That's another record.

That's a perfect lap.

And virtually guaranteeing the 1st place

for Shelby American and
their exciting GT Ford.

Ken Miles and Shelby American's Ford #1
just beat his own lap record, 3:30.6.

Bring him in! Right now!
He's outta control!

Bring him in before he wrecks that car
and we don't finish!

Bring him in, Shelby!

Or I will get you banned
from the SCCA and the FIA.

Ken Miles is behind the wheel, Leo.
That's his car to the finish.

Come on, lads. Where are you?

What's he doing?

Mom, why is he slowing down?

The three fords are going to
cross the line together.

Ken Miles slowed down.
He waited for them.

Dad? No.

- It's all right.
- Dad.

It's all right. He's bringing them in.

Lead by Ken Miles...

- He's bringing them all in together.
- He's certainly the leader of this group.

Good for you.

Good for you, Ken.

Look at that!

Well done, Leo.

Explain to me how he's finished first
if he's not won the race?

Because McLaren started from further,
so he came into and he won.

It's not a tie!

Because McLaren started further
back, they're saying.

He's traveled a little bit further.
So, he's won and not Ken.

That's bullshit!

Shel! Hold on!

Where is the tie?
Where is the goddamn tie?

What?

You son of a bitch!

- You knew!
- I didn't, I swear.

Enough!

Nice race, mate. Cograts.

Shel!

They robbed you, Ken.

Here's the clarification. Both the
drivers finished the race in a heat.

McLaren has been ruled the winner
as he started from further back.

Some bullshit technicality.

I never should've asked you.

Selling ties, yeah?

That's what they do.

You promised me the drive,

not the win.

It was a hell of a drive.

She's a hell of a machine.

She's fast.

Could be faster.

The 7 liters sweet.

We still need a lighter chassis.
I was thinking bonded aluminum.

It's a ground up rebuild, but if it works
we can lose a couple of hundred pounds.

What the hell are we doing here?

Let me take the shower,
get a cup of tea.

Have a sandwich or something.

We gonna get the bastards the next year.

Got a bit of fuel left in the tank.

What do you think of those honeycomb
panels. What you were looking for?

I don't know yet.

She looks pretty good.

There's a point at 7000 RPM

where everything fades.

The machine becomes weightless.
Just disappears.

And all that left is a body
moving through space and time.

7000 RPM, that's where you meet it.

You feel it coming.
It creeps up on you, close in your ear,

and asks you a question.
The only question that matters.

"Who are you"?

What do you think?

It's fantastic!
That was really good. Nice and smooth.

No vibration in the box.
She's really strong.

You drove her for less than an hour.
You can't tell shit after an hour.

Hey, Shel.

Hey, Shell. That guy, the one in the hat.
He's ready to close on those two 427's.

His and hers. Full freight.
They flew in from Galveston.

I need you to come outside
for maybe a minute.

And do what?

Be Carroll Shelby.

Tell them a story.
Spin a few magic words.

What does that mean? Magic words?

It means, come
outside, and say hello,

and make them feel good
about their purchase.

They're getting the damn cars.
That's what they get for their money, Phil.

Either they want them or they don’t.
Am I some kind of a lounge act?!

Am I here to talk people into things?!

It's been 6 months, Shel.

Six months.

Sometimes, they don't get
out of the car.

Peter!

Peter, come and take the garbage out!

Mr. Shelby?

Hello, Pete.

I remember that wrench.

My Dad threw it at you.

I believe he did.

Why?

I think I probably
said something to him.

Called him a few names.

That's right.

Do you wanna speak to my Mom?

I did. I came to say hello
and check in on her.

Then, I started thinking that sometimes

the words just are not useful.

Tools are useful 'cause you
can make stuff with 'em,

and you can fix stuff with 'em.

Here.

Thanks.

Your Daddy was a...

He was your friend.

Yes, he was.

Yes, sir.

And he thought
you were just finer than frog fur.

Peter!

I think I've gotta go help my Mom.

What are you doing here then? Go on.

Bye.

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