All language subtitles for Ferrari Race To Immortality 2017 (Ferrari Race To Immortality 2017) (ENGLISH)

They appreciate life far more
than the average man does.

A driver usually gets
killed on a Sunday.

And if he's a close friend of yours,
well, you think, what a stupid sport this

is, and you think
seriously of giving it up.

But on Monday you think, well,
maybe he was just unlucky, maybe I

shouldn't give it up yet,
I'll give it up next year.

But on the Tuesday you start thinking
about, well, there's a race next Sunday,

maybe I'll go.

So on Wednesday
you go to the race.

And you think, well, maybe I shouldn't give
it up yet, maybe I'll give it up next year.

Enzo Ferrari once said, win or die,
you'll be immortal, talking to his drivers.

And of course he's right, because every
time I go to a Grand Prix, those essences

are part of what makes
the sport what it is.

And without drivers
like Michael Hawthorne

and Peter Collins, it
would be all the poorer.

The Ferrari name is very important to
Formula One today because it's a symbol of

the history of the sport that was once
the most dangerous sport on earth and still

trades on those associations
of risk and glamour.

We think these guys
must be daredevils

because Collins and
Hawthorne were daredevils.

I look back on it now and I just
perceive them, the drivers of the time,

as an entirely different breed.

Controlling this powerful beast under your
rear, balancing this car on this tightrope

and taking the best
line through the corner.

This gave you a
sense of ecstasy.

It was an era of great
glamour and great risk.

These men went out to
drive these red cars not

knowing whether they
would come back alive.

Michael Hawthorne described how we
as young men were all willing to jump into

the cooking pot under which
Mr Ferrari kept the fire stoked.

When it came to running drivers,
Ferrari's approach was the more pressure

you put on them and the more unsettled
they feel the faster they will go.

These guys were experiencing the
buzz of competition in cars but they were

subjecting themselves willingly
to all the attached dangers.

There's something about the motor racing
world that, as far as we were concerned,

when catastrophes would
happen, we would kind

of just carry on and
not let it get us down.

And I think that was the
attitude of a lot of people then.

Fear is really a lack of
understanding of what is happening.

Like when you're a child,
you're frightened of the

dark because you don't
understand what's there.

I am not normally
afraid of killing myself.

I am frightened of being killed by
something over which I have no control.

The great thing about Mike Hawthorne and
Peter Collins is that they would do what a

land speed record breaker,
John Cobb, described.

He said it's pretty much
akin to seeing how far you

can lean out of the window
before you finally fall out.

And that's what those boys
with Ferrari did in the 1950s.

They willingly leant out of the
window as far as they possibly could.

And a few of them, and in
retrospect far too many, fell out.

At ten years old, you
attend the first race.

How do you see that moment?

How did you experience it?

With the tremor of a boy
who wanted to be able to

present himself in the
same conditions one day.

Ferrari had a
difficult early life.

His father died when he was quite
young and then his only brother also died,

leaving him more or less alone
when he was still in his teens.

But he was very keen on cars.

So when he had to make
his own way in the world, cars

and motor racing were the
things that attracted him most.

What has played
more in his history?

Passion or the desire
to assert himself?

It was mainly passion.

What do you feel
before the road?

Anxiety?

Fear?

Before the road, you
feel a sum of sensations

that disappear as
the road is given.

The moment you go FH.

Toss and A sick
driving experience?

Enzo Ferrari was a great talent scout,
and after the war, although there were

many good young Italian drivers,
he spotted that there was a bunch of

English drivers who
were singer to do very well.

Well, indeed.

Hawthorne and Collins had
some years between them.

Mike was the older
by two or three years.

He really made his name in the little
Riley that was prepared by his father.

Every time they went to a
race meeting, here was a

young man who expected
to come away with a trophy.

Peter, when he started racing with a 500cc
Cooper that his father, Pat, bought for

him, he was immediately quick
and he was only 17 years old.

Hawthorne and Collins met as rivals on the
racetrack, but eventually, when they both

found themselves in Modena driving for
Ferrari, they became enormous friends.

Mike was a sort of a sports-jacketed,
beer-drinking one of the lads.

Never know how much I love you Never know
how much I care He and Peter Collins were

like a pair of rather
irresponsible schoolboys.

Tremendously fun-loving.

Peter was a life-enhancer.

When he came into the
room, things got jollier,

noisier and altogether
more entertaining.

When I first met Mike,
he was tall, good-looking,

and I thought, ooh, that's
a lovely-looking man.

So I set my heart on him.

He was a great character and a very
flash sort of guy who was a lot of fun.

I think he used motor
racing as a stepping stone to

enjoyment of life, whereas
to me it was the life.

You were either Hawthorne fan or
Moss fan, you couldn't really be both.

Peter in particular, I think,
was very much a boy's own

character of what an exciting
racing driver should be.

The girls loved him and I didn't
see too great an effort on his part.

I think he was the one
who had to fight them off.

Mr Ferrari had always
had a soft spot for the Brits.

Mike went there and the old man was pretty
impressed because here was somebody who

was prepared to put it on the line
and that was the sort of thrusting,

aggressive, young driver
that Mr Ferrari really rated.

When I was with Mike, he just stood out
amongst the others as being very beautiful.

We were intoxicated by the
atmosphere of these wonderful, wild men.

It was fun, it was
like a big family.

Everybody knew everybody,
but it was dangerous.

And wherever you get
danger, you get this thrill.

Hawthorne did very well
in his first spell with Ferrari.

He won a couple of races.

But then when his father
died, and he wanted to drive

sports cars for Jaguar,
he went back to England.

And I think Ferrari was
very disappointed by that.

I'm sure he wanted
to hang on to him.

I think for most of the Grand Prix
drivers, Le Mans was a bit of a bore

because it was a test of
the car, but not the driver.

And I think that Mike and Fangio got
involved in what had become a Grand Prix,

more or less, at the beginning of
the race, taking the boredom out of it.

Drivers are requested to get
to... the places assigned to them.

Stand by.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0.

Lap after lap, Hawthorne

trawled with an exhibition of driving
skill no words can adequately describe.

This battle royal that's been raging in
those opening laps really reached a climax

that was just more cataclysmic
than anybody could possibly imagine.

Everything went normally
in practice, and I was

given the job of starting
doing the first spell.

And I was actually out on the circuit
when this dreadful accident happened.

Coming out of the White
House bends and up

towards the pits, Mike
saw the idea of driving.

He had the opportunity to lap
one more car before he pulled

across to the right and braked
for his scheduled pit stop.

That one last car was the works
Austin Healey, driven by Lance Macklin.

Trouble was, that race was
the first time the new rule had

come in where you had to
change the driver every two hours.

So Mike knew that another lap would
have taken him over the two hours.

In braking hard, Lance
Macklin pulled out...

very sharply to the left to
avoid the back of Mike's Jaguar.

And then suddenly there
was an almighty bang and

Levesque's car came sort
of right over the top of me.

His wheel came right
past my left ear and I could

feel the heat of his exhaust
as he went by so close.

Levesque ran up the sloping tail of the
Austin Healey, flew the best part of 100

yards completely airborne,
and then crashed belly first

onto the top edge of the
safety bank in front of him.

Approaching the pits I saw
a blue flag out so I eased

off and of course then I came
across this absolute chaos.

When Levesque's Mercedes hit the top edge
of the bank, the chassis sheared and the

entire front end assembly
was hurled through the

crowd and it went
through the crowd like this.

Like a torpedo.

And it killed over 80 of them
and it injured over 100 more.

There were even children in the front row
who'd been put there for the best view and

they were right in the firing line of
the wreckage that tore through them.

What most people didn't realise was that
it was on such a grand scale and why the

organisers had decided to
continue the race was to enable

them to get the emergency
vehicles away from the circuit.

I hadn't seen anything with the accident as
such because where I ended up was about

two or three hundred yards
from where the accident was.

I could see the car burning
on the side of the track

but at least I thought it
didn't go in the crowd.

I went into the Austin Healey pit and
Donald Healey told me that Mike had come

in and said to Lance,
can you ever forgive me?

He literally sort of staggered across to
where we were, tears pouring down his face.

He came up to me and put his arm over
my shoulder and he said, I've killed all

these people, I'll never
race again and so on.

A few hours later he was back
in the car and driving again.

Hawthorne and Bueb drove a brilliant
remaining part of the race to win.

And contemporary movie
shows Mike very conflicted in his

facial expressions about
whether to enjoy this victory or not.

But when he did break into a grin,
stills photographers got that photograph

and photographs of a beaming Mike
Hawthorne having just won at Le Mans after

the colossal tragedy that
had marred the race were

used by the press to vilify
Mike around the world.

It did affect him terribly.

He was desperately upset
but it wasn't actually his fault.

I mean, he was exonerated and
he shouldn't have to feel like that.

He had this sort of air of, um,
Delmay care, you know, attitude.

But actually he did care,
he cared an awful lot.

He didn't care, he didn't care.

He didn't care, he didn't care.

He didn't care, he didn't care.

Ferrari in Italy was a towering
figure, even at the time.

It's the single most significant automotive
industry figure of the 20th century.

He was a survivor.

He was a chameleon.

Such a manipulator of men.

He regarded it as a sport
in its own right, I think.

The Scuderia was a stable.

Effectively, in which Ferrari would
pick the best talent that he could find.

The drivers were the public
face of the Scuderia and he

would take the cream of the
talent that was available to him.

Eugenio Castellotti came
from a little town called Lodi.

He got into racing because
it was a big macho deal.

It was what the king
of the kids would do.

Hey, look at me.

And he did have a talent.

He had a shining
talent, in fact.

Musso was from Rome.

He was an Elio De
Angelis at the time.

Whereas Castellotti was a
street fighter from northern Italy.

Luigi Musso was a charismatic
Italian racing driver of the first order.

Let's not mince words here.

The guy was very good.

I think while Castellotti and Musso were
at Ferrari together, there was a certain

amount of shared
responsibility, if you like.

You've got two drivers there who brought
Italy into Grand Prix racing in a way that.

is unimaginable now.

Because the whole
country was behind them.

And both of them gave it 100%.

Fonda Portago was a nobleman and
a sportsman of every possible variety.

And he was a very
attractive personality.

He was a real playboy.

But he was a playboy who
didn't mind getting his hands dirty.

He's a man devoted to sport.

Whether it be skiing, bobsleighing,
water skiing, swimming, fishing,

hunting, whatever it might be.

He was in some ways,
you know, the sort of most

natural Ferrari driver of
the whole of the 1950s.

You know, if you had to design a Ferrari
driver, it would have been Fonda Portago.

And he had the
girlfriends to go with it too.

The Scuderia was led
by Juan Manuel Fangio.

And Castellotti apparently would
hang on Fangio's every word.

Fangio to me is the best
driver in the world, bar none.

He was a great man.

He was a man that whatever he
could do once, he could continue to do.

And it was a beautiful balance in
the rhythm of a man and the vehicle.

Enzo Ferrari was once asked, when a
car crosses the line to take the chequered

flag, how much of it is car,
how much of it is driver?

And he said, 60%
car, 40% driver.

The sad thing was that Ferrari didn't
spend enough time learning how to deal

with the drivers,
individual to individual.

You know, every driver has
a different style of his own.

Horson had an expression of a
man who's fighting on his face.

Peter Collins is always
making faces at the crowds.

Not deliberately, but
I've got to see a picture of

Peter in which he is
making some kind of a face.

Peter Collins had been driving for BRM, and
then he was offered a drive with Ferrari.

Which would have been fantastic.

What an amazing opportunity.

Ferrari set himself up as the spider
in the middle of this extraordinary web,

and he ensured that
everybody had to come to him.

He never went to them.

There is a story that Peter Collins,
when he went there to sign up,

he thought, oh, you know,
this is going to be a big deal.

And in fact, Peter was kept
waiting and waiting and waiting.

And he was on the point of giving it
all up as a bad job, when ultimately,

Mr Ferrari came sailing in.

And everything was
sweetness and light.

It was a sparkling honeymoon
for Peter Collins at Ferrari.

He won in Formula One,
he won in other categories.

Ferrari immediately
recognised his versatility.

And overnight, almost, Peter
Collins became a star, not only in Italy,

at Ferrari, but also on
the world racing stage.

And victory goes to
Britain's Peter Collins and

Mike Hawthorne, with
one second and one zero.

So Peter Collins wins his first
Grand Prix for Scuderia Ferrari.

Peter Collins joins
that exclusive band of

British drivers who
have won a Grande Prix.

It's incredible.

There's no doubt that Peter Collins was
one of the drivers that Enzo Ferrari loved.

He felt a real warmth
to him, which he didn't

feel towards all his
drivers by any means.

Peter Collins became
very friendly and very close

with Dino, Mr Ferrari's,
sadly, terminally ill son.

My husband did a wonderful
job, in a way, of helping

to communicate between
the dying son and Enzo.

Ferrari was very moved
by that, that Collins

should show such
concern for his son.

And Dino's death,
of course, was a...

It was a shattering blow
to him and to his wife.

And I think that brought
him closer to Collins.

By the end of the 1956 season,
Collins has won the Belgian Grand Prix.

He's won the French Grand Prix.

He's in with a shout of
becoming the first British

driver ever to win the FIA
Drivers' World Championship.

There were five Lancia
Ferraris in the race.

There was Fangio, Portago and
Collins, but also Castellotti and Musso.

And a fierce, fierce rivalry.

As you might guess, as soon as the Italian
Grand Prix started, Castellotti and also

Luigi Musso went for it, you know, as
if the race was starting on the last lap.

Fangio's car broke down.

And in those days,
you could share a car

with another driver
and get half the points.

Musso came in and it
was suggested to him he

should get out and
give the car to Fangio.

And Musso had no
interest in that at all.

And that was when Collins, of
course, did his famous selfless act.

Collins is poised to win
the World Championship.

He comes into the pits for his last
pit stop, beckoned to Fangio and said,

you take my car and
I'll give up my chance

for you to win yet another
World Championship.

I can't actually think of another
driver, apart from Peter, to do that.

Because all Peter had
to do was keep going and

he was going to be the
man who would take it.

He respected the superiority
of Fangio as a driver and I think

he felt it would be unfair of
him not to provide the car.

It was a very
chivalrous and respectful

gesture, which Enzo
Ferrari appreciated a lot.

Talking to the press afterwards,
Peter apparently said, I'm young,

I'll get another chance.

I

was in a play at Coconut
Girl Playhouse in Florida and

Peter was on his way from
Argentina back to England.

The sky's above the blue The West Indies,
Cuba, all of Latin America are just beyond

the horizon when you make
Miami your headquarters.

My heart was wrapped up in
clover Oh, and then the spell was

cast Sterling Moss actually
told Peter that I was in Florida.

And so if he was going
through there, why not say hello?

So he gave me a ring and Monday night after
the play we got together and that was it.

Wednesday he
asked me to marry him.

Friday my father came down from
New York to stop this whole nonsense.

He was with the United Nations,
a very dignified human being.

He was a little unhappy
thinking that his daughter was

going to marry a racing driver
that she didn't even know.

And so it worked
out very beautifully.

When did the decline
of an out-of-class start?

The day that sets off
extra-sportive interests.

Enzo Ferrari didn't like his drivers
getting tied down because he didn't like

the idea that they had something else to
live for besides driving his racing cars.

That would take the
edge off their speed.

I think he loved the cars more
than the drivers because the

cars were loyal to him and
the drivers very often weren't.

Mr Ferrari always maintained that his
team number one would be the driver who

performed best last Sunday, which
tended to keep them on their toes.

By setting them to some extent in
competition with each other, by very often

having five drivers for four
cars, it would ensure that they

were performing at their
maximum the whole time for him.

I think there would have been quite a lot
of culture shock for Mike Hawthorne and

Peter Collins going into the Scuderia
Ferrari where they would have been

surrounded by very
competitive Playboy drivers.

I had dinner with Ferrari and we were
talking about racing as we usually do and

all of a sudden he said,
but you know the drivers will

always go to the factory
which produces the fastest cars.

And I was just about to protest my love
to Ferrari when I realised that I would go

somewhere else if they
produced a faster car.

There's no loyalty
to the factory.

There was a coloured, embittered
relationship between Fangio and Mr Ferrari.

And so when Fangio left Ferrari at the end
of that World Championship winning season

to go to the rival Maserati team, the
only person surprised was Mr Ferrari.

When Mike Hawthorne rejoined the
Ferrari team at the start of 1957, they had

Collins, Musso, the Spanish Marquis
von de Portago and they had Castellotti.

It was an incredibly
strong team.

One thing that I've always loved about
Castellotti was how neat and precise he

was in his everyday
life and that's always a

good sign I think to how
you are in a racing car.

And you look at the way he used to pack
his racing suitcase with all his race kit.

Everything was immaculate.

Everything was
perfectly organised.

And I think that showed
another side to Castellotti.

He wasn't just a crazy Italian.

This guy was good.

Castellotti started
racing effectively with the

Ferrari sports car that
his mother bought him.

He grew up as a
gilded child really.

He's another immature fellow that puts a
lot of money in and suddenly decided that

he was going to do what most
wealthy Italians wish they could do.

And that's be a
rear racing driver.

And he's pretty good,
but he's not all that good.

You claim that the drivers
are divided into two categories

the professionals and the
ambitious, that is, the amateurs.

Undoubtedly.

You said that it's not true
that Italians race less than

foreigners and yet those who
win are almost always foreigners.

Evidently Italians
have not had the

technical possibilities
that foreigners have.

Everybody in Italy
was mad about racing.

Even if there was no
television but there was

a radio they were following
what was happening.

I think being an Italian driving in Italy
and obviously having to prove yourself

constantly against
drivers like Collins,

Hawthorne and Moss
was very, very difficult.

In March 1957 Castellotti was
called to do some testing for Ferrari.

At the Modena test track.

I mean it sounds ludicrous
in a way that Modena was

the test track that both
Ferrari and Maserati used.

And why it should have been so desperately
important who actually held the unofficial

lap record at any given time
it's quite difficult to fathom now.

But for whatever reason it was very
important particularly to Enzo Ferrari.

Maserati had just broken
the lap record there.

Mr Ferrari wasn't
happy with that.

He wanted Ferrari to
hold the lap record there.

And either spoken or tacitly
Castellotti was expected to

go out and break the lap
record in the developing new car.

Castellotti was summoned back
from Florence and it wasn't a request,

it was a demand.

And much against his will he
came back to Milan and went

out to Modena got in the car
late afternoon and was killed.

He either suffered a brake failure or the
throttle stuck open and the Ferrari rode

over the kerbs flew into the air and began
to roll and it went into a little concrete

built grandstand and it ended up in
the top row at the back of the grandstand.

And Castellotti very sadly
had been thrown out of the

car and he was rushed to
hospital and it was too late.

There was no saving him.

The thing that troubles us is when
somebody gets killed because the steering

arm broke or because the wheel came off
and that worries us a lot because then we

think what if it happened
on that car and I have to drive

the same type of car it
could very well happen to me.

I don't think Ferrari really was
capable of having relationships.

I think he was a guy that was just driven
to do what he had to do in motor racing.

And that was build cars that were capable
of winning and to find drivers that were

capable of driving them and
what happened, happened.

Collins was in the office with
Enzo Ferrari when the phone rang.

It was with the news that
Castellotti had been killed.

The old man said, oh
no, no, Castellotti, molto.

And then, e la macchina?

And how's the car?

Ferrari, the most frequent
accusation, is a dictator.

What do you think?

If a dictator is to claim from others
the deepest commitment of my work,

evidently they are right.

Ferrari was a man I admired in some ways
and thought he was appalling in others.

I think success is
important for Ferrari.

But success because it showed that
he was one better than the other guy.

Ultimately, it
was about Ferrari.

And Ferrari have been
around now in some form

or another since the
turn of the century almost.

And the reason Ferrari is the biggest
brand in the world today, bigger than

Formula One in motor racing terms,
and the reason people think about Ferrari

the way they do is because it ultimately
is about the car and not the driver.

Mr Ferrari became
absolutely well aware very early

on that his, his favoured
sport was a killer.

What kind of a guy is Ferrari?

Well, Ferrari is a dictator.

If he doesn't like you
he won't sell you a car.

But as far as I'm concerned
he's a wonderful guy.

Why do you race?

Because I want to be
champion in the world.

Life to me is a wonderful thing.

And even if I live to be a hundred I still
won't be able to do a twentieth of all the

things I want to do and read
all the books I want to read.

And I plan to get a hundred.

I want to get the most out of
it but I have no time to lose.

Von Portago I knew quite well because I
saw him I was living in France at the time

and he was one of the people
one saw regularly in Paris.

He could do anything, Portago.

He liked doing dangerous things.

Everybody, no matter
how wealthy they are who

drives aims to become
a professional driver.

All you must have
is respect for the car.

I have enormous respect
for the Grand Prix Ferrari.

And I realize that if I treat it
badly it can very easily kill me.

Every driver believes it
can never happen to him.

I know that it won't
happen to me.

Inside me I know it
won't happen to me.

The Mille Miglia was a
thousand mile race around Italy on

normal roads with millions
of spectators lining the roads.

And it was incredibly dangerous.

Fonda Portago was driving a Ferrari that
was one of the most powerful cars in the

race so he would have
been expected to do well.

It was actually a race
he detested and he didn't

want to do that year
but Ferrari insisted.

He was embroiled at that
time in a sort of mad passionate

affair with this American
actress Linda Christian.

And one of the control
points on the race Portago

came in took on fuel and
he had his card stamped.

One of the mechanics noticed the rear
bodywork was damaged and was actually

folded over and it was
very, very close to the tyre.

They wanted to change the tyre and
Portago, you know, by all accounts just

waved them away no, no,
no, I haven't got time for all that.

Then saw Linda Christian she came over and
there was this passionate kiss having said

there's no time to try
and get the bodywork

away from the tyre and
he got on his way again.

In the closing stages of the
race went at a place called

Guidizzolo almost within
sight and earshot of the finish.

A tyre burst on the car.

The car left the road somersaulted,
hit the bank and disintegrated.

De Portago was killed Edmund
Nelson, his navigator, was also killed.

Nine spectators were
killed five of them were

children which made
it particularly shocking.

He died in the pursuit of a career to
which he had given all his time and energy

and that great competitive spirit
which made him what he was.

That he should be killed on the threshold
of a magnificent racing career is a great

loss to racing and
to the world of people

who still retain an ounce
of romance in them.

By the very nature of their lives
people like Portago do not die in bed.

Their flags remain flying
on the many competitive

fields where they enjoyed
their greatest triumphs.

To the very end.

It was not uncommon in the 1950s
for spectators to be killed but this one,

it was the five children
that made the difference.

For Enzo Ferrari this was a moment
when he had to dig very, very deep.

The Mille Miglia was
never run again that was one

thing but beyond that there
was a manslaughter charge.

There was an air of revulsion
and the Vatican was horrified.

Do you feel responsible
for something with

a moral weight when
these misfortunes occur?

I deeply question myself.

What do you feel
when one of yours falls?

The desire to give up?

Many things.

Too many things.

For example, the amazing
fragility of our lives.

Mike Hawthorne had a
congenital kidney problem.

He would have days where he would be very
pale and sweaty and weak and it showed.

If he had gone public he risked not getting
a competition licence on medical grounds.

That was brushed under the carpet somewhat
carefully by simply saying I have a

chronic condition which
flares up every now and then.

From what I've been
told he used to get angry

with himself if he was
having a weak day.

Or just feeling lousy.

But I think in terms of people who knew
about it there were very, very few people.

He refused to let the government know
because there were questions in the Houses

of Parliament why Mike
Hawthorne wasn't going

into the army doing
his national service.

And he wouldn't let his
doctors tell them why.

He never mentioned his disability but
he certainly suffered from that and I think

there were some days that
he felt it more than others.

It was very exciting
to be around Monaco.

We bought that boat and
decided to make that our home.

Peter had a nice accident when
his car went into the harbour.

Yeah, that was funny.

I think he did it twice.

Someone said you know your
husband just went into the harbour.

I said it's alright he
did that yesterday.

He knows how.

Peter and Mike had a lot
of laughs together so when I

came in on the scene the
three of us clicked right away.

We just had such
a good funny time.

Peter was I think generally
regarded as a nicer person than Mike.

Mike could be terribly rude,
terribly abrupt but with people

he liked and got on with
he was a great, great friend.

Mon Ami Mate was
like a comic strip.

These two characters
go on a trip to Mars.

They look at this
Martian and to be friendly

and saying hello they
said hello Mon Ami Mate.

It amused Peter
and Mike so much.

That they just kept calling
each other Mon Ami Mate.

You know it was all very nice and Mon
Ami Mate and all that sort of thing but I

don't think it was in the
best interest of Ferrari.

Formula One team owners are pretty
incapable of managing teams when you've

got two very fast racing
drivers alongside one another

and we've seen it through
the history of the sport.

Peter Collins and Mike Hawthorn were
basically coming as a package and for the

first time Enzo Ferrari was faced
with this weird situation where if he said

something to Peter it actually
affected Mike Hawthorn and vice versa.

It's sometimes attractive from their
racing you know and they used to be

mucking about you know changing places
instead of concentrating 100% you know and

I think this sense of
competition was sort of slightly

dulled between Mike and
Peter to their detriment.

I mean Roy Salvadori
said to me once God if

I'd been Enzo Ferrari
I'd have fired those two.

They were such close friends.

They were almost happier
when the other won.

Enzo always loved it when his drivers
spurred each other on you know and if

there were casualties well you know It's
been suggested that Hawthorne and Collins

ganged up on Luigi Musso, who was really
the last of the great Italian drivers left.

I think you must always wonder,
sort of, what are they saying?

I don't understand
what they're saying.

That can't have been easy.

He forged this relationship with Fiamma,
who was a beautiful girl, she really was.

He was really carrying the
weight of Italy on his shoulders.

And driving way
beyond his means.

Apart from being the only Italian driver
of consequence in Formula 1, and the only

Italian at Ferrari, he also, by all
accounts, was not a very good businessman.

He'd entered into a business deal
to import American cars into Italy.

These backers got more and more
concerned about their investment.

And Musso suggested that
he'd run up some gambling debts.

He certainly was under some
financial stress at the time.

The pressure had been building.

The debt that Musso was finding himself
in, the enormous rewards that you could

receive if you won the
French Grand Prix at Reims.

That was a race for Musso
to win, no question about it.

On three or four occasions in the opening
laps, trying to match Hawthorne's pace

through the very fast right-hand
curve immediately after the pits.

He'd put two wheels on the verge and
there'd be a big puff of dust and stones.

And some of the photographers would say,
you know, hey, he's on the ragged edge.

Because he got
it slightly wrong.

He was slightly off-line.

Left rear would have just caught
the marbles and then he went off.

And the car somersaulted
and threw him out.

Luigi didn't make it
to the seventh lap.

I thought his car had had
a problem or had stopped.

But no one made a sign.

When there are no
signs, you have to worry.

He was thrown out and suffered
a head injury which took his life.

I was young and I
saw the world fall.

I went towards the
window to throw myself out.

They

concur to a sinful event.

It's never just one cause.

It's the concomitance of different reasons
that lead to the sacrifice of a man.

When Luigi Musso
died, Ferrari was upset.

But one way he showed his regret
was to console Musso's girlfriend.

He set her up in a flower shop.

He spent a lot of time with her.

They had a long relationship.

A driver should have
confidence in his own ability.

But not to be so naive as to
think it can't happen to me.

If you come round a corner and find oil on
the circuit, you can still spin and go off.

You recognise that was
beyond your capabilities.

You either accepted that
or you didn't go motor racing.

Nobody's making you motor race.

It was terrible when you
heard that somebody was killed.

But after all, it was
his decision to race.

They were all aware
in those days that it was

very dangerous and
they still were doing it.

If you ran off the road and there
was a chance of the car overturning,

it was better to be thrown
out than to be trapped in the

cockpit by seatbelts and crushed
underneath it when it landed.

Or worse, burned to
death by the fire that would

almost inevitably
follow a fuel tank burst.

One time, Peter almost said
something and I said, Don't.

We never discussed the
dangers of motor racing.

And I think if we had, it would
have compounded the fear.

And the fear, you stuff away.

You don't want to bring that up.

You know, if you get involved
with a racing driver, you

take the risk that something's
probably going to happen.

Certainly.

Certainly then, because
it was so dangerous.

There was a black humor in motor racing
at that time, you know, to get through.

It was a defense mechanism.

I know that one circuit we
were at, there was an accident.

And the driver got
out and walked away.

And the crowds went, oh.

It's an awful thing
to say, but it's true.

People go for the excitement.

I was doing time
charts all the time.

That may have helped
keep that fear away.

But I had full confidence
that Peter would never die.

It was very easy to ignore any
possibility of things going wrong.

Summer came to Silverstone on Saturday,
July 19th, for the 1958 British Grand

Prix, sixth race of the ten events
counting for the World Championship.

The crowds came too, in their tens of
thousands, lining the three-mile circuit

to watch the major event in
the British calendar, a race

made more dramatic by the
fight for championship honors.

Peter had decided that because our
marriage, that he would drive the few

races that were left
that year, and then retire.

Congratulations, Mike, on Reims.

You don't happen to have a
spare bottle of champagne?

No, I haven't got it yet.

Tell me, what about
the British Grand Prix?

Because we won the last race, people were
saying, well, Ferrari will win this one,

but it's a completely
different type of circuit.

Collins was just absolutely
on it that day, and

he just controlled the
race from start to finish.

And Collins leads Hawthorne by 27 seconds
at a race average of 102.5 miles an hour.

He was supremely quick,
Peter Collins, by then.

And you can't describe his pace any other
way because of what he did at Silverstone.

Peter Collins wins after a magnificent
drive, and Mike Hawthorne is second.

Nobody expected him
to win at Silverstone.

He was on the second
row, and he just took

the lead from the start
and won with abandon.

He drove beautifully that day.

You know, it was a
British crowd, home victory.

One golden boy in Peter
Collins had won it, and the other

golden boy, Mike Hawthorne,
had come in in second place.

I mean, what could be better?

The two weeks between
the British Grand Prix and

Nürburgring, we had just
put money down on a house.

So we were looking
forward to getting back.

The trouble with poor Mr Ferrari, in
a way, was that he'd suffered the very

real personal tragedy
of losing his son, Dino.

He'd transferred some
of his almost paternal

affection and ambition
to Peter Collins.

The old man just feared
that Collins' focus in

life was not going to be
any more on his racing.

I mean, it was a
wonderful time for us

because we were making
all these future plans.

And Peter asked me not
to come to Nürburgring.

He said, we have so much
work to do with this house.

Why don't you just
stay and manage that?

And I said, oh, no, I'm not
going to let you go without me.

When you think of circuits of that time,
of course, there was Spa and it was very

fast, but the Nürburgring
was miles of torture.

There was 180 corners per lap and
you had any corner you liked to name.

The weather could
change dramatically as it

could in the mountains
at any mountain circuit.

It was, I think, the most
challenging circuit we had.

Undulating, narrow,
demanding and unforgiving.

The car was airborne a lot and the
drivers, of course, when they're in a

groove, they're doing it from memory,
they're doing it from muscle memory.

But at the end of the day, there's always
the unexpected around the next corner.

And that was probably the
biggest problem of the Nürburgring.

I thought it was just
another race at Nürburgring.

I didn't really
have a lot of fear.

I just had complete
confidence in Peter.

Phil Hill was leading
the Formula 2 class until

his dampers began to
give up and his drum brakes.

And in their Formula 1 cars,
Hawthorne and Collins would

have been experiencing
exactly the same difficulties.

But they're running up at
the sharp end of the race,

going for the lead and
battling with Tony Brooks.

And Tony was the
smoothest of drivers.

And passed Mike, I think, initially
one lap and then he repassed me.

We swapped places on a couple of
laps and then I got back into the race.

And I was in the lead.

So as these two ailing Ferraris became
capable of only returning slower and

slower lap times, their
drivers had to drive

more and more
desperately to compensate.

I pulled into the straight and, of
course, the first thing to do was to

look behind and see
where Mike or Peter were.

And I looked behind and there
was no sign of either of them.

I was in the pits with
my timekeeping stuff.

Peter didn't come around again.

And I thought, what's happening?

But I focused on that lap chart.

Mike's account, following Collins,
was that he saw the car drift off onto the

grass and thought, well, you silly
arse, you've overcooked that one.

And he expected him
to ride up the bank a bit

and then come back off
the grass onto the road.

And he was a bit
concerned about that.

He was concerned
that he might spin across

the road and might,
himself, might hit him.

But then, to his horror, the
car reared up on that bank.

And he just got a glimpse
of his great friend Peter

Collins being thrown
out, flying through the air.

Mr Hawthorne, you were
driving just behind Peter

Collins, I think, when
this accident occurred.

Just how did it happen?

Well, um...

There was a little dip
and we went into that.

And there was a sharp right-hander after
that and he took it just a little too wide.

He didn't turn into
it soon enough.

And the car hit the
bank and turned over.

How fast was he
travelling, would you say?

How fast were you?

I don't know.

No, no.

So it wasn't until after the
race that I was told Peter had

an accident and he's being
flown to Bonn to the hospital.

And I said, can I go too?

And they said no.

My father, at the United Nations, he
had always been having someone keeping

track of Peter's racing.

So this UN man called my father
and said, Peter's been in an accident.

And then my father
pulled a few strings.

And then he called the hospital.

And when I got into the hospital,
the first thing that happened was I was

told, oh, you have a phone
call at the reception desk.

And I went there.

And my father was on
the phone from New York.

And he told me
that Peter had died.

That just, I thought, was so beautiful
that he would say, I will tell her.

I said, well, I want to see him.

And they took me down.

He was in the basement,
which was cooler, you know.

And I went down there.

And I looked and I saw one foot,
the covering that was over him.

That one foot was out.

And in an instant, I
knew he was dead.

And so that was that.

And we only had
a year and a half.

But it was a great
year and a half.

Michael was desperately upset.

And it was the first
time I ever saw Mike cry.

He was beside himself, really,
because he'd lost his great mate.

Could you say a few
words as a friend of his

about Peter Collins as
a man and as a driver?

Well, as a driver, I mean, he
was definitely one of the best.

As a friend.

Well, he was my friend.

He was my friend.

I'd say I've always
had a lot of fear.

Which ones are
the most frequent?

All of them.

It's very difficult even now, trying to
comprehend what it would have been like.

How Ferrari got through that period and
emerged is a tribute to Enzo's passion for

motor racing and his ability to
turn the page ...and move onwards.

Once you've been through
as much as he had been

through, he was already
like a person in war.

It means losing
drivers and everything.

And he did his best, I
suppose, to act appropriately.

To what degree he really
felt these things is hard to say.

When you think of Peter Collins and his
grace, his sportsmanship, and what he did

at Monza in 1956, it's
constantly Peter Collins

doing these wonderfully
humble gestures.

If you look at Luigi Musso and Eugino
Castellotti, they were divided in their

support, but they brought to Formula
One the Italian element of glory.

And that's something that
was very difficult for both drivers.

Both drivers crashed and
died under that pressure.

And then there was Alfonso de Portago,
who was basically James Dean on wheels,

was great.

The appeal of the drivers in the 1950s
was that they were all so different and yet

united in this willingness
to take enormous risks.

With each death of the driver, the pressure
mounted on Enzo Ferrari and the team.

Team manager Romolo Tavoni
tells us that Mr Ferrari was devastated.

His initial reaction
was to say, we must

give up Grand Prix
racing, this is too much.

But Hawthorne went to see him
and said, I want to finish the season.

I'll drive another car if I've got
to, but I want to drive a Ferrari.

I think he'd lost the
love of racing, but he was

determined to do it
for Peter's sake, really.

Thereafter, for the rest of the
season, each time they finished a race,

Mike would say, well, that's another
bloody race, I don't have to do again.

But whichever way you
slice it, he was in there

with a chance of the
Drivers' World Championship.

In actual fact, he reckoned that Peter
would have won the World Championship,

and I think that made him upset.

Between the Italian Grand
Prix and the Moroccan

Grand Prix, it was
six very tense weeks.

Everybody used to bug Mike, you
know, every time he went into a pub,

they would say to him,
oh, Mike, it's not long now.

So we stayed at home.

The British press were also fired up by
the fact that there was now going to be a

British Formula One World
Champion driver for the very first time.

The Daily Mirror characterised
it as the showdown in the sun.

Michael was very nervous.

He wasn't at all himself,
you know, the sort

of carefree person
that he normally was.

Sometimes he really
had to slow down and rest.

And take it easy.

So I was always aware when he felt like
that, that he had to take care of himself.

You know, before a race, I was amazed that
Mike actually came into my room and stayed

with me for the whole night,
which was most unlike Mike.

He just wanted to be
with somebody, I think.

I think he was very nervous.

All that Moss had to do to win the World
Championship was to beat Hawthorne,

and hopefully set fastest
lap, which scored an

extra point, with Mike
finishing lower than third.

At the end of the race in
Morocco, Phil Hill had done

the decent thing and handed
second place to Hawthorne.

Moss had done
everything he could do.

He'd won, he'd set fastest lap.

But still, when it was all over, Mike
Hawthorne was the World Champion.

Mr Ferrari's reaction to winning the World
Championship after what in so many ways

had been that catastrophic year was
one of immense, overwhelming relief.

Moss ended up one point, just
that solitary point, behind Hawthorne.

So Mr Ferrari knew that they'd
shaded it, but hey, a win's a win.

With just a few laps to go,
Stuart Lewis Evans was running

fourth in the van wall, but
suddenly his engine seized.

The car caught fire.

By the time the brilliant young Englishman
was out, he was already severely burnt.

That affected Mike,
because he hated drivers

being hurt, and he knew
that Stuart was very ill.

He told Enzo after
the race that he wasn't

going to race any more,
and Enzo was furious.

Can you give us any news
of Stuart Lewis Evans?

He's quite badly burnt.

He came back in the aeroplane on
a stretcher, where there's just now.

He was talking and drinking tea,
but he's obviously in quite a lot of pain.

So the flight was over,
and the flight home was

bittersweet in the
truest sense of the word.

On the one hand, Mike Hawthorne
had won his world championship.

On the other, there was Stuart Lewis
Evans' terrible agony from these burns.

He died a few days
later in London.

You look at footage of Mike
having won the world championship.

He doesn't look to be
happy, but then why would he?

It was a year that in many ways Mike
would have wanted to have forgotten,

and yet he was world champion.

He was a very good world champion,
because he looked good, and he spoke well.

So he wore the
mantle extremely well.

I've had eight years of racing.

In eight years I got to the top.

So I decided now's the time.

Thank you all very, very
much indeed for coming along.

Be so patient to listen to me.

And I hope one day
some of you will come

along and join me,
and we'll empty that lot.

Thank you very much.

On the 22nd of January 1959, Mike
had a lunch appointment up in London.

He didn't want to go
to London that day.

He wasn't feeling very well.

I knew that he was
in a lot of pain, and I'd

seen him on the floor
writhing around in agony.

When I came back to England, my
most urgent thing was to see Mike.

We said, okay, we'll
see each other after

that luncheon, and he
would come to my hotel.

As he went along the road, Hogsback Road,
he came up behind a Mercedes-Benz 300SL

Gullwing, and he recognized the
driver immediately as Rob Walker.

I saw a Jaguar come up behind
me, and I saw it was Mike Hawthorne,

and we both accelerated as hard
as we could alongside each other.

Rob was thinking, oh, you know,
this is all getting a bit much for me,

and I'm not really a racing
driver, though I'm keen.

I was so looking forward to it.

I was seeing him.

I wanted very much to have Mike tell me
what it's like to be in a serious accident.

Does your whole life run in
front of you, or what happens?

When I walked into the hotel,
the receptionist knew me.

Peter had always
stayed in that hotel.

He was very aware of things.

The receptionist
didn't look at me.

And I got into the elevator, up to
whatever floor I was on, went into my

room, and knock on the door,
and it was the manager of the hotel.

And he told me
that Mike had died.

And I just... I mean,
it was shattering.

It was shattering.

It was just awful.

Rob managed to get the
back door open, and bent down.

And he told me that,
as he looked at Mike,

Mike's eyes glazed, and
there was a gentle gasp.

And that was it.

I was up in Yorkshire when I heard
the news, and I just didn't believe it.

But when I did
believe it, I had a lot of

friends in that part of
the world, and they...

I think seemed to remember
going for a long walk on the moors.

I think I heard it on the
television at home, and it was...

you know, it was very, very sad,
and, you know, so unnecessary, really.

But it's easy to say that
with the benefit of hindsight.

I think it's that
he had a blackout.

Because he knew
that road backwards.

He knew the cars.

He used to race that car.

And that road, it might have been slippery,
but Mike's been in masses of skids.

So I think he had a
blackout, and he didn't

really know anything
about the accident at all.

That's what I think,
and that's what I hope.

Whichever way you look
at it, Mike's life was tragic.

He only got to savour his world
championship for three months,

and then it all just went away.

People who knew him well said
to me, he would not have made 35.

Well, that's true
or not, I don't know.

But the prognosis
wasn't very good.

His last Christmas
was spent in bed.

He wasn't at all well.

I didn't know how ill he was.

His doctor told me later that
he only had a few years to live.

So the way he went, I suppose,
it was the best way for Mike.

For someone who's gone, she says in a
not-so-Sibylline way, that then time is in

charge of defining
the ability of all of them.

Because it's not the people who make
the judgments that we have to believe in,

but the time that judges.

And it's inexorable.

If you put a racing driver
in a racing car, he's always

going to take it to the limit
and beyond if necessary.

Um... Ferrari certainly
didn't discourage that.

He wanted drivers
who thought like that.

It was phenomenal with
Castellotti and Musso

and Di Portago and
Collins and Hawthorne.

That was an amazing bunch.

An amazing bunch of characters
as well as a bunch of talents.

And to lose those drivers, one
after another, it was a terrible thing.

It couldn't happen now.

And it was probably
unique in sporting history.

Well, they were
rather like fighter pilots.

Or gladiators, I suppose.

They were...

They were stars.

They would have been the first
out of the trench or over the top.

The first off the landing craft.

These guys were...

They were warriors.