Last month I discussed
Alex Gibney's documentary The Armstrong Lie on BBC Radio 4's Front
Row, and because I never did get to make my main point, I meant to
write in more detail then. As is common with documentaries, the film
doesn't seem to have spent a lot of time on a lot of cinema screens,
which is a shame, because its an entertaining and involving story,
with a compelling protagonist who can bend the audience just as
surely as he bent the truth.
The important thing
about The Armstrong Lie is its title, which was borrowed from the
French sports newspaper L'Equipe, long-time sponsors of the Tour De
France. It is not The Armstrong Cheat, because the 'lie' isn't the
fact that Armstrong was cheating. The lie is rather the persona Lance
Armstrong built up and sold to the world—the cancer survivor who
won seven consecutive Tours, who used his success to fuel a huge
enterprise centered on his Livestrong cancer charity. He was the
ultimate underdog, an American dominating an event only one other
American had ever won, racing for a team, US Postal Service, with
minimal funding and facilities. It was a lie the world not only
believed, but wanted to believe.
That's because the
history of cycling in general, and the Tour in particular, is
impossible to tell without reference to performance-enhancing drugs.
Going back to the early days, where cyclists took strychnine,
nitroglycerine, and cocaine; drank wine or beer to help kill the
pain. It's an event that tests human endurance beyond its normal
limits, and each time a 'scandal' arises, it is pushed under the
carpet until the next bio-chemical advance comes along.
What's fascinating
about Armstrong, and his association with the notorious Italian Dr.
Michele Ferrari is the way the cyclist's cancer opened the door to
his use of PEDs. Because his muscles had been broken down completely
during his illness, Ferrari was able to bio-engineer a new
Armstrong—and on a level playing field he might well have been just
as unbeatable as he was anyway. This is not to justify his elaborate
cheating, merely to point out that his feeling, which appears quite
honest when he answers Oprah Winfrey's question, that he didn't
'cheat', in the sense of gain an 'unfair advantage' over his
competitors, is true. Look at the men who stood on the podium with
Armstrong in his seven tour wins and you'll find only one who hasn't
either been caught or confessed to cheating.
As Gibney details
Armstrong's history, and as he ruthlessly fights to protect his lie,
you get a convincing picture of a sociopath, a bully, someone who is
aware of his prowress and his appeal, and uses it against his
critics. The pathos of his teammate George Hincapie, who can't help but protect Armstrong even after he's confessed, pointed fingers, and been cast into the metaphorical wilderness, is sad. Indeed, by the time of his comeback it appeared as if
everyone on the tour, and everyone on his teams, had been cheating, except Armstrong
Which makes his decision to come back even more incomprehensible. And the wonder of Gibney's film is that, as he tracks Armstrong on that comeback Tour, he seems to believe Armstrong is racing clean, and as a result we actually find ourselves rooting for him to succeed. Even having seen everything, knowing in retrospect the lies are lies, understanding the unpalatable nature of his personality, we cannot resist hoping Armstrong reaches the podium—it's as much against the odds as his first Tour win. Thus, when he's found to have blood-doped (removed blood before the race, and transfused it back into his body before the final stage) and the elaborate facade of lie starts to fall apart, we find ourselves doubly disappointed.
As is Gibey. In one sense, the Armstrong Lie is the one he fed Gibney, the one an experienced documentary maker found himself believing, and it's Gibney's talent that passes that sense of disappointment on to us. That, in the end, is
the enthralling point of this film. Armstrong's attempt to come back,
to win a Tour at nearly 40, and win it 'clean' is the most incredible
act of hubris, one almost unmatched in sport, and hardly matched
outside it. Armstrong alone among the major racers was still publicly
clean. He could have stayed retired and kept his seven titles, and
every time someone testified they'd helped him or seen him use drugs,
he could have continued to beat them down.
It is the stuff of
classic tragedy—whom the Gods would destroy they make stronger with
Epo, or HGH, or steroids. Believing he could get away with it was
the greatest Armstrong lie of all.
1 comment :
Thoughtful and insightful as always, Michael.
One bit of the Armstrong tale that has been raised but always scuttles away unexamined is the suggestion that the doping caused the cancer in the first place. Thus the Armstrong deception might be of a different order. Even the plucky cancer survivor narrative would be removed from him if it were the case that it was self-inflicted.
Can anyone elucidate further?
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