Ford v Ferrari

(overlapping announcements in foreign language)

COMMENTATOR (in English): This is live coverage

of the 195924 Hours of Le Mans.

We've reached the halfway point

and so far witnessed Aston Martin number 5,

driven by Carroll Shelby,

making great gains 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, let's go.

Tires! Let's go, let's go.

I know you're tired, but come on,

let's make this fast.

Move, move, move!

She's running a little hot, but we're good.

Tires are still gripping.

Fire! The fuel! Fire!

- Shelby, it's you! Grab that blanket!

Get off me! Off!

You okay?

Fill the tank!

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

Am I on goddamn fire?

- No, you're not on fire. - Fill the damn tank!

Fill the tank. Fill the tank.

Get it ready!

Where am I, Eddie? - Two laps up, my friend.

Car's yours.

Go get 'em.

Aston Martin number 5,

driven by Carroll Shelby, has maintained his lead

as we're nearing the final minutes of the race.

Shelby.

The checkered flag is out.

The crowd are on their feet.

Shelby. ...takes the title!

An American wins Le Mans.

Shelby.

-(exhales) - Carroll Shelby.

What?

This is something you can't ignore anymore.

Oh, 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.

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

Well, I could race NASCAR. Formula One.

The valve is shot, Shelby.

This is as serious as it gets.

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

Well, I feel real lucky.

Luckiest guy on Earth.

There's a point at 7,000 RPM where everything fades.

-(keys jingling) -(car engine starts)

The machine becomes weightless.

Just disappears.

-(tires screeching) -(horn blaring)

Hey!

Watch it, buddy!

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

7,000 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's braking late. Hey, I called you three times,

and you never answer the phone.

Oh! He sets a new lap record!

I answer the phone every time it rings.

No, sir, you do not. Yes, I do.

No, you don't.

A month ago, this car was fine.

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

it's, "Boom, boom, boom!"

When I pull out of the driveway,

-the dog has a heart attack. -(Ken chuckles)

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

Yeah, you've coked up the inlet valves and the plugs.

Nothing wrong with the car,

just the way it's being driven.

The way it's being driven?

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

You wanna run that by me in English?

All right, sir.

So... (exhales)

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. All right?

Try changing up at 5,000 RPM, not two.

Drive like you mean it. Hard and 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's more a Plymouth or a Studebaker.

You and me have a problem, buddy?

I don't have a problem. I had an MG.

Mine ran just fine.

Screw you, you limey prick.

I want my money back.

Oh, behave. I'd give it to ya.

But you haven't paid for last month's service yet.

This country, the customer's always right.

-(Ken scoffs) - You ever hear of that?

Yeah. Yeah. -(car engine starts)

Utter nonsense.

Now remember, I advanced the timing,

-s0 a smidge twitchy in first. -(tires screeching)

Get the revs up. Good lad. Revs up.

Ta-ra.

Another satisfied customer?

Can I help you, miss?

Wasn't that an MGA 15007?

Ah, you know your cars.

Well, I like them.

I love the sound they make.

The way it goes right through you.

Right.

That vibration.

Mine's the wood-paneled

Country Squire... (clicks tongue)

across the street.

A real hot rod.

Oh, yeah?

- Is it fast? - Very.

Wait a second. What type of girl are ya?

Type of girl who likes the smell of wet gasoline.

Oh. - Burnt rubber.

Oh, what, are you some kind of a deviant, are ya? (chuckles)

Well, only since I married you.

Hey, Gar, what's going on?

Something's up.

Hi, Lee.

Listen, he isn't as sure as you are about the banks.

I'm not as sure about this...

How's this going out?

- Don, what's going on? - I don't know.

Mr. Ford, welcome to the room. Good afternoon, Mr. Ford.

Nice to see you, sir.

Shut it down, Mr. Beebe.

John!

-(alarm buzzing) All stop.

Hear that?

That's the sound of the Ford Motor Company...

out of business.

In 1899, my grandfather, Henry, by 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.

Sixty-five years and 47 million automobiles later,

what shall be his legacy?

Getting it in the tail pipe 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 at Ford.

Shelby! -(knocking at door)

I see you. Up and at 'em, buddy.

- Hey! Go away.

Come on. You can do it.

Come on, baby.

-8:30 a.m., time to roll. -(continues knocking)

Let's go.

- Let's go. Let's go, go, go. - Go away.

It's 8:30 a.m., baby. Time to roll.

Come on.

Hey, Phil.

Hey, Bob.

Is Shelby here?

Uh, it's touch and go.

Shelby, you're up bright and early.

Well, early bird gets the worm, Pops.

3 You know the best things in life are free &

All right, who you worried about?

Well, you got Red Faris and Bill Rushton.

They're all in 327s.

Corvettes. What about Bondurant?

Bondurant? Well, he's still driving...

- Mr. Shelby, can I get an autograph? -...for Washburn.

Number 614.

- Thank you so much. - All right, just relax. All right.

We're gonna eat those Vettes for breakfast.

We're lighter, we're faster,

and that don't work, we're nastier.

COMMENTATOR (on PA): Hey, Dad, before the race starts,

take your son over to the Willow Springs...

Hey, Phil. Hey, take it easy on us today, bud.

You all right?

Paragraph 15.4, section 2b of the SCCA standard