You can’t help feeling the brains behind this re-issue are overestimating our affection for a film whose 1982 Oscar glory (it won four, including Best Picture) is now regarded as more of a false dawn than a sign of British cinema emerging from the doldrums.
Honestly, is any one out there really that keen to re-acquaint themselves with this airless saga of university toffs building themselves up to run for God and country at the 1924 Summer Olympics in Paris?
Okay, so Vangelis’ score, with its magnificent, soaring synths, may prompt the odd twinge of nostalgia. For most, though, Hugh Hudson’s movie will represent an era of stultifying middlebrow inoffensiveness that’s as much a historical relic as the medals it lionises.
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