At the Japanese Grand Prix on Sunday that very witty and original film from Peter Weir, the Truman Show, came to mind – newspaper deadlines are less pressing when you are eight hours ahead of UK time.
Jim Carrey, who for the first time in his career was not irritating in a role, played the unwitting star of a 24-hour soap. He is the only person who thinks sunny Seahaven is real.
But the actor I thought of was Ed Harris, as the black-clad Christof, the omniscient executive director, the “televisionary” high up in a dome, controlling all the cameras, unbeknown to Carrey.
Bernie Ecclestone, Formula One’s chief executive, was not in Japan. He wasn’t in Singaporem a week earlier, come to that, even though many expected him to turn up at that febrile, deal-making venue. But everyone was talking about him before Sunday’s race was very old.
If you saw the pictures from Suzuka you might have had the impression that you were watching a production of Hamlet without the prince.
Even by his recent and imperious standards, Lewis Hamilton’s victory was so casually dominant that it was almost chillingly contemptuous; it’s as difficult to keep up with Hamilton as it is a Raymond Chandler plot.
But if he was too quick for his opponents he also appeared to be a little too fast for the TV cameras; in an 88-minute race they showed only six minutes of Hamilton’s car and that of the other Mercedes driver, Nico Rosberg.
In fact, we have seen just 16 minutes of Mercedes cars in the past two races, while they were on screen for a full 30 in the race before, in Italy. The pictures we see on TV are governed not by Sky or the BBC but by Ecclestone’s Formula One Management’s feed.
This immediately triggered a conspiracy theory, of which there are plenty in this most gossipy of sports. Ecclestone – to employ an F1 term – went purple earlier in the season when Mercedes refused to provide engines for Red Bull, whose break from Renault was already reaching the decree nisi stage, and whose future in the sport is in considerable doubt.
At the Belgium Grand Prix in Spa, a month ago, Ecclestone had warned the German car makers about their position. He said: “They would rather not, I think, but they ought to think carefully about not giving one [an engine]. But it didn’t change minds at the top table at Mercedes.
At Suzuka on Sunday I asked Toto Wolff, the team’s head of motorsport, if he thought they were being punished for their intransigence on the engines issue. He rolled his tongue around his mouth for quite a while.
“I don’t think that this is linked,” he said. But he added: “It is always very difficult to please Bernie all the time. I need to find out.” So did the non-executive Niki Lauda. I must talk to Bernie next week,” he said.
I was reminded of the situation in Bahrain in 2012, when Force India’s cars disappeared from the screens. Force India, like a number of teams at that troubled time, had concerns over their safety and as a consequence missed a practice session on the Friday.
When they did turn up for qualifying on Saturday there were no pictures of Paul Di Resta and Nico Hülkenberg, even though Di Resta was a top-10 finisher.
Ecclestone denied the link at the time. “I was busy and didn’t notice Force India were not on,” he said. “I suspect it was to do with the Bahrain laws on no alcohol advertising. They have a whisky company prominently on the car. They should have taken it off. TV could not show that.”
Force India did have the logo from the sponsor Whyte and Mackay on their cars. But all teams had already submitted their liveries, and had them approved. One Force India insider, who did not want to be named, said at the time: “Everyone knows what happened. Bernie is giving Force India a slap on the wrist for missing Friday’s second practice session.”
Ecclestone may be 85 next month but he hasn’t lost his incredible grip on F1. What happened at Suzuka on Sunday hurt not just Mercedes but the entire sport. I just hope all the TV viewers don’t switch off. As they did at the end of The Truman Show.
