In the year of making this screen it all seems hopeless - wall to wall contrived sensation and banality, Queens on the river, Cliff Richard and Gary Barlow on the dais, English football in numbed inertia and ranks of ticket touts preparing us for the Olympics. From the visual evidence and narrative possibilities of 1932, rest assured it has all happened before, though Berlin (and the Torch on Tour) was yet to come. Some things never change - the athlete with baggage, the shuffling gait of the marathon walkers. Notice the fencing judge trying to catch the eyes of the thrusting competitors, the flower of German manhood in smart white shorts while the weightlifter in black trunks fights the curse of ferns in the armpit. Some sports photography presents wholly new imagery such as the delicious anarchy of water polo. Buck up, sweet things. We'll survive it all, I promise. |