![Chariots of Fire, at the Sheffield Crucible](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/theatre/2024/07/12/TELEMMGLPICT000385319275_17207776097920_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqM1jqde5a-OJSmCYBLBIfDf4Xpit_DMGvdp2n7FDd82k.jpeg?imwidth=680)
Chariots of Fire, Crucible: This timely film adaptation skips frothily along but doesn’t move as it should
Mike Bartlett’s adaptation of the famous film boasts a wealth of theatrical inventiveness, but fails to explore the story’s big themes
![Chariots of Fire, at the Sheffield Crucible](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/theatre/2024/07/12/TELEMMGLPICT000385319275_17207776097920_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqM1jqde5a-OJSmCYBLBIfDf4Xpit_DMGvdp2n7FDd82k.jpeg?imwidth=680)
This seems like smart programming: the classic 1981 movie was based on the true stories of British runners competing in the 1924 Olympics in Paris – a neat 100th anniversary, with this summer’s games returning to the city. It’s also a lap of honour for Sheffield’s departing artistic director Robert Hastie. His tenure has produced several runaway hits, including Life of Pi and Standing at the Sky’s Edge. But I’m not sure this revival of Mike Bartlett’s stodgily faithful adaptation is such a clear winner.
The Oscar-scooping original took some liberties with the real-life story of Harold Abrahams, a Jewish Cambridge student, and Eric Liddell, a Scottish Christian missionary, who triumphed in 1924. Bartlett’s main intervention is an additional female character, Florence – unfortunately, she serves only as a flimsy love interest and helpmeet.
One thing Hastie certainly knows is how to make the most of this venue, and in Ben Stones’s design, the action spreads through the stalls, the Crucible becoming stadium-like. Movement director Ben Wright deserves real credit for rising to the challenge of putting running on stage. There’s smart use of treadmills, slow-mo choreo and a speedy revolve, neon lighting and countdown clocks – a wealth of theatrical solutions that zip and thrill.
This inventiveness is lacking elsewhere, however, in a production that fails to explore the depths of a story of ambition, faith, and principle. Complete with straightforwardly patriotic renditions of I Vow to Thee, My Country and Jerusalem, this rousing tale of determination should easily tap into a swell of sporting pride at this precise moment. But I rarely felt truly moved by these characters. I think that’s because, in dealing with a story largely set among wealthy Cambridge students who like Gilbert & Sullivan, champagne, and talking about which school they went to, the production can’t resist sailing along on a relentlessly chummy, joshing humour – light and frothy, but not exactly setting us up for any serious interrogation of the ruling classes.
The affectionately spoofy tone does, however, highlight the absurdities of upper-class convention: some Cambridge Dons try to persuade Abrahams (a tenacious Adam Bergman) that it’s poor form to take professional coaching. But the silent gatekeeping around class, religion and “Britishness” – prejudice experienced keenly by Abrahams, son of a Lithuanian immigrant – feels brushed over. Similarly, when Liddell (Michael Wallace) refuses to compete on a Sunday on religious grounds, instead of giving a sense of profundity to the dilemma, focus is pulled by the comic harrumphing of Olympic officials and Prince Edward (played by an admittedly very funny Leo Wan).
Quieter moments hit a more thoughtful tone. Talk between Abrahams and fellow competitor Aubrey Montague (Tom Glenister) about what running means to them is delicately done, and Liddell gently lights up when articulating his belief that his talent is God-given: “When I run, I feel his pleasure”. Too often, though, the show feels like just a jolly romp about running: entertaining enough, but never quite getting to the gold – until a sudden blast of Vangelis’s famous theme tune at the end, perhaps.
Until 27 July. sheffieldtheatres.co.uk