Conor Twomeytook to the streets of Paris in an attempt to recreate the lunacy and myth-making that is the short French film C'était un Rendezvous.
Forget The Italian Job, The French Connection and even Bullitt. The Fast and the Furious? Please . . . The ultimate car-lover's movie isn't some trumped up Hollywood bonanza, but an almost nine-minute-long piece of automotive indulgence called C'était un Rendezvous.
Filmed in 1976 by French director Claude LeLouch, the film is shot on 35mm film in a single take, with no editing or speeding up, to dramatise the action. Legend has it that LeLouch simply strapped a camera to the bonnet of his own Ferrari 275 GTB, and got one of his Formula One chums, either Jacques Laffite or Jacky Ickx, to scream across Paris just after daybreak one August morning.
Because of the position of the camera, we never see the car or the driver. The only clue we have to the identity of either is the sound of the engine and the back of the driver's head when he emerges from the car on the steps of the Sacré Coeur to embrace the young maiden he was in such a rush to rendezvous with.
As if that wasn't enough, rumour also has it that LeLouch was arrested at the film's debut in Cannes because he didn't have permission to use Paris as his own personal racetrack.
None of the streets were closed, and there was nobody redirecting traffic so all the vehicles and pedestrians seen in the film are ordinary Parisians going about their business - totally oblivious to the fact that they were a part of something historic (and rather dangerous).
Over the years, poorly bootlegged VHS copies would surface every now and again and those fortunate enough to see it would relish the chance to tell the uninitiated about this wonderful piece of cinéma verité.
It quickly gained cult status as viewers speculated as to the car's speed, and the insanity of its driver. Only now, two decades late, has the film finally bubbled back to the mainstream, thanks to its posting on the YouTube.com website and its use by Snow Patrol in their video Open Your Eyes. Even today, it's a breathtaking piece of filmmaking. Shame it's all a big fake.
For a start, the car used for the film was a Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL 6.9 which has a three-speed automatic, and not a five-speed manual as the soundtrack alludes to. Those who identified the engine note in the movie as that of LeLouch's 275 GTB were correct, but the sound was dubbed in later to help create the illusion of speed.
The location of the camera is also part of the trickery, as its proximity to the road surface helps make the car look as if it's travelling much faster than it actually is.
It was mounted on a new-for-the-time gyroscopic base that was slung out in front of the car on a special platform just a few inches above the road. Even at the points where speeds were highest, it's not actually moving that quickly relative to the other cars on the road. We tend not to notice that, however, as we transfix on the whizzing white lines and try to keep count of the red lights he broke (18, incidentally).
The driver was none other than LeLouch himself, and not some hired professional as has long been speculated. LeLouch recounts reaching speeds in excess of 200km/h at one point on the Champs-Elysées (no problem for his 230km/h, 286bhp Mercedes) and mentioned touching 180km/h on the Avenue Foch, but this seems highly unlikely, given that the route taken in the film is 10.42km long, and takes the driver just under eight minutes to cover that distance.
His average speed is actually less than 80km/h, which is still relatively insane, given that he's driving right through the heart of Paris, though not as epic an act of lunacy as LeLouch has suggested.
LeLouch was not alone in the car, either. He also had his camera engineers with him for technical support, and he also posted a lookout, his assistant Elie Chouraqui, at the narrow arches that lead from the Louvre to warn him of oncoming traffic.
Chouraqui was supposed to radio him on his walkie-talkie if he needed to slow down, but LeLouch admits that as he approached the arches he realised he had no way of knowing if the walkie-talkies were working or not. Regardless, he pressed on, eager to get to the Parvis de Sacré Coeur before his 10-minute film cartridge ran out.
At one point, near the end, we see the Mercedes begin to turn to the right, then abort the manoeuvre in favour of another route. This was caused by the road being blocked by a delivery truck, forcing LeLouch to take Rocquencourt avenue, adding precious seconds to the film.
That's also the reason he takes to the wrong side of the road on the Place de l'Opéra, and forces an old woman against a wall when he mounts the pavement on Rue Jean Baptise Pigalle. LeLouch has said he was only going to attempt the run once and if it didn't work he'd abandon the idea. What's caught on camera is a desperate all-or-nothing sprint into cinematic history.
To figure out just how mad LeLouch really was, we decided to take a day trip to Paris to retrace the route blazed by the filmmaker 31 years ago. Not only is the route surprisingly easy to find, it's also completely intact. The trees are taller and there are more traffic lights, but otherwise all the landmarks are there and the traffic still moves in the same direction (with the exception of the Place du Carousel in front of the Louvre, which is now a one-way street).
WHAT THE FILM DOESN'T SHOW is the beauty of the drive, the sheer number of historic landmarks he passes, not to mention the convoluted path he took to get from the Peripherique to his waiting beau. If he'd taken the Avenue de Wagran and Boulevard de Courcelles, he'd have got there in half the time.
Naturally, several other lunatics have tried to recreate the film over the years by strapping cameras to their own cars, but none have ever managed to do it in one clean take as LeLouch did, and fewer still have gotten to their destination without getting arrested (the Parisian police are usually waiting for them at the Sacré Coeur).
Having driven the route, I can only conclude that to cover it in eight minutes took a massive amount of skill, bravado and downright luck on LeLouch's part. I can forgive him a few embellishments in his recollection of events given the uniqueness and purity of what he achieved.
And those who abhor its blatant disregard for life and law, can at least take comfort in the knowledge that we will never see its like again. In 2007 Paris, even with the aid of satellite navigation, it took us more than an hour to complete LeLouch's 10km route.