This confession of your obsessive viewing of wipeout footage is inspiring another film pitch, something a bit more indie, a kind of Cronenberg-does-Cool Runnings. I’ll forward more notes on casting later, but I definitely think there’s a place there for Jeremy Irons playing twin arthroscopic surgeons.
I should have thought to mention Carole Montillet-Carles this morning; unfortunately, this case of Olympics fever has inflamed my jingoism. The Frenchwoman took a Monday spill that was even worse than Kildow’s, smashing her face to such a swollen pulp that, when she raced yesterday, it was necessary that she do so with her eyes taped open. This is at once extremely heroic and unfathomably demented. Either way, it is food for thought the next time you consider calling in sick.
I checked out the District of Columbia Olympic Committee Web site. What is the significance of its being “sponsored” by Labatt Blue? That the DCOC isn’t associating itself with a domestic beer suggests a perilous lack of political savvy. And also that these people are doing a shoddy job of attempting to dignify their drinking club. Does Washington’s local press have any other angles on the games? Here in New York, we are meant to take a special interest in Strong Island’s Emily Hughes, called up to figure skate after Michelle Kwan dropped out. Here’s a ready-made narrative—out of her sister’s shadow and into the spotlight, or some such chiaroscuro.
Our curlgirls will hit the ice any minute now, also facing off against the Swedes. The evening’s highlight, however, is the Olympic debut of snowboard cross. I don’t yet have a handle on what the sport really is, but I know that it features a type of jump called a Wu Tang, which is cool, and that Nate Holland, an American and a medal favorite, is on record promising lotsa crashes: “I can guarantee you will see some wreckage.” Lucky you.