Truth or Dare (2018) - full transcript

A harmless game of Truth or Dare among friends turns deadly when someone - or something - begins to punish those who tell a lie or refuse the dare.

PRINCE ROGUE {PRAT3!K}

This is live coverage

of the 1959

24 Hours of Le Mans.

We've reached

the halfway point

and so far witnessed

Aston Martin number 5,

driven by Carroll Shelby,

making great gains

in the last hour.

If he keeps this pace up,

he could have

a chance at the...

He's coming in.

He's coming in.

Let's go, let's go.

- Tires!

- Let's go, let's go.

I know you're tired,

but come on,

let's make this fast.

Move, move, move!

She's running a little hot,

but we're good.

Tires are still gripping.

Fire! The fuel! Fire!

- Shelby, it's you!

- Grab that blanket!

Get off me! Off!

You okay?

Fill the tank!

- Shelby, you just...

- Am I on fire?

Am I on goddamn fire?

- No, you're not on fire.

- Fill the damn tank!

- Fill the tank.

- Fill the tank.

Get it ready!

- Where am I, Eddie?

- Two laps up, my friend.

Car's yours.

Go get 'em.

Aston Martin number 5,

driven by Carroll Shelby,

has maintained his lead

as we're nearing

the final minutes of the race.

Shelby.

The checkered flag is out.

The crowd are on their feet.

Shelby.

...takes the title!

An American wins Le Mans.

Shelby.

Carroll Shelby.

What?

This is something

you can't ignore anymore.

Oh, I take the pills.

The pills work.

An elevated

heart rate, say 130 BPM,

sustained even

for a short period,

you run a critical risk

of cardiac arrest.

- I'll race shorter format then.

- That's not gonna work.

Well, I could race NASCAR.

Formula One.

The valve is shot, Shelby.

This is as serious as it gets.

In my opinion, you're lucky

to be sitting here today.

Well, I feel real lucky.

Luckiest guy on earth.

There's a point

at 7,000 RPM

where everything fades.

The machine

becomes weightless.

Just disappears.

Hey!

Watch it, buddy!

And all that's left

is a body

moving through space and time.

7,000 RPM.

That's where you meet it.

It asks you a question.

The only question

that matters.

"Who are you?"

Now, it's von Trips

in the Ferrari,

coming into the corkscrew.

He's braking late.

Hey, I called you

three times,

and you never answer

the phone.

Oh! He sets a new lap record!

I answer the phone

every time it rings.

- No, sir, you do not.

- Yes, I do.

No, you don't.

A month ago, this car was fun.

Now, it won't even start.

And when it does,

it's, "Boom, boom, boom!"

When I pull out

of the driveway,

the dog has a heart attack.

All I'm asking is for

you to make it like it was.

Yeah, you've coked up

the inlet valves

and the plugs.

Nothing wrong with the car,

just the way

it's being driven.

The way

it's being driven?

Too much fuel,

not enough spark.

That's what's

making her misfire.

You wanna run that

by me in English?

All right, sir.

So...

that there,

that is a sport car.

You have to drive her

like a sport car.

If you drive her

like a school teacher,

she'll clog up. All right?

Try changing up

at 5,000 RPM, not two.

Drive like you mean it.

Hard and tight.

She'll run clean.

Are you telling me

I don't know

how to drive my own car?

No.

But if you ask me,

this isn't your car.

Your car's more a Plymouth

or a Studebaker.

You and me have

a problem, buddy?

I don't have a problem.

I had an MG.

Mine ran just fine.

Screw you, you limey prick.

I want my money back.

Oh, behave. I'd give it to ya.

But you haven't paid

for last month's service yet.

This country,

the customer's always right.

You ever hear that?

Yeah. Yeah.

Utter nonsense.

Now remember,

I advanced the timing,

so a smidge twitchy in first.

Get the revs up.

Good lad. Revs up.

Ta-ra.

Another satisfied customer?

Can I help you, miss?

Wasn't that an MGA 1500?

Ah, you know your cars.

Well, I like them.

I love the sound they make.

The way it goes

right through you.

Right.

That vibration.

Mine's the wood-paneled

Country Squire...

across the street.

A real hot rod.

Oh, yeah?

- Is it fast?

- Very.

Wait a second.

What type of girl are ya?

Type of girl who likes

the smell of wet gasoline.

- Oh.

- Burnt rubber.

Oh, what, are you some kind

of a deviant,

are ya?

Well, only since

I married you.

Hey, Gar,

what's going on?

Something's up.

Hi, Lee.

Listen,

he isn't as sure as you are

about the banks.

I'm not as sure

about this...

How's this going out?

- Don, what's going on?

- I don't know.

Mr. Ford,

welcome to the room.

Good afternoon,

Mr. Ford.

Nice to see you, sir.

Shut it down, Mr. Beebe.

John!

All stop.

Hear that?

That's the sound

of the Ford Motor Company...

out of business.

In 1899, my grandfather,

Henry, by God, Ford...

was walking home

from Edison Illumination

after working a double shift.

He was ruminating.

That morning,

he had himself an idea

that changed the world.

Sixty-five years

and 47 million

automobiles later,

what shall be his legacy?

Getting it in the tail pipe

from a Chevy Impala.

Here's what I want you to do.

Walk home.

While you're walking,

I want you to ruminate.

Man comes to my office

with an idea,

that man keeps his job.

Rest of you

second-best losers...

stay home.

You don't belong at Ford.

Shelby!

I see you.

Up and at 'em, buddy.

- Hey!

- Go away.

Come on. You can do it.

Come on, baby.

8:30 a.m., time to roll.

Let's go.

- Let's go. Let's go, go, go.

- Go away.

It's 8:30 a.m., baby.

Time to roll.

Come on.

Hey, Phil.

Hey, Bob.

Is Shelby here?

Uh, it's touch and go.

Shelby, you're up

bright and early.

Well, early bird gets

the worm, Pops.

All right,

who you worried about?

Well, you got Red Faris

and Bill Rushton.

They're all in 327s.

Corvettes.

What about Bondurant?

Bondurant? Well,

he's still driving...

- Mr. Shelby, can I get an autograph?

- ...for Washburn.

Number 614.

- Thank you so much.

- All right, just relax. All right.

We're gonna eat those Vettes

for breakfast.

We're lighter, we're faster,

and that don't work,

we're nastier.

Hey, Dad,

before the race starts,

take your son over

to the Willow Springs...

Hey, Phil. Hey,

take it easy on us today, bud.

You all right?

Paragraph 15.4,

section 2b

of the SCCA standard

dictates all AF class cars

must have

minimum trunk space

of 20 inches by 12 inches

by six inches.

Your trunk doesn't close.

- Ergo car fails standard.

- Wait, wait, wait. What?

Ergo car is disqualified

from said Class A competition.

No, no, no. Look, look, look.

Can I ask you a question,

all right?

When you were a little boy,

did you think,

"When I grow up, I want to go

"to the fabled

Willow Springs Raceway,

"and I want to enforce

paragraph 15.4, section 2b

"of the SCCA regulations

on luggage capacity"?

- All right, that's it.

- Did you?

I'm ruling you and your team

disqualified from this race.

Ah, well,

if it isn't Lance Reventlow.

- Ah, Shelby.

- How you doing, Lance?

- Pops.

- Hey, Lance.

Allow me to introduce

Dieter Voss.

Runs Brumos Porsche

out of Jacksonville.

Oh, I know all about Mr. Voss.

You're having a hell of a

season with that Abarth, sir.

Seeing results

for your Cobra, too.

- Thank you.

- Your guy Miles is impressive.

- Oh, you following Miles?

- Oh, yes.

Well, he was a USAC

road racing champ in '61.

He won

the Pikes Peak Hill Climb.

He was SCCA C-class champion

three years in a row

in this piece-of-shit MG

he built himself.

We heard he's, uh, difficult.

What, Ken? No, no.

Ken's a puppy dog.

Hey, Lance, tell the man.

You've raced against Ken.

Oh, I've driven more

behind him than against him.

Well, Brumos is looking

for a driver

for our number two car

at Sebring.

- Is that right?

- How is that even possible?

Think your guy Miles

can make the grade?

- Oh, well, Ken...

- Is he, mate? Hey!

Jim! Is he putting

his bloody carryall

- in your trunk?

- What?

Discretionary infraction.

Gentlemen, excuse me a moment.

To be honest,

Ken was born for Sebring.

Nothing in there

about my trunk

and your lovely

little portmanteau.

You're holding

the '62 edition of the SCCA.

And you can stick

this bloody sticker

where the sun don't shine.

Hey. Hey, Bill. What seems

to be the problem, Bill?

The problem is that

Bill here is an arsehole.

- No, he doesn't mean that.

- Oh, yes, he does. Yes, he does.

No, he really does think

that Bill is an arsehole.

- I'm just doing my job here.

- Hang on. Bill, Bill, Bill.

In my experience, there is...

Listen to me.

Something like this, there's

always a middle ground.

All right?

Now, Ken's outta line.

And I'm just doing my job.

I understand you are.

You know how he gets

on a race day.

You know that. All right?

But you're not gonna DQ us

over a trunk.

- What?

- You see that guy?

Got his tail up.

Happy, Bill?

Bill, I'll handle it.

I'll talk to him.

I'll talk to him. You just go

and have a great day.

Hey, folks, feeling hungry?

Head on over

to the snack bar...

Shit.

- Bulldog.

- Huh?

You know who that was

I was just talking to?

Bill.

- Before that.

- No.

It was Dieter Voss.

Who's that?

He runs Porsche, Ken.

It's a little German car company.

Maybe you heard of it.

All right.

He wanted you to drive

at Sebring.

But he'd heard

you were difficult.

I thought we felt the same way

about, uh, Germans.

Do you like losing, Ken?

Excuse me?

Oh, you heard me.

I don't lose.

Without sponsors,

you get no car, Ken.

And last I checked,

the professionals

- all have a car.

- Shel!

You cannot win the SCCA

without one.

If you're not winning,

you are losing.

Don't make me lamp this

at your head.

Did you bring your son

all the way out here

to watch you

get disqualified

or just act like a jackass?

Damn!

Well, that answers that.

Peter...

May I help you,

gentlemen?

Uh, yes,

is Ken Miles here?

No.

We need to speak to Mr. Miles.

I'm his wife.

Welcome to the 1963

Willow Springs 100.

Twelve cars will be competing

in this 40-lap race.

Hey, Ken,

what happened to your shield?

New design.

Well, it looks

like we're about to begin.

The cars have completed

their warm-up lap.

The green flag is out...

and they're approaching

the starting line.

Here we go.

Oh, bloody hell.

Ken Miles has fallen behind.

Learn to drive, you pillock!

So, Shelby, do you miss it?

Hey, Sam.

Guy wins the 24-hour Le Mans,

suddenly retires,

starts selling cars.

It just don't make sense.

Well, unless the rumors

are true, of course.

Oh, what rumors

would those be, Sam?

That Carroll Shelby

quit driving

'cause he lost his nerve.

I'm gonna out-brake you

on the next turn, Bob.

Ha-ha! Nice try, Bob.

Nice move from Ken Miles.

Twenty-two laps remaining,

with Phil Hill

and Dan Gurney in the lead.

It's been an incredible day

here at Willow Springs,

and we've seen

some exciting driving.

With just one lap remaining

in this 40-lap race,

we're coming

to the final stretch.

Dan Gurney has been leading

the pack for most of the...

Whoa!

Number 18, Red Faris,

is off the track.

That leaves Dan Gurney

for the lead

followed by journeyman

Ken Miles.

Now for you, Dan.

And they're

coming around the last turn.

Gurney is still in the lead

with Ken Miles

hot on his heels.

Miles is looking

for an opening.

Not yet.

Come on.

Can Gurney hold

him off in the final straight?

Not yet.

Gurney is blocking him out.

Now.

Miles goes for the shoulder.

Nice move, Ken.

They're wheel to wheel.

Come on.

It's Corvette versus Cobra

for the finish.

Yeah! Ha-ha!

Yeah!

An incredible

finish for Ken Miles.

Didn't see that one coming.

He's difficult but good.

Let's give

everyone a hand

for one heck of a race.

That calls

for a nice cup of tea.

I'll put the kettle on.

Hop in.

I'm

H-A-P-P-Y

I'm H-A-P-P-Y

I know I am, I'm sure I am

I'm H-A-P-P-Y

Pops, frame this.

Hey.

We did it.

What's wrong?

The IRS came.

They've padlocked the garage.

All right, Petey.

A couple of years ago...

you said we'd a nest egg.

Correct.

A couple of years ago.

Correct.

So just to be clear,

we are buggered.

Absolutely.

As in totally?

As in, not a bean,

or a pot in which to piss.

Spares, stock, all gone.

Tools. My tools

are locked up in there.

I'll figure something out.

In 1945...

our soldiers came home.

What was the first thing

that they did?

They had sex.

Seventeen years later,

those babies, they've grown.

And they've got jobs.

They've got licenses.

But they do not wanna drive

the same dull 50s cars

that their parents drove.

You see, kids today,

they want glamour.

They want sex appeal.

They want to go fast.

Gentlemen...

it's time for

the Ford Motor Company

to go racing.

We're already

in racing, Iacocca.

NASCAR?

It's... it's regional, sir.

If you go to the movies,

you open up a magazine,

you don't see good ol' boys

from Winston-Salem.

You see, uh...

Sophia Loren...

Monica Vitti.

James Bond does not drive

a Ford, sir.

That's because

he's a degenerate.

See?

God, I'd like to be

a degenerate.

Um, just give me

one second here, sir.

Is this part of it?

Is this going anywhere,

Iacocca?

Just a second, sir.

All right, all right,

that's enough.

Sir, if you just bear

with me...

Turn it off. Lights.

Lee,

in the last three years,

you and your marketing team...

have presided over the worst

sales slump in US history.

Why exactly should Mr. Ford

listen to you?

Because we've been

thinking wrong.

Ferrari.

Now, they have won four

out of the last five Le Mans.

We need to think like Ferrari.

Ferrari makes

fewer cars

in a year

than we make in a day.

We spend more

on toilet paper

than they do

on their entire output.

You want us

to think like them?

Enzo Ferrari will go down

in history

as the greatest

car manufacturer of all time.

Why?

Is it because he built

the most cars?

No.

It's because

of what his cars mean.

Victory.

Ferrari wins at Le Mans.

People, they, they want

some of that victory.

What if the Ford badge

meant victory?

And meant it

where it counts,

with the first group

of 17-year-olds in history

with money in their pockets?

This would take years.

Decades to test and develop...

a race team capable

of taking out Ferrari.

Ferrari's bankrupt.

Enzo has spent every lira

he's got chasing perfection,

and you know something?

He got there.

But now he's broke.

You don't have

to give up racing

to get a bloody day job, Ken.

I think I do.

Now, I've had my fun.

It's time to put food

on the table...

and grow up.

The garage didn't pay

the bills.

Now it's locked up.

Racing doesn't

pay them either,

and I keep winning.

Yeah, because you're good.

But I can't play the game.

I'm not what they call

a people person.

- You don't say.

- And I'm 45 years old.

Do you really think

I'm gonna change?

I'm never gonna get

the good rise.

I started too late.

Because you fought

in the bloody war.

If you stop,

you'll be bloody insufferable.

Let's quit going round

the Wrekin. It's over.

Let's look on the bright side.

Now I can get fat and old,

trim the roses,

and eat pork pies.

Uh, scusa.

Please, no photos.

Prego.

- Relax, will you?

- You gotta understand.

This is like the Mafia

showing up

to buy the Statue of Liberty.

Kind of

the opposite, actually.

The press gets wind of this,

the shit will hit the Fangio.

Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.

Franco Gozzi, Ferrari.

Journalists?

No, no, Mr. Iacocca, no.

It's our cameras.

Just for history.

Four-liter Colombo engine.

One man assembles

the entire engine

by himself.

Another man assembles

the transmission.

Everything hand-built.

Bellissimo.

Racing Department.

Lee.

That's him.

This merger

between our companies

will form two entities.

Ford-Ferrari,

90 percent owned by Ford,

who controls all production.

Secondly, Ferrari-Ford,

the race team,

90 percent owned by Ferrari.

In order to secure this,

Ford will pay the sum...

Excuse me.

He will need

some time to read this.

Ah. Please.

Ah. Yeah, of course.

I'm looking for the chairman of Fiat!

Agnelli!

I have photographs for you to see.

Pronto.

Pronto.

Yes, I am here.

Do you have something to say?

Enzo maintains full control.

I get the company for 18 million.

All done, thank you.

"Gentlemen,

"only one small question.

It concerns my race program."

"If I wish to race Le Mans,

"and you do not wish

for me to race Le Mans...

"do we or do we not go?"

Look, in that

highly unlikely scenario...

if we just can't agree...

then, yes.

I mean, no.

You are correct.

You do not go.

"My integrity as a constructor,

"as a man, as an Italian,

"is deeply insulted

by your proposal."

"Go back to Michigan."

"Back to your

big, ugly factory."

"Back to your

big, ugly factory,

"making its ugly, little cars."

"Tell your pigheaded boss that

"all his, uh, smug executives

are worthless sons of whores."

Tell him he's not Henry Ford.

He's Henry Ford II.

I'm starving. Let's go eat.

He played us.

Old Man Enzo had no intention

of selling to us.

He used us to up his price...

embarrass our company

and insult your leadership.

It was a bad idea

from the start.

What exactly did he say?

He said Ford makes

ugly little cars,

and we make 'em...

in an ugly factory.

He said our executives

are sons of whores.

About me?

He called you fat, sir.

Pigheaded.

Go on.

He said you're not Henry Ford.

You're Henry Ford II.

I want the best engineers.

The best drivers.

I don't care what it costs.

We're gonna build a race car.

And we're gonna bury

that goddamn greasy wop

100 feet deep

under the finish line

at Le Mans.

And I will be there

to watch it.

Here they come.

Go, go, go, go.

Assholes.

You're really pathetic.

I'm so sorry, girls.

Charlie!

Quit throwing crackers

at the girls all damn day.

God damn it.

Do I gotta deal with this?

It's already taken care of.

Sorry about that.

So, yeah, 289 cubic inch V8.

Far out.

Extensive rework

of AC Ace's front end.

And a stronger rear diff

to handle the torque.

How's she handle

a quarter mile?

Well, now, I'm not saying

you should go drag racing,

but a quarter mile's 13.6.

Yeah.

- Is that good?

- Oh, that's real good.

He sold that same car

three times this week.

- You take cash? Is cash okay?

- Cash is okay.

Yeah, mister, you just bought

yourself one hell of a sport car.

All right.

Tell you what,

I'm gonna... Phil!

I'm gonna pass you off

to my colleague here.

He gonna take care of you.

- Phil, Wyatt.

- Hello, Wyatt.

I'm gonna steal him

for one second.

You take the payment.

Whatever you do,

do not let him take that car.

That's Jeff Blitzer's car.

And Frank Collins'

and Steve McQueen's.

Shit. I forgot about McQueen.

Morning.

Can I help you?

Carroll Shelby?

Maybe.

Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.

What's with the wrench?

That? Oh, long story.

We are just going from strength

to strength here, Lee.

Terrific sales,

we're killing it on the track.

Now, I know I owe Ford

for that last batch

of engines...

Mr. Shelby,

I can assure you

I'm not here for money

that you might owe Ford

for spare parts.

You're not?

No, I'm not.

Okay.

I'm here on behalf

of Mr. Ford, Henry Ford II.

Suppose, um, hypothetically,

that he wanted his company

to win the 24 Hours

of Le Mans.

You're one

of the only Americans

that's ever done it...

so I'm wondering...

what's it take?

Hypothetically?

Hypothetically.

It takes something

money can't buy.

Money can buy speed.

But it isn't about speed, Lee.

It's not just like

those other tracks

where all you do is turn

to the left for four hours.

To win that race,

you need a car

that's light enough to do 200

on the straightaways

but strong enough

to keep that up

for 3,000 miles

without a break.

Not just the best car

y'all have ever made,

but better than anything

that Enzo Ferrari

shows up with that year.

And that just gets you

to the green flag.

That's where your problems

really start.

Is everything okay?

Go away.

So you're saying

it's challenging.

Look, it's not even

a track, Lee.

Le Mans is eight and a half

miles of country road.

It's narrow, ungraded,

it's rough.

There's no camber

on the turns, no rails.

You gotta do that

for 24 hours.

Twenty-four hours, Lee.

That means night.

Half that race is in the dark.

You can't see shit.

Cars coming up on you

out of nowhere.

Drivers stumbling around

the track, pouring blood.

Maybe one of 'em

is your friend. Maybe...

Maybe he's on fire.

You're exhausted,

you're hungry...

can't remember your name,

what country you're in.

And all of a sudden, you realize

you're doing 198 on a straight.

And if anything goes wrong...

you blow a gasket,

a five-cent washer...

that's it, whole thing's over.

Ferrari wins again.

Just like he won last year

and the year before that.

And the year before that.

Yeah.

It's challenging.

So you don't think...

that Ford Motor Company

can build

the greatest race car

the world's ever seen?

You think that

we are incapable

of winning an event like that?

Even if we had

a brilliant partner?

Even if we wrote a, uh,

blank check?

What I'm saying is,

you can't buy a win, Lee.

But maybe you could buy

the guy who gets you a shot.

A new transmission, axles,

shocks all around,

ditch the body and the tires,

you have yourself a contender.

Anything on this beauty

that does work?

The mirrors are outstanding.

I saw that walking up.

So, what, you just passing

on an evening stroll?

Actually, Bulldog,

I have a proposition for you.

You're gonna build a car

to beat Old Man Ferrari...

- Yeah.

- ...with Ford?

With a Ford?

Correct.

And how long did you tell them

that you needed?

Two, three hundred years?

Ninety days.

All right, so let's just look

at this for a moment.

And for argument's sake,

let's just forget about

the whole 90-day thing.

So let's just pretend you've got

all the money in the world

and all the time in the world.

- I like the sound of that.

- All right.

So...

you think that Ford

are gonna let you build

the car that you want...

the way you want it?

The Ford Motor Company?

Those guys?

Have you ever been to Detroit?

They have floors

and floors of lawyers

and millions

of marketing guys,

and they're all gonna want

to meet you.

They're gonna want

to get their photo taken

with the great

Carroll Shelby,

and they're gonna

kiss your ass

and go back

to their lovely offices...

and they're gonna work out

new ways to screw you.

Why? Because

they can't help it.

Because they just want

to please their boss

who wants please his boss

who wants to please his boss.

And they hate themselves

for it.

But deep down...

who they hate even more

are guys like you,

because you're not like them,

because you don't think

like them,

because you're different.

It's coming straight

from the Deuce.

He's serious.

They're gonna put

real money behind it.

I'll bet they are.

You know why?

Because someone,

and I'm not saying who,

someone has told them that

this is actually possible.

Look...

this Sunday at Cloverfield,

they're launching

the new Mustang.

They're gonna announce

the race program.

Just come on by.

Come take a look.

Listen to my speech.

I'm making a speech.

Bring Peter. He'll love it.

All right, Shel.

See you Sunday.

Whoa.

Dad, look at that.

Huh.

The Ford Mustang.

What do you think?

I think

it's a secretary's car.

I like it.

Oh.

Excu... Excuse me.

Would you,

would you not do that?

Oh. Sorry.

Oh, er, is this,

is this your son?

Yes, it is.

Would you ask him to keep

his hands off the paintwork?

No, no, no, Peter.

You're okay.

Who are you?

Leo Beebe, senior executive vice

president, Ford Motor Company.

Ah.

I'm responsible for the launch

of the Mustang.

Ah! At least now we know

who's responsible.

Don't get me wrong, Lenny.

- Leo.

- It looks fantastic.

But inside,

it's a lump of lard

dressed up to fool the public.

My advice is,

lose the inline-six

and that idiotic

three-speed,

shorten the wheelbase,

somehow lose half a ton,

and lower the price.

Dad.

But even then,

I'd still choose

a Chevy Chevelle.

And that's

a fucking terrible car.

How are we doing

up there, Steve?

There's Cloverfield,

Mr. Shelby.

Oh, yeah.

You mind if I take

a shot at the landing?

Uh...

No, no, no. I mean it.

I flew B-29s

out of San Antone in '44.

You're kidding.

- I did.

- Okay.

Carroll, what are you doing?

- Does he know how to fly?

- Carroll.

I had an instructor tell me,

he said...

Don, I would say it's probably

a good time to buckle up.

"...do everybody a favor,

stay on the ground."

That's a true story.

- Oh, no.

- Oh, shit.

- God damn it.

- Here we go.

This is the car

you never expected

from Detroit.

All right. Let's go.

Not staying, Ken?

Ah, it's a bloody pig

in a poke, isn't it?

Oh, here they come now.

- Wait. Are they crashing?

- Oh, Lord.

Who's the pilot?

My guess, Peter...

it's someone we know.

Everything all right

up there?

Oh, no.

- No!

- Hang on.

Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Tell you what,

that's like riding a bike.

Talk about making an entrance.

- Shelby...

- Good grief.

- Shelby!

- All right!

- Over here. Over here!

- Shelby!

How y'all doing?

Can I get

your autograph, please?

Can I get

your autograph, sir?

Carroll,

this is Roy Lunn.

Old Roy here is developing

the prototype over in England.

Oh, hell, I know Roy.

Good to see you, Roy.

Welcome

to the madhouse, Shelby.

Ford wheeled out the entire

executive committee

for this one.

Hold that thought.

Ah.

Hello, Mr. Lindbergh.

You like that?

Hey, Peter, how you doing?

- Mr. Shelby.

- Good to see you.

Are you building a car

that's gonna beat Ferrari?

Well, we're gonna go

to Le Mans, that's for sure.

And if we get across that finish

line first, we're gonna win.

Carroll, allow me

to introduce Leo Beebe,

senior vice president,

Ford Motor.

Oh, sure. Yeah.

A pleasure, Mr. Beebe.

- Thank you for coming.

- Say hello to Ken Miles

- and his son, Peter.

- Yeah.

- We've, um... we met.

- We, uh... we met.

Yeah.

Didn't we?

So, um, well...

I'll take Petey for some pop.

Good luck

with these guys, Shel.

- Bye, Mr. Shelby.

- See you, Pete.

Don't worry, he's gonna stay.

So, you two get a chance

to talk on the plane?

Yeah. Uh...

Carroll, why don't we just

step this way for a second?

Look, it's pro forma.

It's window dressing.

But there's gotta be

a sense of give-and-take

between you and...

you know.

No, I don't.

The group.

The group?

Senior creatives, Carroll.

Just to make sure

everybody's comfortable.

Well, I'm confused, Lee.

'Cause up until

this moment, right now,

I was comfortable.

You should take a look

out there, Carroll. Hmm?

What do you see?

You know what I see?

I see a machine.

I see 10,000 moving parts,

moving hopefully in harmony,

and it's my job to make it so.

It's my job

to guide you through it.

I am here

to help you, Carroll.

But you gotta trust me.

- Excuse me, Lee.

- Carroll...

do not step on that stage

if you don't trust me.

Please welcome

Mr. Carroll Shelby.

Gotta go.

Shelby... Oh.

Shelby.

What'd he say?

He gets the drill.

Thank you.

Well, if my daddy

was here today...

he'd tell me to sit on down

and leave the yakking

to the college boys...

so, like my cars,

I'll make this fast.

When I was 10 years old,

Pops said to me, "Son...

"it's a truly lucky man

"who knows what he wants

to do in this world.

"'Cause that man will

never work a day in his life."

But there are a few,

a precious few,

and, hell, I don't know

if they're lucky or not.

But there are a few people

who find something

they have to do.

Something obsesses 'em.

Something that

if they can't do it,

it's gonna drive them

clean out of their mind.

I'm that guy.

And I know one other man

feels exactly the same.

His name...

His name is Mr. Henry Ford.

Yeah! Whoo!

And together,

we're gonna build

the fastest automobiles

in the world.

And we're gonna make history,

too, at Le Mans.

- Let's go.

- What?

My name is Carroll Shelby.

I build race cars.

No. Whatever it is, no.

No.

Thirty minutes.

Ah, just... I'm spent.

- I wanna have a bath.

- You're gonna wanna see this.

Trust me.

Thirty minutes. I'll have you

back for meatloaf and gravy.

Thirty minutes.

Yeah.

Bloody hell.

Fresh off the plane

from England.

Now, she's still a little

on the rare side of cooked.

Whoa! Come on.

Interesting.

Well?

It's awful.

It's worse than awful.

Yeah, it doesn't track.

You know,

the third gear is too high.

Torque is not reaching

the road.

Steering's loose because

the front end gets light.

And over 140,

it thinks it's a...

Airplane.

Yeah.

It wants to lift off

and fly to Hawaii.

Anything else?

One sec.

You were back late last night.

Yeah.

- Were you working?

- Mmm.

So, you didn't go anyplace?

What?

Well, I'm asking, did you

go anyplace last night?

Mollie.

It's a simple question.

And I answered, didn't I?

What was the answer?

Is something up, love?

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

You're driving very fast.

Oh, am I? Am I?

Yes, you are.

Bloody hell! What are you...

The hell is this?

Well, you tell me,

'cause I don't know.

Right, slow down!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Mollie!

Please slow it down,

all right?

You trying to kill us

or something?

- Well, I thought we love this shit.

- What?

- Bloody hell!

- It's a bit of racing fun. No?

No, no, no.

It's not the same at all.

Well, I think it's thrilling!

All right.

Look, I saw you, all right?

I saw you leaving with Shelby,

and I saw you coming back.

Okay. Shit.

Okay, but slow it...

And then all day you've got

that stupid look on your face.

Mollie, slow down.

You're too close here.

Mollie, put on the brakes

right now...

Not until you tell me

what's going on!

All right.

I went to look at a car.

- With Shelby?

- With Shelby.

- A racing car?

- Sort of.

There's a corner coming.

You'd better hold on.

Oh! Are you gonna lift your

foot off at all through this?

No, 'cause I like

a clean racing line.

Slow down!

Okay.

Shel offered me a job.

Ford has a car that they want

to put up against a Ferrari.

- You told me you were done.

- That's it. Now, slow...

I didn't say yes.

Slow down.

You told me you quit.

- I don't understand.

- Get fat and old, you said.

Fat and old.

- I don't understand.

- That's what you told me.

I don't understand.

Are you upset

because I said I was done

or because

I looked at a race car?

Just don't lie to me, Ken.

Don't make it a secret,

what you want

or what you feel,

just because you think

it's gonna make me happy.

Moll, I don't even know

what I feel.

If you do this...

then he better be

paying you this time.

'Cause I can't work any more

hours and look after Peter.

You know,

the IRS have the garage.

I'm not losing my home.

It's 200 a day.

Plus expenses.

Are you shitting me?

But I haven't decided.

$200 a day?

Are you nuts?

Look at this.

This is ridiculous. Here.

So, Shel, grabbing air.

That's the problem.

Over 90, air's getting in,

not getting out.

It's the nose,

I can feel it in the wheel.

Mr. Miles,

if there's a problem,

the computer will find it.

- All right.

- Charlie,

get some Scotch tape

and a ball of wool.

All right. Good, good, good.

So, now let's just, uh,

get all of this junk out.

Right, Pops?

Yeah, yeah. I concur.

Come on, guys.

What are they doing?

Making your car faster.

There. Right there.

Airflow's getting stuck.

I see it.

Yarn blows straight up.

- Yep.

- The front's lifting.

Damn, he's right.

This car wants to go faster.

I feel it.

Any lighter,

we're getting fragile.

Took 70 pounds out of her

in the last week.

She's outputting max horsepower

from this displacement.

So put in a bigger engine.

Where we gonna put it?

On the roof?

Managed to make it

52 pounds lighter

than the NASCAR unit.

All-new aluminum

cylinder heads...

vibration dampeners,

water pump, smaller valves.

We call it the Beast.

Yeah, I can see why,

but how's it gonna fit

without a redesign

of the engine bed?

Well, it certainly

wasn't easy.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Mr. Shelby.

So, you already put that

in a GT40?

I'm afraid we have.

I'll be damned.

Well, it's heavy, of course.

Problems with the handling,

especially the stopping.

- I can show you the data.

- What problems?

Understeers a little, but...

Can I borrow that?

Just a second. Thank you.

Ken!

Ken, perhaps you want to check

with HQ before you test...

What did he say?

We should ask...

Right.

Oh, yes!

Mr. Shelby,

welcome to Dearborn.

What are you doing

at a test track?

You're gonna get Castrol oil

all over that nice suit.

Ah, I wanted to hear

your thoughts

on a few planning decisions.

You know,

personnel for Le Mans.

Well,

it's a hell of a lineup.

Ken Miles, Phil Hill,

Chris Amon, Bruce McLaren.

Hill's a lock.

Amon, McLaren, too.

We're less sure about Miles.

We like Richie Ginther...

Masten Gregory,

Bob Bondurant.

Well, you're gonna want

the best driver for the car.

Understands the machine.

That's Ken.

Oh! Yes!

More of that, please.

More of that, my girl.

I may not get the finer points

of racing, Mr. Shelby,

but I do know people.

Miles is a...

Well, he's a beatnik.

He dresses like one.

Ford means reliability.

Ken Miles is not a Ford man.

Whoa!

Giddy-up! Giddy-up!

What's the lap record

here, Burt?

1:58.

- 1:50 dead.

- A beatnik?

That man landed a busted tank

on the beach at D-Day

and drove it clean

across Europe to Berlin.

A beatnik?

You know, Lee here asked me

a while back,

"What's the one thing

money can't buy?"

I'll tell you what it is.

A pure racer

behind the wheel of your car.

That's Ken Miles.

Well, be that as it may...

we think he may be too pure.

Carroll, do not lose sight

of the big picture here.

"Too pure"?

What exactly does that mean?

It means

he's all about himself.

ABC puts a microphone

under his nose,

perhaps there's a detail

he dislikes,

millions watching...

do you trust him not to

put out the wrong message?

Well, look, you can get

a clean-cut,

all-American poster boy

and stick him

behind the wheel,

teach him what to say.

Shit, you get Doris Day

to drive the car,

if all you want to do is lose.

So, you don't agree with us

on this issue?

I'm saying you gotta trust me

on this one.

Carroll,

with marketing concerns,

that's just not possible.

Put a Ford-type driver

in a Ford car, Mr. Shelby.

That's the Ford way.

Yet another

championship win for Ferrari

as British driver John Surtees

pilots his Ferrari 312...

Ferrari wins.

It's Surtees'

first win since the '64...

Wedges. We have wedges.

Oh, good, good, good.

Perfect.

- 40?

- Yep.

- Hey, boss.

- Hey, Dan.

- Boss, Ferrari just bagged...

- You got a passport?

What's that?

Sign that. Get a passport.

Get it back to me

by Friday. Frosty.

Boys, I'm going to France.

Phil.

Ken, can I get a word?

Oh.

Can I take this?

Hey.

Do you know why Ford named it

the GT40?

Why they put that "40"

on there?

- No.

- Regulations. All right?

We gotta be 40 inches high

to make the ground

clearance requirements.

No more, no less.

They measure it

before every race.

Problem is,

that with that height,

there's too much drag

under the car, all right?

So, we have a solution.

Wedges. We put wedges

in the suspension...

You're not coming next week.

You're not coming, Ken.

We're taking McLaren,

Chris Amon, Phil Hill...

and Bob Bondurant.

It's Ford's call.

It is their opinion that

you are not a good image,

so you cannot drive

their race car.

And putting aside the fact

that you made that car

whatever the hell it is...

and you're the best man

I got behind the wheel...

I'm gonna reroute

the oil line.

If there's spillage,

it could drip

onto the rear nearside disc.

Ken...

Tell the boys

to watch their pace

come sunrise.

The, uh,

the gearbox will overheat.

Ken, the race

is starting soon.

Want it on the radio?

Not unless you do.

...of the race.

There they are.

The Maserati going

into the Esses,

but it's still

the number 2 car,

driven by Chris Amon.

In third place

is the number 1 Ford

that is driven

by Bruce McLaren.

A tremendously fast start

for the Ford GT.

3:43.4 lap

for car number 2, a Ford.

I think

it's a little bit quick

for this stage of the game.

Little bit quick right now.

Racing too hot.

This could go down

to the last hour or so,

don't you think?

It could,

but the probabilities

for a finish like that

in a 24-hour race

are awfully small.

Another Ford

has come into the pits.

It's being pushed into

the pits by the mechanics.

Head gasket.

The car's not a moon rocket.

Trailing

Bob Bondurant in fourth,

car number 7.

Leading number 20, Ferrari.

Michael Parkes.

So, we have Ford running one,

two, three. How about that?

Too soon. Surely too soon.

One has

to really be respectful

of the mechanism with any...

Here's the big story,

the lead Ford, driven

by Richie Ginther, retired

with gearbox trouble,

and the new leader...

Gearbox. I told them.

Be gentle with it.

...and his

partner Lorenzo Bandini...

...who was one of

the winning drivers last year.

Who's there?

Again, we're back,

speaking to you live

from Le Mans, France.

The 24 Hours of Le Mans,

the Grand Prix of Endurance,

the 33rd renewal.

What's that

you're listening to?

Oh, some race over in France.

Exciting?

I'm not really paying

much attention.

However, Phil,

there was one time in 1933,

when the lead changed hands

three times.

It's not exactly champagne...

...but it's got bubbles.

Thanks, Mollie.

There's a difference

between Ford and Ferrari...

Grace.

Yes, sir.

I will send him right in.

Thank you.

Mr. Shelby,

Mr. Ford will see you now.

- All right.

- Are you still willing

to stake your reputation

on this guy?

This way,

Mr. Shelby.

Mr. Ford.

Gentlemen.

Shelby.

Give me one reason

why I don't fire everyone

associated with

this abomination

starting with you.

Well, sir...

I was thinking

about that very question

as I sat out there

in your lovely waiting room.

As I was sitting there...

I watched that little

red folder right there...

go through four pairs

of hands...

before it got to you.

'Course that doesn't include...

the 22 or so

other Ford employees

who probably poked at it

before it made

its way up to the 19th floor.

All due respect, sir,

you can't win a race

by committee.

You need one man in charge.

Now, the good news,

as I see it,

is that even with

all the extra weight...

we still managed

to put old Mr. Ferrari

exactly where we want him.

Did we?

Oh, yes.

Expand.

Well...

sure, we hadn't...

We haven't worked out

how to corner yet.

Or stay cool.

Or stay on the ground.

And a lot of stuff broke.

In fact, the only thing that

didn't break was the brakes.

Hell, right now,

we don't even know

if our paint job will last

the whole 24 hours.

But our last lap...

we clocked 218 miles an hour

down the Mulsanne Straight.

Now, in all his years

of racing...

old Enzo ain't never seen

anything move that fast.

And now he knows...

without a doubt...

we're faster than he is...

even with the wrong driver...

and all the committees.

And that's what

he's thinking about

while he's sitting

in Modena, Italy...

right now.

That man is scared to death...

that this year you actually

might be smart enough

to start trusting me.

So, yeah...

I'd say you got Ferrari

exactly where you want him.

You're welcome.

Come here.

See that little building

down there?

In World War II...

three out of five US bombers

rolled off that line.

You think

Roosevelt beat Hitler?

Think again.

This isn't the first time

Ford Motor's gone

to war in Europe.

We know how to do more

than push paper.

And there is one man

running this company.

You report to him.

You understand me?

Yes, sir.

Go ahead, Carroll.

Go to war.

Thank you, sir.

You were right.

It's the gearbox.

We ran too hot.

Three out of four

of 'em broke.

The rod blew on the other one.

We're going back, Ken.

They told me I had

"carte blanche" this time.

I looked it up.

It's French for "horseshit."

I know they're gonna squeeze

our nuts any way they can

soon as they work out how.

Well, the, uh...

ice cream's melting.

All right. Hey, Ken.

You want me to apologize?

Mmm.

You want me to beg?

I don't know.

Let's try it out.

Let's, uh, see how that feels.

Ken, I'm sorry.

Sincerely.

Mmm.

Do you have any idea the kind

of shit that I had to eat

just to get four wheels

on that grid?

No, you don't.

'Cause you don't deal

with any of that stuff.

Now knock it off, Ken.

We got work to do,

and this car ain't gonna

build itself.

Okay. All right.

God.

Come here.

- Bloody car salesman.

- Shit!

Come on.

Now you're gonna get it.

Get off me!

Stubborn son of a bitch.

God!

- You just look...

- Right.

- Yeah, now.

- You...

- Ow!

- You all right?

Shit!

Now you're gonna get it.

Come here.

Done.

Mollie, darling.

Yes, love?

Can I get a fizzy pop, please?

Yes, love.

You want one, too, Shelby?

- No. No.

- Uh, yes, please, Mollie.

No. He can get his own.

Just for me, please.

How long has that been?

Oh, it's gotta be three

or four years, at least.

Right. Riverside.

Yeah.

SCCA Divisional Championship.

You broke my finger.

What's that nippy bloody thing

you do under the arm,

that thing?

Yeah. I call that

the Llama Bite.

You name it?

Where'd you learn that?

The Girl Scouts?

- What? You wanna go again?

- Here you go.

You're an angel.

Thank you.

My pleasure.

Right. Well, I'm about to go

to the grocery store.

Anything you think

you'll need?

Um, ice cream.

Ice cream would be good

and, uh...

bread.

Right.

No, I'm good.

Thank you.

Thanks, Moll.

You still take those

for your ticker?

Only 'cause

they're so delicious.

- Up yours.

- Oh, go to hell.

Come on.

Giddy-up. Giddy-up. Giddy-up.

Phil! Here's the one

for you, mate.

Dino, come here.

Well?

There's still lag

when I hit the gas.

Let's get rid of

the vacuum secondaries.

Charlie, get a Holley carb.

We're gonna rebuild

the throttle assembly.

Three weeks to Daytona,

and it still feels

like a bag of squirrels.

Brake heat.

That's a whole different

ball game.

All right, Petey,

let's go for that ride.

What are you doing?

You see that crack?

That's my marker

for turn eight.

What, to slow down?

Uh, brush the brakes

and downshift.

But you'll be going

150 miles an hour.

Yeah.

So how do you see it?

You're going fast,

but as the car speeds up...

everything else slows down.

You don't do that.

You do this. Right?

And then you see everything.

Do you set other markers?

Indeed I do.

Lots of them.

Yeah, 'cause

you can't just push

the car hard

the whole way, right?

That's right. You have

to be kind to the car.

You feel the poor thing

groaning underneath you.

If you're gonna push a piece

of machinery to the limit

and expect it

to hold together,

you have to have some sense

of where that limit is.

Look out there.

Out there is the perfect lap.

No mistakes.

Every gear change,

every corner...

perfect.

You see it?

I think so.

Most people can't.

Most people don't even know

it's out there, but it is.

It's there.

You want some ice cream?

- Yeah.

- All right.

Come on, then.

Do you know

what this marker is?

- What?

- That one.

Pull my finger.

You'll find out.

How much longer

before he comes in?

Uh, well, we change drivers

every four hours,

- so about 10 minutes.

- No, hang on.

You're saying Beebe

is 100 percent in charge now?

Yes,

and he wants Miles gone.

Look, it's personal

with this guy.

And, yes, he has the leverage

to stick it to you.

He and the Deuce

are flying there tomorrow.

He's gonna tell you in person.

Now, all he is hoping for

- is that you lose your cool.

- Uh-huh.

It's time to let this go.

You cannot destroy

the whole thing.

Not for one goddamn guy.

- Sure, I can.

- Well, why?

'Cause while

we're here talking,

he's out there

getting it done.

Oh, shit!

He's got brake fade.

Ease off!

Carroll?

- Get him out!

- Peter!

Go on. Go inside.

Just stay there.

- Get Ken!

- Ken!

Get him out!

There he is!

Ken!

I can see him.

- Ken!

- Come on.

The brakes.

Let's just rip out

the damn engine. All right?

We can't use it

if we can't stop.

You know,

the brakes would last longer

if we slowed down a bit.

Wouldn't that defeat the whole

purpose of the extra power?

You know,

I thought the whole point

was to win the damned race.

Maybe we could design

a new assembly.

Instead of swapping out

the pads in the pits...

swap out

the entire braking system.

Rotors included.

Put in a fresh one.

Wait, wait, wait, Pops,

are we allowed to do that?

I don't know.

I don't read French.

Well, brakes are "a part"

like any other, right?

We are allowed

to change parts.

Yes.

Will we have time to do that?

I don't know yet,

Charlie.

I'm gonna take him home.

All right.

Sort this shit out.

I will.

Have you ever been on fire?

Uh, well, no,

it's never happened to me.

But the suit's

flameproof, see?

It, uh, keeps heat out.

Yeah.

But Lewis-Evans

burned to death

in the Moroccan Grand Prix.

He had a flameproof suit on.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, but, um...

See, he got stuck.

He couldn't breathe.

So, as long as you get out

of the car, you're okay.

Dad got out.

- He sure did.

- Peter!

Bye.

See ya.

- You all right?

- Yeah.

What's wrong with you?

And don't be telling me brakes

or me almost kicking

the bucket out there.

It's something to do

with the suits, isn't it?

It's under control.

What is it?

You know how we talked about

how you do your thing,

I do my thing?

- This is my thing.

- Really, Shel...

Just trust me, Ken.

You got a plan?

Absolutely.

It a good one?

It's high risk.

How high risk?

Extremely high risk.

Well, that's something.

- Glad we had this talk.

- Anytime.

Mr. Ford, this is a surprise.

Apologies for the unannounced

intrusion, Mr. Shelby,

but when a man pays $9 million

for an automobile,

he ought to at least

be able to see it.

Well, that sounds

reasonable enough.

Uh, Shelby, could I have a word?

Sure.

- In private?

- Uh, yeah.

That would be preferable.

All right.

Hey, Phil.

You wanna take care

of Mr. Ford here?

Mr. Ford,

that's Phil Remington.

Of course.

Come up

to my office, Leo.

- Pleasure to meet you, sir.

- Phil.

Give you a little tour

of your car.

We, uh, took out

your 289 small block...

and put in a 427 7-liter.

Uh, firstly,

I want to just clear the air.

I hope

that whatever disagreements

between us

can just be chalked up...

to natural red-bloodedness

in the heat of battle.

Oh, I appreciate that, Leo.

Truly, I do.

It falls on me, Shelby,

to inform you

that I have been appointed

overall executive director

of the racing program.

Now, I do hope that this

won't be a problem between us.

Well, I assure you, Leo,

it will not.

Hey, Carroll...

Carroll!

And what is that top speed

with the, uh, 427?

Well, why don't we take it

for a spin?

- What?

- Yeah, go on, Mr. Ford.

- Hop on in. Go on.

- You want me to...

Just see

what $9 million feels like.

Hey!

God...

Open the door!

Hey, open the door!

Open the door!

Just hold me right there,

and you take my hand.

Oh, God. I sat on my nuts.

We're gonna build the next one

for comfort. Don't you worry.

Open the door.

Sorry, sir,

if you just give me a moment.

- Open the door.

- It's a sticky one.

You ready?

The name on the middle

of that steering wheel

should tell you that I was

born ready, Shelby. Hit it.

Attaboy.

Whoa! It's got a little kick,

doesn't it?

- Open this door.

- Oh, there we go.

Good God, Mr. Beebe.

You okay, sir?

Whoa! Oh, my God!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

Yeah, baby.

Yeah, baby.

It's about right now

the uninitiated

have a tendency

to soil themselves.

Oh, my God! Whoa!

Mr. Ford...

You okay?

Mr. Ford...

you all right?

I had no idea.

I had no idea.

I wish my daddy...

he were alive to see this.

To feel this.

Now, this is not a machine

just anybody can get in

and easily control.

Absolutely not.

I had no idea.

Now, you wanna win Le Mans.

If you really wanna take

first place,

Ken Miles is the man to do it.

Good timing.

Now, he knows this car

because he helped me build it.

Shelby, you know I've already

appointed Leo Beebe

director of racing.

Which is exactly

why I'm talking to you.

Now, you let Ken Miles

race Daytona.

If he wins...

he gets to drive Le Mans.

And if he doesn't?

Ford Motor Company

gets full ownership

of Shelby American.

Lock, stock, and brand.

Forever.

We're in

hour six at the Daytona 24,

and Fords are dominating

the leaderboard.

Shelby American's Ken Miles

holds a narrow lead

over the Holman-Moody Ford

driven by Walt Hansgen.

I don't bloody think so, Walt.

Oh, this race is not just

a test of our cars,

but also our teams.

As you know, we have

a second team out there today.

- Holman-Moody.

- That's right.

Number 95, Hansgen,

blisters through

the front tri-oval

while closing in on Ken Miles.

Walt's pushing her too fast.

He's pushing 7,000 RPM.

Hey, get the EZ sign

out there.

Come on. Move. Do it now.

Every one of these GTs

out there today

is under

my direct supervision.

And of course the supervision

of Henry Ford II.

The drivers,

the speed, the strategy...

even the RPMs

are determined by us.

Ken Miles

is locked in a pitched battle

with Hansgen

as they pass the grandstand.

Hansgen is taking a run

at Miles entering turn one.

Miles is boxed in.

Hansgen slips by

and takes the lead

approaching

the infield chicane.

Cor blimey!

Did you see that?

The caution flag is out.

Still racing.

Hey, we are still racing.

Come on, guys, let's go!

Let's go. Move it.

He's coming in.

Let's go,

let's go, guys. Come on.

Go, tires up.

Here, right here.

Let's go. Let's go. Move it.

- Fuel flying in.

- Breaker bar!

- We're good.

- It all checked out.

- 36. 38.

- Go! Go!

Hansgen is right up our arse.

If I can just get

outta the pit ahead of him...

She's running hot,

but I think she'll hold.

- Fuel's low.

- Bring up the scoop.

She's hot.

Hey there, Walt.

Good to see you.

Yeah, after I get out

of this pit, Shelby,

it's the last time you will.

Oh, don't worry.

We got rearview mirrors.

What happened

to that Mustang he took out?

Don't know yet.

I can push her harder

than six, Shel.

- I can feel it.

- Uh-huh.

Hey, how come these guys pit

so much faster than we do?

They got a goddamn

NASCAR crew, that's why.

- No shit?

- No shit.

Go! Go, come on.

We're clear, we're clear.

Goddamn NASCAR crew.

Go, go, go!

Guys, they've already left.

Hello?

There's my Mollie. Hello.

Hiya, love.

- Mom? Mom?

- What are you doing?

Just having a cuppa.

Mom, ask him about the brakes.

- Go to bed. It's 1:00 a.m.

- Ask him.

Go to bed. Now.

I take it he's not asleep.

I'm sure he smuggled

in a radio.

Yeah.

He said to ask,

"How are the brakes?"

The brakes? Yes. No, no, no.

Tell him

they're working for now.

You know, Shelby's been acting

very strange.

- Ford have gone...

- Ken.

...and put up another team.

- With a GT.

- Ken.

Some sort of yampy,

bloody corporate test

or something.

Just take a rest

whenever you get a chance.

Sorry, my love,

what were you saying?

You've only got a few hours.

I can't hear you very well.

I'm sorry. I can't hear you.

Wish me luck.

- Good luck.

- I love you, darling.

After 23 hours

here at Daytona,

Walt Hansgen driving

the green and white Ford

has a commanding lead

over Ken Miles

and Shelby American

as the rest of the field

has fallen off the pace.

We're locked out.

Ain't nothing Miles can do

this late in the race.

Engine's hot. We gotta keep it

under six thou.

All right.

She could come apart.

One way to find out.

I thought we were keeping him

under 6,000?

Shut up, Don.

With only minutes

of racing left here

at Daytona,

a pitched battle for the lead

is being waged

as the number 98 Ford makes

an incredible late surge.

- What's happening?

- He's moving up.

...entering the front

tri-oval, Ken Miles' desperate bid

for the win

may prove to be...

Come on now!

White flag! Last lap!

Miles is pushing him. Hard.

That's it, girl.

Ken Miles drafts Walt Hansgen

coming into the final turn.

Come on. Come on.

What the hell?

Come on.

All right.

Look at this now.

Damn it!

Yeah!

Ken Miles

takes the checkered flag,

bringing glory

to Shelby American.

How about that?

Reliability, strength...

Yes, Leo.

Mr. Ford, sir, we won.

Uh-huh.

We won! Ford won Daytona.

Hot damn.

And which team was it, Leo?

Shelby American.

Miles driving.

Son of a bitch.

All right.

Where the hell is he?

Hang on, I see him. Hey, wait.

Someone lost a bulldog

on the beach.

No, no. Come on. Come on.

Come on.

Let's go. Let's go.

Someone get this man a drink.

Someone get him a drink.

Oi.

In bed, you.

What are you doing?

Dirty stop out.

I was...

drawing a map, so I could

follow you on Le Mans.

Mmm.

Look at that.

That is spot on.

You are a dab hand,

very accurate.

Tell me about the track.

No, I can't, Petey.

Please.

Well, you start

at the start line.

Yeah, but you

actually start here

because you have to run

to your car at Le Mans.

True enough.

So, once your old man manages

to hobble over...

- and pull out...

- And not hit anyone.

Yes, right.

Then you accelerate very hard

up to Dunlop Bridge...

road banking away from ya

and down through the trees

to the Esses...

and accelerate up

to Tertre Rouge.

Critical first gear corner.

Fast entry.

Keep your speed up

for your exit onto...

Mulsanne.

Long straightaway,

hemmed in by poplars.

Top gear, 210 miles per hour.

And down to third, revs up.

Revs are your friend.

Get a maximum exit.

Let the car run free.

Over the brow...

then wham!

Mulsanne Corner.

Accelerate to Arnage

and then over the rise

to the White House.

You get that right and...

your first three

and a half minutes...

of 24 hours.

But... you can't make

every lap perfect.

But I can try.

All right.

Off to bed, you.

I will... wake you...

before I leave for France.

I promise.

Okay. Good night.

Eh, where's, um...

Where's that?

The Hotel Saint Pierre?

Where?

It's gonna

rain again tomorrow.

There's always rain here.

Start'll be dry though,

so we'll swap out

your tires come rain.

Yeah.

Might be smart

to sleep, Bulldog.

Well, you, too.

I'm not driving.

That's a bloody shame, that.

Oh, hell,

I couldn't make this team.

I'm gonna go walk

the first corner.

I figured.

Counting on it.

Ken.

Chaz.

We'll change

the color of them seats,

shall we, Frost?

Well, if this were

a beauty pageant...

we just lost.

Looks fast, don't it?

Ah, looks aren't everything.

Scarfiotti and Bandini

start for Ferrari.

You can take him.

Four minutes, Ken.

Four minutes, buddy.

Live from Le Mans, France.

Mom! Come on.

All right, coming.

The 24 Hours of Le Mans.

And there are the cars

lined up...

Drivers,

please take your places.

- And there they are...

- There he is.

...lined up, ready to go.

They're lined up

as per their practice times.

Faster cars

are up to our left.

Oh, bloody joking!

Number 10,

a Bizzarrini,

almost loses control.

It's all right.

You looked great

out there, sir.

What happened to Miles?

Bloody hell.

No.

Poxy bastard.

After one lap,

Bandini-Ferrari

is in first place.

Where is Miles?

Where the hell is Ken?

I don't know.

He's coming in.

Oi! He's coming in.

He's coming in.

Let's go.

Frosty, come on.

Let's go. Move it.

I think it's his door.

That's a rough start

for the Ford team so early...

The bloody door won't close!

All right. All right.

We'll take care of it.

Come on, guys.

Damn door!

- Try that.

- This'll do it.

Shelby,

what the hell is wrong?

Something's hitting

the frame.

Oh, you're joking, aren't ya?

Guys, get outta the way.

Just get outta the way.

Hold it.

Go! Go, go, go!

He's back out.

Go.

Ken Miles,

in Shelby American's

Ford number 1, in tenth place.

Tremendous gains

for Ken Miles in Ford number 1.

- Come on, Dad. Come on.

- Passing Porsche 43.

Moving quickly into the

top 20. He's passing them...

Ken Miles, Ford,

has set a new lap record.

Three minutes and 34 seconds.

- Yeah!

- Ken Miles passed it with a time of 3:34.3.

Shelby.

He's pushing the car too hard.

That's not the plan.

Plans change.

Lap is 3:34.

Track is 8.36.

Someone tell me

the miles per hour!

Three minutes, 31.9.

- Another lap record!

- That's an average speed

of 142.01 miles per hour.

Let's go. Let's go, boys.

Tea's ready, Ken.

Oh, thank you, Chaz.

- Happy birthday, old chap!

- Cheers, mate. Great run.

Go, boys.

Move, move, move.

Need a quick body check!

You're three seconds faster

than Gurney.

If you hadn't blown the start,

you'd be in the lead.

Can you keep this up?

Can the car?

There has been

an incident on turn six.

Number 18 and number 26

have collided.

It appears

Ferrari number 20,

Ludovico Scarfiotti,

has also left the track.

- All right, watch your head.

- Here you go.

Thank you.

Have a good dinner, sir.

Oi, McLaren's pitting.

Mr. Ford's probably going

somewhere nice for dinner.

What do you mean "probably"?

Rain's coming.

All right.

Coming in.

Go, tires up!

Get 'em checked out.

Engine's running hot, Pops.

- All right.

- She's hot, mate. Crack on.

- Go.

- Well done, Denny.

Tire.

Dash clear.

Swap.

We're at 220. We're okay.

All right.

Fuel flying in.

Rear tires

coming up the wall!

Get the fuel in there.

Come on. Let's go.

Swap that out.

Front set.

We're good.

- Get it moving!

- Go! Go!

Go, go!

Good job, guys.

Good job.

It was

a good change, fellas.

Hey, I need a stopwatch.

Did you see that? The great American

automobile magnate leaves in a helicopter. Very classy.

Lorenzo Bandini remains

in first place for Ferrari.

Easy, Dan.

You're getting boxed in.

He's not batting

on a full wicket, that one.

Easy, Dan.

Oh, bloody hell!

You arsehole.

Oh, piss off!

You wanker!

A face like a smacked arse,

now, don't ya?

Porsche number 58

with an unidentified Ford

are run off the track

at Arnage.

Go, Ken. Come on, Ken.

Nice stopwatch.

You want one? They're Italian.

Ken Miles

in Ford number 1

and Bandini in Ferrari 21

are locked in a battle

against the elements

as they push their cars

to the limit

past the White House corner.

And now with all that rain,

the track conditions

are wet and slippery

so expect these

very fast laps to suffer.

Yes, sir?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

Okay, sir.

Right away, sir.

Hey!

What the hell are you doing?

Give me that.

Dumbass.

Mr. Shelby...

Here we go.

Come on, girl.

Come on.

Hold it together now.

God!

Bugger! Come on.

The leader at this

moment is Ferrari number 21

being driven

by Lorenzo Bandini.

His brakes are shot.

All right, here we go.

It looks like Ken Miles is

bringing the number 1 Ford.

into the pits very slowly.

He could have a...

Coming in.

Watch yourself, guys.

- Brakes. Nothing. Gone.

- Yeah.

All right. Let's go,

let's go, let's go.

I had him. I almost had him.

Well, he's putting

another lap on us now.

All right. Fit it in.

Do the upper arm first.

Come on, let's go.

Come in now, now. Faster.

Let's go.

Upper arm first.

Watch the brake line

pulling it out.

They're doing it. The brakes.

Now, that's gonna take...

I said

watch the brake line.

Faster!

Faster! Faster!

Coming in.

Watch your back!

Jeff,

you've gotta be faster!

Bleed the brakes, Jeff.

No, no, no.

It's against the rules.

You cannot just change things.

Oh, no, no, no.

You show me where it says

in your book

that we cannot swap out

the system,

and then

you can disqualify us.

Bulldog, back off.

Calm down. Calm down.

This is not legal.

You show me where it says

in that little rule book

where I can't swap out

my upright assembly.

A part is a part.

Be it a brake caliper, a rotor,

or an upright assembly,

and I can swap out

any damn thing I want to.

We read your damn rule book.

Bandini's pitting.

He's pitting.

Oh, what a shame.

I think he blew a line.

Well, he was trying

to keep up with you.

I don't speak Italian,

but he ain't happy.

Get me out of here, Pops.

- Come on!

- All right.

Come on!

Almost there, Ken.

Almost there.

How's it looking, buddy?

One pump, and we're good.

Car's yours, Ken.

All right, listen,

you can still take him,

but you gotta pass him twice.

I get it. Pass him twice.

Ford number 1

driven by Ken Miles

is back out, hot on the heels

of Bandini in Ferrari 21.

Not bloody good enough,

Miles! Come on!

He's off his pace.

He doesn't trust the car yet.

Come on, Ken.

I gave you new brakes, buddy.

All right.

What did you come here for?

Let's do it.

That's it! Come on!

He ain't done it yet.

He needs to take

another lap on him.

He needs to pit soon.

He needs to catch

Bandini first.

All right, you bastard.

Let's do this again.

Come on, now.

That's my girl!

That's my girl!

Oh, my God. Oh, my God!

Bloody hell!

He did it. We're in the lead.

Are we in the lead?

What about Bandini?

Where's Bandini?

They're done. Finished.

Ferrari's over.

McLaren's four minutes

behind him in a GT.

So we're lying Ken first,

and two and three. All Fords.

Ferrari number 21

and driver Bandini

have left the track.

The Deuce is coming.

Ken's up in a half an hour.

Want me to wake him?

Nah, let him sleep.

- Thank you very much. Thank you.

- Unbelievable.

- Hello.

- Mr. Ford.

We're not

quite there yet, but...

You missed a good meal.

There he is. There he is.

Brief me, Leo.

We're running

one, two, three, Mr. Ford.

Who's in the lead?

Hulme, Miles.

You know, I was thinking,

Mr. Ford...

wouldn't it be great

if all three Fords lined up

and crossed the finish line

at the exact same time?

They all lined up

and came home together.

Ford. Ford. Ford.

I don't think we can

actually do that, sir, but...

Why not?

Miles is laps ahead, Leo.

What would you have him do,

slow down?

Yeah.

Mr. Ford wants Miles

to slow down.

He wants all three cars to

cross at the exact same time.

He thinks it'll be

a historic moment for Ford.

It'll make a great photograph.

Shelby, Miles needs to be

a team player here,

and so do you.

You gonna tell him,

or you need me to?

Don't go near my driver.

Go on.

This is what Mr. Ford wants.

Go on now.

- He expects loyalty.

- Go on.

- Guys, let's go. Come on.

- All right, look lively, boys.

Let's go. Frosty.

Yeah, coming.

Let's go. Come on.

What's Beebe want?

Oh.

It's off the scale, innit?

They want you to slow down.

Run that by me again.

They want you to slow down.

You're outshining

their car, Ken.

You're four minutes up

on McLaren.

The Deuce wants

the three Fords

to cross the finish line

one, two, three, all together.

They're asking that

you be a team player...

and make that photograph

happen for 'em.

That photograph.

That's good.

That is good. Mmm.

Ken, even if

you tie for first...

you'd still be the first man

ever to win...

Sebring, Daytona, and Le Mans

in the same year.

You'd have the triple crown.

Look, I ain't get...

I haven't been able to get you

to follow an order

since day one.

Whatever you wanna do

is fine with me.

My choice?

Your choice.

The engine's

running at boiling.

The brakes are shot.

How was that?

Taken care of.

The car's yours, Ken.

Ken, the car's yours.

Ken!

Car's yours, Ken.

It's the Fords

that are the cars to beat,

claiming the top three

positions...

What the hell is he doing?

...led by Ken Miles

in Ford number 1...

If you're not

watching this right now...

Don't answer that.

Get away from it.

Get away from it.

Ken Miles in Ford

number 1 is demonstrating

why he's one of the top drivers

here at Le Mans

with an outstanding display

of skill.

Keep an eye on Ford number 1.

He's gonna break

his own record.

Shut up.

Wait for it.

Wait for it.

Now.

Miles. Miles. Miles.

Miles. Miles. Miles.

Miles. Miles. Miles.

3:30.6.

That's another record.

Another lap record

falls to Ken Miles...

It's a perfect lap.

...breaking his own record

and virtually guaranteeing

first place

for Shelby American

and their exciting GT40.

Ken Miles

in Shelby America's

Ford number 1

just beat his own lap record.

Three minutes

and 30.6 seconds...

Bring him in.

Right now!

He's outta control.

Now, you bring him in

before he wrecks that car

and we don't finish.

Bring him in, Shelby,

or I will get you banned

from the SCCA and the FIA.

Ken Miles is behind

the wheel, Leo.

That's his car to the finish.

H-A-P-P-Y

I'm H-A-P-P-Y

I know I am, I'm sure I am

Woo!

Oh.

Come on, lads, where are ya?

That is quite a sight to see.

What's he doing?

Mum, why is he slowing down?

...the second and third place

Fords to close ranks.

The three Fords are going

to cross the line together.

Ken Miles slowed down.

He waited for them.

- Here are the Fords lined up in a row...

- Dad. No.

- It's all right.

- Dad.

It's all right.

Look, he's bringing them in.

- Led by Ken Miles...

- He's bringing them all in together.

...certainly

the leader of this group

- and owner of the Le Mans lap record...

- Good for you.

- ...set just moments ago.

- Good for you, Ken.

Yeah! Yeah!

Look at that.

- Well done, Leo.

- You too, Don.

Please stand by.

Final results

are under review.

...is explain to me

how he's finished first

and he's not won the race?

Because McLaren

started from further,

so he came in...

he won.

Look, it's not a tie.

No, because McLaren...

Because McLaren started

further back,

he's saying he's traveled

that little bit further,

so he's won and not Ken.

That is bullshit.

That's bullshit.

Shel! Hold on!

- Where's the tie?

- Hey, hey, hey.

Where's the goddamn tie?

What?

- You son of a bitch!

- Hey, Shelby!

- You knew!

- No, I didn't know!

- That's enough! Enough!

- Get off me! Hey!

Bruce.

Nice race, mate. Congrats.

Shel!

They robbed you, Ken.

Here is the clarification.

Though the drivers finished

the race in a heat,

McLaren has been ruled

the winner

as he started

from farther back.

Some bullshit

technicality.

Final results. Ford number 2,

driven by McLaren and Amon,

is the winner.

Ford number 1, driven

by Miles and Hulme,

second place.

In third place,

Bucknum and Hutcherson

in Ford number 5.

I never should've asked you.

Selling cars, huh?

That's what they do.

Well, you promised me

the drive.

Not the win.

It was a hell of a drive.

She's a hell of a machine.

Oh, she's fast.

Could be faster.

The 7 liter's sweet...

but, uh...

we still need

a lighter chassis.

I was thinking

bonded aluminium.

It's a ground-up rebuild,

but if it works...

we can lose

a couple hundred pounds.

Well, what the hell

are we doing here?

Let me take a shower,

get a cup of tea...

ham and cheese cob

or something.

We're gonna get

the bastards next year.

Got a bit of fuel left

in the tank.

What do you think

of those honeycomb panels?

What you were looking for?

Don't know yet.

She looks pretty good.

There's a point

at 7,000 RPM...

where everything fades.

The machine becomes

weightless.

Just disappears.

Yeah!

And all that's left

is a body...

moving through space and time.

7,000 RPM.

That's where you meet it.

You feel it coming.

It creeps up on you,

close in your ear.

Asks you a question.

The only question

that matters.

Get the van!

"Who are you?"

What do you think?

It's fantastic.

Feels really good.

Nice and smooth.

No vibration in the box.

Feels really strong.

You drove it

for less than an hour.

You can't tell shit

after an hour.

Go for seven even,

that'd be 14 all in.

Hey, Shel.

Hey, Shel, that guy,

you know the one in the hat,

he's ready to close

on those two 427s.

His and hers. Full freight.

They, uh, flew in

from Galveston.

Uh-huh.

Uh, I need you to come outside

for maybe a minute.

And do what?

Be Carroll Shelby.

Tell them a story,

spin a few magic words.

What does that mean?

"Magic words"?

It means...

come outside and say hello

and make them feel good

about their purchase.

They're getting the damn cars.

That's what they get

for their money, Phil.

Now, either they want 'em

or they don't.

- Am I some kind of a lounge act?

- No.

Am I here to talk people

into things?

It's been six months, Shel.

Six months.

Sometimes they don't

get out of the car.

Peter!

Peter, come and take

the garbage out.

Mr. Shelby.

Oh, hello, Pete.

I remember that wrench.

My dad threw it at you.

I believe he did.

Why?

Oh.

I think I probably said

something to him.

Called him a few names.

That's right.

Do you wanna speak to my mum?

Well, I did. Uh...

I came to say hello,

check in on her and...

Then I started thinking

that sometimes...

uh, words...

just... ar-are not useful.

Tools are useful 'cause

you can make stuff with 'em

and you can fix stuff

with 'em.

Here.

Thanks.

Your daddy was, uh...

He was your friend.

Yes, he was.

Yes, sir.

And he thought you was

just finer than frog fur.

Peter!

I think I've gotta go

help my mum.

What are you doing here then?

Go on.

Bye.

PRINCE ROGUE {PRAT3!K}