Time Trial (2017)

Directed by: Finlay Pretsell | 82 minutes | documentary

Zero thoughts. Ignoring the pain threshold. Mile after mile. The landscape glides past in a haze. Soul alone plowing on the almost endless asphalt. The back is low and stiff, to get the greatest possible aerodynamic advantage. The clock is ticking second by second. The battle with yourself is getting harder and harder. Lead in the legs. And yet keep on spinning around incessantly. Time trialling is, it is widely acknowledged, a discipline as tough as hell. A self-imposed punishment, both physical and mental. And that for a few seconds of time savings compared to the competitors.

For former cyclist David Millar, the ordeal against the clock was the most beautiful thing there was. The Briton was a leading time trial specialist in the pro peloton between 1997 and 2014. His career was successful with day victories in the three Grand Tours, multiple places in the world championship (most of which were taken back after a doping confession) and his fight against the use of doping (after a one-year suspension).

In ‘Time Trial’ the spectator travels along with the preparation of what should be Millar’s thirteenth and final Tour de France. The end of his cycling career is approaching. Attractive results have been scarce in recent years. The clock has almost run out. The time trial, once his strongest weapon, has lost a lot of quality. The mental will is still there at times, it is his body that falters. Although he still had a day win in the Tour the year before, there seems to be only a role as a road captain this year. It is his job to guide his teammates safely over the French roads. However, his selection for La Grande Boucle, as the Tour is also known, is by no means a certainty. For one last time, trying to convince his team leaders, he starts a race against the clock.

Millar would do anything to make it to the Tour, the round he dreamed of as a child. However, the preparation races that he rides are difficult for him. That torture is meticulously recorded by director Finlay Pretsell. The camera follows Millar closely. Lying in bed, always waiting for the next leg, in his hotel room. During the team meeting in the team bus. At the start line and at the finish. But even during the race there is no escape for Millar.

Via a camera on the front of his bicycle, the spectator glides with Millar through the landscape, past steep climbs and back down the descent at a speedy pace. A second camera is aimed at his face, in which Millar’s resignation is effectively felt. Furthermore, a series of cameras drive with him. A bike that follows him everywhere in the pack. The support car that is also chasing him. Official match footage tops it off.

In addition, the price noise is also strongly present. We not only see the riders communicating with each other, but, unlike on TV, we also hear it. Communication with the team leaders is also clearly audible. This creates a true-to-life picture of how those involved themselves experience the course. Together with the nice soundscape and smooth editing, this makes ‘Time Trial’ an interesting and well-looking documentary.

The film is at its best when the main character speaks for herself. Millar is outspoken (combatant but often quite cynical) and does not shy away from a difficult subject. The doping chapter of his career is discussed early on, but also the alcohol use during his suspension and the reprehensible racing behavior of his colleagues in his view. Because ‘Time Trial’ can get so close to its subject, the film gains an edge over its many peers. What is so often a dry summary of facts or events becomes personal here. As a result, his involvement in all his suffering is high. An addition to the genre of sports documentaries.