The great paranoia films of the 1970s – All the President’s Men, Parallax View, The Conversation – and the gentle game of cricket would appear to have very little in common, but here we have an hour of film where they seem to merge. The irony is the makers had little intention to make such a look at insider trading and major corruption when they set out to create it, and that in a way is its weakness, as it takes a while to find its focus and target. But when it does, oh boy, it’s powerful, angry stuff.
Kimber and Collins, two cricket writers and fans, set out to make a film about how cricket is losing its soul, and how Test cricket is becoming an anachronism, losing out to the garish, tacky quick fix of Twenty20. Everyone seems to agree it is wrong, so why is it happening? The answer is really the answer to everything, money. It is here the film really finds its feet, as the pair investigate where the money in cricket is going and, more pertinently, who is deciding where it goes?
In short three of the Test playing nations, India, Australia and England, have their hands in the coffers, and are making all the decisions and bullying the other countries into following them. Here the film actually uncovers a coup, they hatch a plot to play each other all the time, pocketing the cash, and as for the rest, well they can scrap over the crumbs. Even more amazing, an independent report clearly claims it’s wrong, possibly even illegal, and the answer from England’s representative Giles Clarke is a mere shrug of the shoulder. It’s safe to say if the film has a pantomime villain it’s Clarke, especially as he was the man who was invited into the cricket establishment Allan Stanford who of course turned out to be a crook of staggering proportions. Clarke’s judgement was clearly swayed by the dollars that arrived on a helicopter, and he does not emerge from this well.
A film like this needs a hero, and the closest we get is in the form of David Becker, a senior member of the ICC who actually resigned because he was so appalled at what he was witnessing behind closed doors every day. We also get the heroic Gideon Haigh, an Australian journalist with a deep understanding of the game who gives perhaps the saddest speech, about how the game is now for TV broadcasts, sponsors, corporate boxes, money men and, bottom of the list, fans, who are treated as monetary units.
Collins and Kimber are genial hosts for this journey, slowly uncovering the story almost despite themselves, but they transmit a genuine sense of anger when the key meeting on the future of cricket is going on in a hotel in Dubai with no press presence. They are the key reminder of what is behind this film, the idea of who does the game belong to. It should be the people, but rarely does it seem like that, and in some ways that’s the film’s appeal, this could apply to anything, the NHS, the railways, they should belong to us, but it seems men in suits with money always have the final say.
Not having a clear idea from the beginning of the film does betray its weaknesses, especially when the hosts fly to Australia to follow their pal Ed Cowan’s debut for Australia. It’s a sideshow, and ends up being a cul de sac as Cowan gets dropped by Australia against England, but at least it is a reminder of why people play this great game, to do their best and try to represent their country.
Overall verdict: Slightly wayward and rambling documentary but which has at its heart a story with a real emotional punch and a righteous sense of anger. Not just for cricket fans either.
Reviewer: Mike Martin