It’s devastating when a popular figure, particularly one who is renowned and hero-worshipped for their domination in their chosen field, is unmasked as a fraud. It’s especially hard news to swallow when the person in question denies cheating allegations again and again, and is seen as a community leader.
This is exactly what happened to 7-time Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong, when he was stripped of his titles in 2012 after finally being brought down for a doping scandal that pretty much plagued him for his entire career. The Program follows Armstrong’s start as a relatively average cyclist to the world’s biggest cheat, as well as the lives of other people around him. Namely his teammates, his manager, and one reporter who loved the sport enough to recognise when its credibility was being damaged.
But let’s start with Armstrong. At the peak of his career, he was unbeatable. Fans the world over revered him as a great cyclist and athlete, and then stood by him as he battled testicular cancer. They again supported him when he began his philanthropic work through Livestrong. If you remember the mid-2000’s you may have even been wearing a yellow rubber bangle that was synonymous with the foundation. Armstrong vehemently denied again and again that he was a doping cheat, but his exclusive interview with Oprah Winfrey pretty much sealed his fate – he cheated all that time. Lance Armstrong went from hero to zero, and fans were shocked.
The Program does not paint Armstrong in a good light, not that there’s anything remotely good about cheating, but the film would have packed more of a punch if it highlighted the reasons behind Armstrong’s need to cheat. Ben Foster (Kill Your Darlings) does a great job playing the once-untouchable Armstrong. He’s cocky and arrogant, so sure that he won’t get caught and adamant that anyone standing in his way will be brought down. It’s a great insight into the world of competitive cycling, but Foster’s Armstrong might not be relatable to some because we’re left wondering why, aside from wanting to win, would he have gone to such lengths to cheat. He’s almost villainous, not really depicted as a deeply flawed human being (which, naturally, he is) but as more of the Man You Love to Hate. But there has to be more to it than that.
In contrast, reporter David Walsh (played by Chris O’Dowd) in the film is seen reeling from further investigations that the great Lance Armstrong is cheating. David is depicted as a real fan of the sport, and it’s through his moral compass that the audience sees just how serious doping in the sport really is. In early scenes, David is interviewing Armstrong for an article, and is taken by the young athlete’s charm and vigour, but can see that physically, he’s not strong enough to take on a Tour de France win. Armstrong sued the real David Walsh when he was trying to cover up his doping, and this is also shown in the film well. Lance is the bully, David is the sincere heart of the sport of cycling, a sport that is suffering. It’s David Walsh’s book that director Stephen Frears (High Fidelity, The Queen) and writer John Hodge (Trainspotting, The Beach) base this film on.
It’s not all one-dimensional scumbaggery from Lance, though. In one scene, he visits a child in the cancer ward of a hospital and, despite his busy media schedule, stays with the boy longer than his time allows. It’s endearing to think that the man who battled cancer also feels for other cancer sufferers. But this is where it gets tricky – just because he’s great with kids doesn’t mean he’s not a drug cheat. Do we cut him some slack? Do we crucify him regardless of the good he may have done?
In a way, perhaps this is what this film is missing – more moments that make you question your thoughts on Lance Armstrong. It would have been amazing to be confronted with more elements in the film that make you uncomfortable for feeling sorry for a drug cheat, but there weren’t that many. Not sure if this is because Frears, Hodge and Walsh – who are clearly adept at taking a great story and bringing it to life on the screen – were unable to actually find redeemable moments in Armstrong’s character. That sounds harsh, but it’s hard to believe that anyone would not be seen feeling any kind of remorse for something so inherently wrong.
The Program, nonetheless, is a fascinating insight into the world of cycling and the competitive mind, even though it brings you no closer to understanding why Lance Armstrong chose to do what he did.
Review Score: THREE STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
The Program is released in cinemas today.
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