Olympic opening ceremonies are not new. What was new at the 2024 Paris games was a wholesale willingness to re-invent fundamental conceptions about what those ceremonies should look like. (Photo credit)
Were those Parisian Olympic opening ceremonies a big Gallic bust?
Au contraire, mon frère!
The character of the faceless, costumed runner traversing Parisian streets had some critics suggesting a colossal mistake, a dark image that added somber, bleak overtones at a time traditionally designed for celebration. I would like to offer another view. From a dramatic perspective, that faceless character represented all of us as we collectively navigate dark days. That faceless character, effectively a modern knight hustling through 21st century spaces, dodged the same metaphoric perils each of us confront every single day. We confront the city; we confront transit itself; we confront each other, often a source of approbation if not —sad to say--outright threat. We have spoiled much of the natural world around us; we have threatened our futures; we have corrupted many of the positive values that cultures around the world purport to support. It is rare for any of us NOT to perceive a sense of implicit or explicit peril nipping at our heels. Darkness stalks the world, represented by the urban flight of our dramatic, fleet footed knight, and it could only be through manipulative corporate marketing or sad self-delusion to think anything else these days. Humanity has cast shadow upon itself.
But back to the show!
The knight emerged at the grand Place du Trocadero and delivered the Olympic colors after a harrowing journey. In fact, because the knight had succeeded in his task, the character became a heroic one, and the presentation of the Olympic flag itself became a spark of arrival. As befitting the traditional Olympic narrative, that spark effectively ignited a few moments later with the arrival of the torch, which then went on to kindle the Olympic flame. Ceremony organizers re-imagined a bit of dramatic French history with their 2024 flame, harkening back to a stunning demonstration in 1783 when two brothers launched a huge paper and silk balloon, a first-of-its-kind beacon signaling humanity’s ability to overcome the force of gravity. This years’s Olympic flame hovers in mid-air above Paris, suggesting a 21st beacon of hope as well as wonder.
Fragmented into scenic vignettes along the Seine, this year’s opening ceremony lacked a certain cohesion typically afforded by experiences tied to singular locations like arenas and theaters. But in transformation there is also opportunity. Visitors in situ experienced a living theater, a Paris brought to surreal, heightened life. Visitors around the globe—an exponentially larger audience—experienced a kaleidoscope of locales, of tonal shifts, of theatrical expressions, all tied together by a thematic idea.
I know, I know, the whole “Last Supper” kerfuffle provoked ferocious shouts from many corners and conversations. I understand, and even respect, that these are concerns we should neither dismiss nor ignore. But if you’re reading this, you’ll have to tolerate my take. Relax. Was it a bad choice? Probably. Was it so offensive that it demanded we dismiss the energetic list of other vigorous, sensitive, smart, inventive moments? I don’t think so. Criticism is fair, especially in a public forum, and some ideas rightly deserve more criticism than others. But if there’s one thing the 2020s should be teaching us all it’s that everyone needs to find a little more patience tolerating a range of ideas. Doesn’t mean you have to love everything, but it does mean that critical outrage needs to be scaled proportionally. Otherwise, we collectively risk missing the whole stage play when it’s only one or two scenes worthy of dismissive eye rolls.
Big art of all types is inherently perilous. It almost always requires enormous expense and unusual forbearance of its benefactors. Big art often has to appeal to widely different sensibilities in a vastly heterogenous audience. With hundreds of thousands of viewers located at sites throughout Paris and billions more watching on various screens around the world it’s hard to make something simultaneously accessible and compelling without losing an authentic sense of soul. The French opening ceremonies dared to deconstruct more than 120 years of Olympic tradition. By scattering the show around the city with a sinewy thread of river holding it together, the creative team took huge risks. In fact, it was this daring deconstruction that enabled a re-imagination of the entire narrative. Even weighed down with the bloat of massive multi-national corporate interests, the opening ceremonies embodied the best part of boundary-pushing theatrical sensibilities. This was “big art” for a global audience with boundless ambition.
Yes, there were missteps. Yes, there were some ill considered choices, aesthetically, technically, and narratively. I rolled my eyes at a few of them with amusement and let most of them roll off my back at the same time. But ultimately I must applaud vigorously. With the risks of spicy big art being reduced by commercial tendencies into a tasteless pablum, this particular show asked a global audience to stretch. There were laughs. There were moments of soaring emotion, there was drama, there were duds. Considering alternative human expressions of entirely bleaker, more depressing, more dehumanizing sorts basically everywhere, it was pleasing to see the creative community holding up better reasons to be together.
One more note. For all of the artistic daring and inventive energy, we should not skip lauding one of the most extraordinary aspects of the entire four hour show. Hiding in plain sight was the astoundingly complex electronic production teams that actually captured events in real-time and then delivered it all as a live tableau to a waiting world. The planning, the engineering, the sheer creative brio to figure it all out, keep dozens of camera in sharp focus, capture good audio, transmit signals, sync it all up, switch, switch, switch a million graphics, and keep us all in the story, boggles the mind. I would gladly wash dishes at a fine French restaurant for three days straight if I could meet that production team and get a tour of the broadcast center!