Deborah Ross

The Program could do with a good dose of performance-enhancing drugs

It’s as if one half of the story can’t be bothered to go meet the other half, like the film’s bored of itself

issue 17 October 2015

The Program, as directed by Stephen Frears, is a biopic of Lance Armstrong, the American cyclist and ‘sporting hero’ who came back from cancer to win the Tour de France seven times before he was exposed as a drugs cheat. It is a thrilling fall-from-grace story, the sort that brings you out in goosebumps just thinking about it — to know you have cheated, to know you are about to be found out, to live with having been found out; how might any of this feel? This should have served Armstrong up on a plate, but it somehow doesn’t. It covers the ground, but it’s underpowered dramatically. It’s like watching a perfunctory documentary, acted out. It doesn’t give us the man. I wanted to see him unravel. I wanted to taste his shame, and maybe even roll about in it a bit. But none of that is forthcoming. So you’ll likely feel cheated by this, too.

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