If there were Olympic medals for withering commentary on opening ceremonies, America would sweep the pool.

While Ric Birch's extravaganza won almost unanimous praise at home, commentators in the United States were stinging in their criticism, declaring it all too much, too confusing and too long.
'The Sydney organising committee took it upon itself to rewrite the Olympic motto: Swifter, Higher, Stronger . . . Longer,'

wrote Washington Post columnist Sally Jenkins...

Upon reading this... the full article went on for ever and quoted other American media losers... I thought I would explain to readers a little of what actually happened at the Olympic Opening Ceremony. This world-embracing event, obviously, went over the self-centred North American media's heads or was too immense for their pea-sized brains to cope with.

The coverage I watched effectively started with New Zealand TV's One News.
'Cliff'

said April,
'is the cynicism in Sydney over yet?'
'April'

replied Cliff,
'I think you're right'.

Ye gods, not seven hours of this! But there wasn't: we were passed into the faithful hands of commentator Keith Quinn and all was well.

Behind him the centrefield of Stadium Australia seemed carpeted in an octopus skin. Quinn told us this was to represent the outback. Eight o'clock... on the dot... let the opening begin! It did, for three seconds, then we lost reception. When all was restored some clever horses were making the Olympic ring shapes, while the already famous 'G'day' banner was unfurled.

Five set-pieces encapsulated Australia's 40,000-year history. The first was 'Deep Sea Dreaming.' A girl in a pink dress lies down on the beach, goes to sleep and, Quinn tells us,
'dreams of the largest aerial display ever staged'.

Hey! The sleeping girl has suddenly soared into the sky... how did they do that? Below her is a sea of immense glowing fish. Floating hopefully among them, a worm on a hook; hi-tech spliced with humour... which became the leitmotif of the night. The scene changes: corroboree time. Hundreds of Aborigines... ghostly in ceremonial flour... are leading the little pink girl to their song-singer. And as they sang I realised for the first time how immensely sophisticated are the tunes of the indigenous Aussies. Three hundred and fifty Aboriginal women arrive.
'Some of them have walked for five days to be here',

says commentator John McBeth. Would it have hurt the IOC to have sent a bus? Five hundred Aboriginals suddenly clap once; a willy-nilly of flour rises from the stadium. From somewhere a painting of a head floats upwards.
'Thirty two metres in diameter',

yaps McBeth. But it's a powerful moment.

Part two... Nature. Dozens of fire-eaters belch undigested flames into the sky, creating a standard Aussie conflagration. Then regeneration begins in a glorious upsurge of greenness and colour as flower-people build themselves into the complex shapes of well-known blooms.
'There's massive use of wire, overhead',

says Quinn, entranced. Then Captain Cook pedals into Botany Bay on a 'Heath Robinson' see-through sailing ship, followed by a wave of rumbustious settlers who let off fireworks as metaphors for the fireworks they're about to create. To Irish music and a two-storey horse monster representing mad technology, we watch the destruction of the Aboriginal world. Merry jigs ensue, while everyone seems to turn into Ned Kelly;
'He represented larrikinism!'

says Quinn.

And so on... unvaryingly spectacular... up till the present day. Although there's a case for saying that once every Aussie had become a larrikin we'd reached the present. Two thousand bandsmen then played a tune about one solitary little swagman, then the teams arrived.
'Don't look for Australia under 'A','

says McBeth. Bahrain has sent women... and they're not even in those Muslim masks. Belarus... happily waving their little national flags for the last time before defecting. Colombia... I had no idea so many Colombians hadn't been shot. Ecuador... no women; they're all at Miss Universe. If McBeth tells me one more time 3.7 billion people are watching, I'm gonna switch off and mess up his figures.

The Japanese in many-coloured ponchos. Are they sponsored by Smarties? Then the first lump to the throat is created by the uni-flagged Koreans. Ireland... only team to have a singles competitor in the synchronised swimming... just kidding.
'Bill Clinton . . . Gates is here,'

says Quinn. Olivia Newton-John and John Farnham sing a song about' Tel Aviv' - no, 'Dare to Dream'. Olympic president Samaranch begins his speech with:
'G'day Sydney'

and suddenly seems human. The only dreadful moment:
'I declare open the Games'

says the Australian Governor General. Probably drunk, he then applauds himself and implodes the microphone. The oath is taken by an Aussie girl who appeared nude, recently, in a magazine. She is clothed but it's rumoured she's naked underneath.

Herb Elliott brings the flame to the stadium door. Gives it to wheelchaired Betty Cuthbert, who is pushed by Raylene Boyle. The Aus. female Olympic stars of yesteryear have been selected to celebrate 100 years of female participation in the Olympics. They pass the flame to Dawn Fraser, she to Shirley Strickland, to Shane Gould, to Debbie Flintoff and finally to ... Cathy Freeman. Freeman lopes up the steps and into the middle of a pond. She dips the flame into the water; a ring of fire surrounds her. Australia's hottest medal hope is about to be incinerated! Out of the water rises a spaceship which bears the fire safely over her head. Superb.

'...only boxing and wrestling are not contested by women,'

Quinn is saying!

Loonytunes

18.09.00. Front Page

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