What I learned from Ford V Ferrari and Ken Miles

I’m not an engineer or an expert in auto mechanics. And I don’t claim to be. But I have developed an interest in cars, an interest which a film I recently watched has amplified. I’m of course talking about “Le Mans ‘66” or “Ford V Ferrari”, starring Christian Bale as legendary racer Ken Miles and Matt Daemon as iconic car designer Carroll Shelby.

This James Mangold masterpiece hit all the right notes and taught me a thing or two about passion, engineering, and friendship. (May contain a few spoilers).

Here’s to the crazy ones

I must admit, prior to watching “Ford V Ferrari”, I didn’t know who Ken Miles was. But I’m so glad I got to know him. Bale’s portrayal brought him to life in an exquisite way. I was rooting for him from the get go. I wanted to see him succeed and win at Le Mans.

Was it dramatised? Of course, but it still stayed true to his driving exploits, and for me, that’s more than enough to keep me interested.

During a launch event for a new Ford Mustang in the film, Shelby made a rousing speech. He said “it’s a truly lucky man who knows what he wants to do in this world. For that man will never work a day in his life. But there are a few. A precious few. And hell, I don’t know if they are lucky or not, but there are a few people who find something they have to do. Something that obsesses them. Something that if they can’t do it, it’ll drive them clean out of their mind.”

To me, that quote encapsulates the essence of the entire film. It’s that relentless pursuit of a goal that’s much larger than yourself that put guys like Shelby and Miles in the driving seat time and again.

Miles ahead of the game

Ken Miles was one of a kind. He really understood motorcar racing. The car was an extension of his own being, allowing him to feel out what was missing as he offered his prognosis to Shelby and co during the herculean task of building a GT40 worthy of beating Ferrari at Le Mans.

As a viewer, I found myself stitched into Miles’ journey. From an out-of-luck mechanic slash talented racer to a Le Mans competitor. Hollywood-fied or not, the feels when he was robbed of an historic trio of victories in a single year were real. It brought me to tears. It brought the world to his knees.

Passion preceded the man behind the wheel of a GT40, as he bounced back from an early mishap, and left his competitors scrambling in his dust trail. Miles may not have topped the leader board that day, but he won me over. And probably you as well.

A Masterclass in Engineering

There’s a lot that goes into building a racecar. Especially when you’re building one for Le Mans. Yes, I stated the obvious, but it cannot be stated enough. You want the speed (duh), but you also want the endurance. What’s the point of having the speed if your wheel caps start flaming, and your ride goes bust?

In the film, Lorenzo Bandini, played by Francesco Bauco, pushed his 330 P3 to the limit in a bid to match the supreme racing prowess of Ford’s GT40 MKII. The film shows Bandini’s car succumb to failure after he persisted on 9000 rpm, and his trusted Ferrari could take it no more. This paved the way for Ford’s picture perfect victory at the finish line. Pun very much intended.

The takeaway here? The MKII GT40 benefited from superior car engineering, and as a result could endure 7000 rpm for sustained periods of time without meeting Ferrari’s fate.

It could so easily have been different, though. In the 64 and 65 editions of the motorsport spectacle, the GT40, though undeniably fast, had issues with gearboxes, suffered from blown head gaskets, and overheated front brake rotors, pretty much taking them out of the game.

Did you know? Ken Miles actually DID go to Le Mans in ’65, and left the competition because of brake failure. But the film’s version was a better story, so yeah, suck it history.

The aerodynamics were also awful. At over 321 km/h, the cars developed so much lift, the car lost traction, and couldn’t be controlled. This posed serious engineering questions for Henry Ford II and his compadres, and he had to turn to the real experts to get the job done right.

A job well done

Now, according to some fact checks, while Shelby and Miles were integral to the overall success of the GT40 MKII, there was an entire roster of brilliant minds who combined to do the impossible: create a Ferrari-beater on a tight ass deadline.

The game changer, arguably, was Ford engineer, Phil Remington’s innovative brake system, which allowed the pit crew to quickly swap out the pads and rotors during a driver change. This shaved a fair few minutes off Ford’s clock, and allowed them to continue pushing hard without running the risk of falling off the grid.

There were cries of foul play from other teams, but hey whether or not you understand French, it wasn’t in the damn rule book. All’s fair in love and war, ey?

All in all, Ford did the impossible. They created a world class racing machine in limited time, competed, and won at the ‘66 Le Mans. And the ‘67, the ‘68, the ‘69.

This is no easy feat. Others in history bowed out of the challenge, including the ’66 Jaguar XJ13. But not Ford. Not Shelby. Not Miles. Not the engineers.

Did Carroll Shelby really bet his whole company on Miles winning Daytona? Nope. Was the movie’s chief villain, Leo Beebe, that much of a noob? Probably, but can’t say for sure.

None of that matters though. Between James Mangold’s directional artistry, some wonderful cinematography, a gorgeous script and Oscar-worthy performances from Damon and Bale, what we had was a film that served the memory of Ken Miles’ in the most deserving way.