Witty Britain <i>dazzles the world </i>
From William Shakespeare to William Blake, from JK Rowling to Rowan Atkinson, from Tim Berners-Lee to Daniel Craig, from the Sex Pistols to the Beatles, from Arctic Monkey's to Akram Khan, from Peter Pan to Lord Voldemort and from James Bond to the Queen of England, Danny Boyle's “Isles of Wonder” managed to make the impossible, possible.
The Oscar-winning director put on an opening ceremony of bombastic proportions, one which lived up to the hype in all aspects by somehow managing to incorporate all that we love about Britain in a three-hour festival of light, song and artistry that had the audience buzzing long into the night.
In the metros and on the streets people hummed and chanted the famous chorus of 'Hey Jude” which proved to be the closing act of the night; a coup de grace provided by Paul McCartney. Some spoke of the ceremony in hushed tones of awe, others were more expressive. London, on early evidence, seems to have loved its biggest party.
No wonder then that the theme of the show was, “This is for everyone.” And it truly was.
It was hard to see how anyone could go home disappointed after a show that charted, with excellence, the progress of British history from the halcyon days of it being a green and pleasant land through to the dark but somehow progressive days of the industrial revolution, to the new world of web interconnectivity that we live in today.
Boyle's presentation was seamless and in between he managed to sew together many other elements; like for instance Britain's amazing body of children's literature from Peter Pan to Harry Potter to Marry Poppins. There was room also to celebrate the National Health Service (NHS) and pay tribute to Rowan Atkinson's brilliant character -- Mr. Bean.
But there was more, so much more.
The most intriguing act involved James Bond, played by Craig himself. He entered Buckingham Palace, dodge the corgies before meeting Queen Elizabeth the second (not Helen Mirren or any other actress) as she got ready to attend the opening ceremony. They boarded a helicopter and was waved along by Londoners, including Sir Winston Churchill. After a short ride, the pair inexplicably jumped with parachutes (mercifully played by two actors). Seconds later the Queen appeared at the grand-stand with Prince Phillip, serenaded by the national anthem.
Muhammad Ali made an appearance, the legendary boxer a shadow of the man who danced like a butterfly and stung like a bee. His presence alone was enough to lift the 80,000 inside the stadium to raucous applause.
There was David Beckham, there was Steve Redgrave and there was also room for Tour de France winner Bradley Wiggins. The choreography was spectacular particularly in the case of belching chimneys that rose from the ground on the same place where moments before live sheep had trod and men had played cricket.
The only letdown was perhaps the identity of those who lit the torch. There was no Roger Bannister, neither was it the Queen. Instead the task was left to youngsters, each nominated by a famous athlete. Even that segment though was more than made-up for by the inventive ways in which Boyle managed to ignite the tiny copper petals on the ground before converging into one flame.
Boyle's artistic ceremony was followed by the parade of the roughly 10,500 athletes. Greece led, as the spiritual home of the games, and Team Great Britain was last, as host. Prince William and his wife, Kate, joined in thunderous applause that greeted the British team, which marched to the David Bowie track "Heroes." A helicopter then showered the athletes and stadium with 7 billion tiny pieces of paper one for each person on Earth.
Boyle's ceremony had spectacle, it had narrative, but it also had jokes and fun. It was cohesive but anarchic and somehow it managed to be both quirky and cheeky.
In short, it was so good at showcasing what it had set out to do that by the end, Caliban's words from the Tempest, that had dominated the show, finally began to sound prophetic.
Britain truly is an isle full of noises, of sounds, and of sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. And in the words of the Beatles song, all you have to do is "let her into your heart".
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