Damon Hill Tells His Story

All things considered, the Hill documentary is good... but I have some points to raise.

Damon Hill's career is very unlikely to be replicated in Formula 1. I doubt we will see a modern equivalent of him, and the reason is simple: age. He is a contemporary of Ayrton Senna, with roughly seven months separating their births. However, the Brit entered the sport eight years after the Brazilian, at the age of 32.

Hill balanced two jobs in 1992: driving for Brabham until the team went bankrupt and testing for Williams. The latter ultimately led to full-time employment with the Grove team in 1993.

Hill worked his way up the ranks of the best team in Formula 1 at the time. And his work was pretty important, as he was involved in testing the almighty FW14B, the car of the 1990s. Alongside Paddy Lowe and a team of engineers, he was responsible for integrating the active suspension system designed by Frank Dernie in the mid-1980s into the vehicle.

This was in the days before simulators, gazillion sensors, flow-vis paint, and all the fancy tech of today. The only way to determine whether a wing, device, or any part of a car functioned properly was to take it to the track and complete hundreds of laps. Considering the enormous advantage that Williams' active suspension provided in 1992, it is fair to say that Hill did a good job as a test driver. This aspect of his career is sometimes overlooked, so here I give him his flowers.

Given the late start to his career and the frenetic stint in the top team— being a teammate to two all-time greats, Alain Prost and the aforementioned Senna, becoming the lead driver after the Brazilian’s death at Imola, enduring nerve-wracking battles with another all-time great Michael Schumacher, and being sacked by Williams while leading the championship in 1996 – I think he can hold his head high and be proud of himself.

I mean, he kind of was essentially thrown into a shark tank and managed to survive.

The Human Being

The recently released documentary titled Hill, depicts the turbulent period of the Brit's life. It showcases not only the driver but also the son who lost his father, Graham—a double world champion whose footsteps he followed—a husband, and simply a human being who faced numerous hardships.

The human side of the sport is poignantly illustrated at the tragic San Marino Grand Prix. Hill’s wife, Georgie, recalls how Senna spoke to her about his nephews just before the race and how powerless she felt watching her husband race after the fatal crash of his teammate.

One of my personal favorite moments occurs when an intrusive journalist poses rude questions to Hill, clearly attempting to provoke him; Hill deftly disarms the annoying pest with self-deprecating one-liners.

I enjoyed the human side. However, the primary reason I watched the documentary was the F1 part of it. And you can’t tell the story of Damon Hill without mentioning a certain German.

The Villain

When the Hill documentary was announced, many Schumacher fans—including myself—wondered whether he would be portrayed as a male version of Park Yeon-jin, a villain so diabolical that even Lucifer would hesitate to approach her without a cross and holy water. While there may be a hint of this, it’s rather mild for my taste.

There’s no question that the German was a ruthless go-getter, the alpha of the grid, who, in his mind, righteously sat at the top of the drivers’ hierarchy. This aspect of his personality is accurately portrayed. Of course, Schumacher was a far more complex character, but the movie is not about him, so it’s no wonder that the depiction of him resembles a waning crescent rather than a full moon.

Hill, while describing his nemesis, states that the German “treated his competitors with an air of disdain.” Well, if the Brit had used the word “me” instead of “his competitors,” it would’ve been perfectly accurate. He has had ample reasons to feel this way, as Schumacher, on more than one occasion, made it clear—both on and off the track—that he considered the Brit inferior. Near the end of the heated and tumultuous 1994 season, the German called him a second-rate driver and a little man.

The “air of disdain” is true, when it comes to Hill, or Jacques Villeneuve. But not necessarily extends to others, such as Jean Alesi or Mika Hakkinen.

What is more important in the context of the Hill documentary, is when he crossed the finish line of the 1996 Japanese Grand Prix as a newly crowned world champion, Schumacher drove alongside him and gave the Brit a thumbs up, later shook his hand on the podium and sprayed him with champagne. But you’re not going to see it in the movie.

Handling the Can of Worms

The documentary, to its credit, addresses the controversies of 1994 in a highly professional manner, focusing on the three most significant issues relevant to the film's topic.

On the alleged use of banned traction control by Benetton, Hill states that Williams' perspective was: "we don’t have the evidence; we don’t know what they’re doing." There was no evidence, only suspicions and insinuations. As for what the Enstone team was doing, according to one of the designers of the B194, Willem Toet, they were using an air pressure sensor to adjust engine acceleration rate.

The movie only scratches the surface of the British Grand Prix. It accurately notes that Schumacher was penalized for overtaking Hill during the formation laps. It doesn't mention the whole mess that ensued. This omission is understandable; after all, the documentary is titled Hill not Great Almanac of the 1994 Formula 1 Championship.

On the other hand, the disqualification and two-race ban imposed on the German in the aftermath, along with an additional disqualification in Belgium, resulted in Schumacher being excluded from a quarter of the season. These factors were the reasons why Hill was in the championship fight in the first place, regardless of whether one thinks they were justified or not.

The race concluded at the wonderful Adelaide circuit when the Benetton and the Williams collided at Turn 6, after Schumacher had whacked the wall in the previous corner. The documentary features footage of the incident. Hill does not accuse or demonize, he addresses the soul-crushing moment with class.

He just says that “the FIA should’ve looked into it, but they didn’t.” A possible explanation for this is that, in similar incidents—where the attacker dives on the inside and the defender cuts across to take the racing line as if no one is alongside him—no action has been taken in the past.

The Prat Affair

To my surprise, the significantly less polarizing collisions involving Schumacher and Hill at Silverstone and Monza in 1995 are addressed with lower reporting standards. The documentary, instead, allows itself some creative freedom.

The British driver, recalling the incident at the British Grand Prix, says that he “got suckered into” the dive bomb that eliminated both him and the German, because “there was something in a way he [Schumacher] opened the door.”

The collision occurred at Priory, at the time a slow, perpendicular left turn that followed the high-speed right-hander of Bridge—a section that is no longer part of the circuit. To navigate Priory effectively, a driver must’ve positioned his vehicle close to the outside edge of the track. This is precisely what the German did. He drove as usual, not anticipating a desperate maneuver from a 2-3 car lengths behind.

To be fair, Hill prefaces the Silverstone incident by stating that Schumacher got into his head, which made him angry, and anger often leads to foolish actions. However, his interpretation of the incident suggests that by stupid he means, "I was stupid to be baited like that," rather than "I was stupid to go for it.”

On a funny note, Hill recalls reading in a newspaper the next day that his boss, Frank Williams, had called him a prat. This incident became a topic in Derek Daly’s news segment during ESPN’s coverage of the subsequent race in Germany.

For the record, Williams issued a statement denying that he used this unflattering description of his employee.

The Memory Holed Antics of Taki Inoue

The collision at Monza is handled even worse; paradoxically, it is much easier to cut Hill some slack in this case. That’s what I did in my post defending the Brit’s tumultuous 1995 season. I attributed most of the blame to Taki Inoue, whom both Schumacher and Hill lapped just before the accident:

The German lapped the backmarker. Closely following him Hill, attempted to do the same while heading into Variante della Roggia. He moved to the inside, but a moment later, Inoue did the same, forcing the Williams driver to switch to the outside. Focused on the Japanese, Hill braked too late and boom. It was game over for both him and Schumacher.

It’s rather difficult to focus on your braking point and decelerate the car safely when a backmarker alters his line just before the braking zone.

Inoue’s contribution to the collision that took both bitter rivals off was also acknowledged by Hill in the aftermath of the race:

I felt I was not wholly to blame in that I was concentrating on Inoue, who was chopping and changing his line. He should not have a license. When I got through, there was Michael going a lot slower than on the previous 20 laps.

To my surprise, the footage presented in the documentary does not include the erratic driving of the Japanese legend. Instead, it only depicts Hill rear-ending Schumacher and their reactions to the incident, expressed while adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

The German stated that he was once again taken out by his rival when he could have extended his championship lead over him. The Brit questioned why the Benetton driver was traveling 20 kph slower in the chicane than he had previously.

Not a word about Inoue. And not a word about Hill getting a suspended race ban for the incident.

Justice for Suzuka

For me, the most disappointing aspect of the documentary is its portrayal of the 1994 Japanese Grand Prix—my favorite race in terms of aesthetics. The dark, gloomy monsoon weather, combined with the bright, vibrant, and colorful liveries, created the most stunning F1 visuals that I've seen. The opening lap, when Schumacher and Hill arrive at Spoon while cameras flash in the crowd, is a moment that deserves to be framed and displayed in a museum.

It’s also a race I’m still salty about. The strategy, the Safety Car, and the red flag heavily compromised the Benetton driver’s race, however I think he still would’ve won if he hadn’t been caught in traffic after the first pit stop. But that’s a story for another time.

Finally, the 1994 Japanese Grand Prix stands as Hill’s greatest victory—a truly remarkable achievement that any all-time great would proudly include on their resume. I think the film fails to adequately emphasize the brilliance of the Brit’s performance. While it portrays Hill’s mindset, illustrating his frustration with the team doubting him, and his almost mystical experience during the final lap, it falls short of explaining why this drive was such a great performance.

I understand that the movie couldn't delve into the details, such as the red flags and the aggregate timing etc., and that the producers likely had a limited runtime in mind. However, I still believe they could have done more.

Well, if these prats can’t do it properly, I’ll do the fucking job.

In the final nine laps of the race, Hill had to push like a madman in treacherous conditions while navigating through heavy traffic, all the while Schumacher was closing in on him 1.512 seconds on average. On the last lap, despite racing on worn tires—one of which had not been changed during his only pit stop, with everything on the line, he set the fastest lap of his second stint at 1:57.884, which was 1.109 seconds quicker than his average pace of that stint and the only one under 1:58.

You may applaud.

Approved

For me, the biggest weakness of the movie is the excessive focus on Hill’s struggles and hardships during his time at Williams. Do you know what Hill’s maiden victory is? You won’t discover it by watching the movie, which I find mind-boggling. It’s almost as if the Formula 1 segment of the documentary serves as a reflection of the Brit’s personal struggles following his father’s death.

Essentially, I think the protagonist deserved more pats on the back.

Regardless of the aforementioned points, Hill is a well-crafted story. I certainly enjoyed it more than I had expected.