Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment
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20th Century Fox original film Ford v Ferrari was released digitally January 28th, 2020.

#FordvFerrariis based on true events.

rottentomatoes: 92%

metacritic: 81

imdb: 8.1

oscars: 2 wins

golden globes: 1 nomination

SAG awards: 1 nomination

Ken Miles, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Christian BaleKen Miles

Ken Miles and Carroll Shelby engineer the Ford GT40 outside of 1966 Venice, California.

Ken Miles, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Christian BaleBest Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

1 nomination: 2020

Outstanding Performance by a Male Actor in a Leading Role

1 nomination: 2020

“I answer the phone every time it rings.  Yes, I do.  Yeah, you’ve coked up the inlet valves and the plugs.  Nothing wrong with the car, just the way it’s being driven.  Too much fuel, not enough spark.  All right, sir.  So… that there, that is a sport car.  You have to drive her like a sport car.  If you driver her like a school teacher, she’ll clog up.  All right?  Try changing up at 5,000 RPM, not two.  Drive like you mean it.  Hard and tight.  She’ll run clean.  No.  But if you ask me, this isn’t your car.  Your car’s more a Plymouth or a Studebaker.  I don’t have a problem.  I had an MG.  Mine ran just fine.  Oh, behave.  I’d give it to you.  But you haven’t paid for last month’s service yet.  Yeah.  Yeah.  Utter nonsense.  Now remember, I advanced the timing, so a smidge twitchy at first.  Get the revs up.  Good lad.  Revs up.  Ta-ra.  Can I help you, miss?  Ah, you know your cars.  Right.  Mines the wood-paneled Country Squire… across the street.  A real hot rod.  Very.  Wait a second.  What type of girl are ya?  Oh.  Oh, what are you some kind of a deviant, are ya?” — Ken Miles

“You all right?  Wait, wait, wait.  What?  No, no, no.  Look, look, look.  Can I ask you a question, all right?  When you were a little boy, did you think, ‘when I grow up, I want to go to the fabled Willow Springs Raceway, and I want to enforce paragraph 15.4, section 2b of the SCCA regulations on luggage capacity?’  Did you?” — Ken Miles

“How is that possible?  Is he, mate?  Hey!  Jim!  Is he putting his bloody carryall in your trunk?  Nothing in there about my trunk and your lovely little portmanteau.  And you can stick this bloody sticker where the sun don’t shine.  The problem is that Bill here is an arsehole.  Oh, yes, he does.  No, he really does think that Bill is an arsehole.  Happy, Bill?  Huh?  Bill.  No.  Who’s that?  All right.  I thought we felt the same way about, uh, Germans.  Excuse me?  I don’t lose.  Shel!  Don’t make me lamp this at your head.” — Ken Miles

“New design.  Here we go.  Oh, bloody hell.  Oh, bloody hell.  Learn to drive, you pillock.  I’m gonna out-break you on the next turn, Bob.  Ha-ha!  Nice try, Bob.  Now for you, Dan.  Come on.  Come on.  That calls for a nice cup of tea.  Hop in.  I’m H-A-P-P-Y.  I’m H-A-P-P-Y.  I know I am, I’m sure I am.  I’m H-A-P-P-Y.” — Ken Miles

“Hey.  We did it.  What’s wrong?  All right, Petey.  Correct.  Correct.  Absolutely.  As in, not a bean, or a pot in which to piss.  Spares, stock, all gone.  Tools.  My tools are locked up in there.  I’ll figure something out.” — Ken Miles

“I think I do.  Now, I’ve had my fun.  It’s time to put food on the table… and grow up.  The garage didn’t pay the bills.  Now it’s locked up.  Racing doesn’t pay them either, and I keep winning.  But I can’t play the game.  I’m not what they call a people person.  And I’m 45 years old.  Do you really think I’m gonna change?  I’m never gonna get the good rise.  I started too late.  Let’s quit going around the Wrekin.  It’s over.  Let’s look on the bright side.  Now I can get fat and old, trim the roses, and eat pork pies.” — Ken Miles

“The mirrors are outstanding.  So, what, you just passing on an evening stroll?  You’re gonna build a car to beat Old Man Ferrari… …with Ford?  With a Ford?  And how long did you tell them that you needed?  Two, three hundred years?  All right, so let’s just look at this for a moment.  And for argument’s sake, let’s just forget about the whole 90-day thing.  So let’s just pretend you’ve got all the money in the world and all the time in the world.  All right.  So… you think that Ford are gonna let you build the car that you want… the way you want it?  The Ford Motor Company?  Those guys?  Have you ever been to Detroit?  They have floors and floors of lawyers and millions of marketing guys and they’re all gonna want to meet you.  They’re gonna want to get their photo taken with the great Carroll Shelby, and they’re gonna kiss your ass and go back to their lovely offices… and they’re gonna work out new ways to screw you.  Why?  Because they can’t help it.  Because they just want to please their boss who wants to please his boss who wants to please his boss.  And they hate themselves for it.  But deep down… who they hate even more are guys like you, because you’re not like them, because you don’t think like them, because you’re different.  I’ll bet they are.  You know why?  Because someone, and I’m not saying who, someone has told them that this is actually possible.  All right, Shel.”

“Huh.  I think it’s a secretary’s car.  Yes, it is.  No, no, no, Peter.  You’re okay.  Who are you?  Ah.  Ah!  At least now we know who’s responsible.  Don’t get me wrong, Lenny.  It looks fantastic.  But inside, it’s a lump of lard dressed up to fool the public.  My advice is, lose the inline-six and that idiotic three-speed, shorten the wheelbase, somehow lose half a ton, and lower the price.  But even then, I’d still choose a Chevy Chevelle.  And that’s a fucking terrible car.” — Ken Miles

“All right.  Let’s go.  Ah, it’s a bloody pig in a poke, isn’t it?  My guess, Peter… it’s someone we know.  Hello, Mr. Lindbergh.  Yeah.  We’ve, um… we met.  Yeah.  Didn’t we?  So, um, well… I’ll take Petey for some pop.  Good luck with these guys, Shel.  Let’s go.” — Ken Miles

“No.  Whatever it is, no.  No.  Ah, just… I’m spent.  I wanna have a bath.  Thirty minutes.  Bloody hell.  Whoa!  Come on.  Interesting.  It’s awful.  Yeah, it doesn’t track.  You know, the third gear is too high. Torque is not reaching the road.  Steering’s loose because the front end gets light.  And over 140, it thinks it’s a… yeah.  It wants to lift off and fly to Hawaii.  One sec.”

“Yeah.  Mmm.  What?  Mollie.  And I answered, didn’t I?  Is something up, love?  What are you doing?  What are you doing?  You’re driving very fast.  Yes, you are.  Bloody hell!  What are you… the hell is this?  Right, slow down!  Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!  Mollie!  Please slow it down, all right?  You trying to kill us or something?  What?  Bloody hell!  No, no, no.  It’s not the same at all.  All right.  Okay.  Shit.  Okay, but slow it… Mollie, slow down.  You’re too close here.  Mollie, put on the brakes right now… all right.  I went to look at a car.  With Shelby.  Sort of.  Oh!  Are you gonna lift your foot off at all through this?  Slow down!  Okay.  Shel offered me a job.  Ford has a car that they want to put against a Ferrari.  That’s it.  Now, slow… I didn’t say yes.  Slow down.  I don’t understand.  I don’t understand.  I don’t understand.  Are you upset because I said I was done or because I looked at a race car?  Moll, I don’t even know what I feel.  It’s 200 a day.  Plus expenses.  But I haven’t decided.” — Ken Miles

“Look out there.  Out there is the perfect lap.  No mistakes.  Every gear change, every corner… perfect.  You see it?  Most people can’t.  Most people don’t even know it’s out there, but it is.  It’s there.” — Ken Miles

Carroll Shelby, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Matt DamonCarroll Shelby

“She’s running a little hot, but we’re good.  Tires are still gripping.  Ge off me!  Off!  Fill the tank!  Am I on fire?  Am I on goddamn fire?  Fill the damn tank!  Where am I, Eddie?  What?  Oh, I take the pills.  The pills work.  I’ll race shorter format.  Well, I could race NASCAR.  Formula One.  Well, I feel real lucky.  Luckiest guy on earth.” — Carroll Shelby

“There’s a point at 7,000 RPM where everything fades.  The machine becomes weightless.  Just disappears.  And all that’s left is a body moving through space and time.  7,000 RPM.  That’s where you meet it.  It asks you a question.  The only question that matters.  ‘Who are you?'” — Carroll Shelby

“Go away.  Go away.  Well, early bird gets the worm, pops.  All right, who you worried about?  Corvettes.  What about Bondurant?  Hey, Phil.  Hey, take it easy on us today, bud.  Ah, well, if it isn’t Lance Reventlow.  How you doing, Lance. Oh, I know all about Mr. Voss.  Thank you.  Oh, you following Miles?  Well, he was a USAC road racing champ in ’61.  He won the Pikes Peak Hill Climb.  He was SCCA C-class champion three years in a row in this piece-of-shit MG he built himself.  What, Ken?  no, no.  Ken’s a puppy dog.  Hey, Lance, tell the man.  Is that right?  Gentlemen, excuse me a moment.  Hey.  Hey, Bill.  What seems to be the problem, Bill?  No, he doesn’t mean that.  Hang on.  Bill, Bill, Bill.  In my experience, there is… listen to me.  Something like this, there’s always a middle ground.  All right?  Now, Ken’s outta line.  I understand you are.  You know how he gets on a race day.  You know that.  All right?  But you’re not gonna DQ us over a trunk.  Bill, I’ll handle it.  I’ll talk to him.  Shit.  Bulldog.  You know who that was I was just talking to?  Before that.  It was Dieter Voss.  He runs Porsche, Ken.  It’s a little German car company.  Maybe you’ve heard of it.  He wanted you to drive at Sebring.  But he’d heard you were difficult.  Do you like losing, Ken?  Oh, you heard me.  Without sponsors, you get no car, Ken.  The last I checked, the professionals all have a car.  You cannot win the SCCA without one.  If you’re not winning, you are losing.  Did you bring your son all the way out here to watch you get disqualified or just act like a jackass?  Well, that answers that.  Hey, Sam.  Oh, what rumors would those be, Sam?  Not yet.  Not yet.  Now.  Pops, frame this.” — Carroll Shelby

“Do I gotta deal with this?  Sorry about that.  So, yeah, 289 cubic inch V8.  Extensive rework of AC Ace’s front end.  And a stronger rear diff to handle the torque.  Well, now, I’m not staying you should go drag racing, but a quarter mile’s 13.6.  Yeah.  Oh, that’s real good.  Cash is okay.  Yeah, mister, you just bought yourself one hell of a sport car.  Tell you what, I’m gonna… Phil!  I’m gonna pass you off to my colleague here.  He gonna take care of you.  Phil, Wyatt.  I’m gonna steal him for one second.  You take the payment.  Whatever you do, do not let him take that car.  That’s Jeff Blitzer’s car.  Shit.  I forgot abut McQueen.” — Carroll Shelby

“Morning.  Can I help you?  Maybe. That?  Oh, long story.  We are just going from strength to strength here, Lee.  Terrific sales, we’re killing it on the track.  Now, I know I owe Ford for that last batch of engines– you’re not?  Okay.  Hypothetically?  It takes something money can’t buy.  But it isn’t about speed, Lee.  It’s not just like those other tracks where all you do is turn left for three hours.  To win that race, you need a car that’s light enough to do 200 on the straightaways but strong enough to keep that up for 3,000 miles without a break.  Not just the best car you’ll have ever made, but better than anything that Enzo Ferrari shows up with that year.  And that just gets you to the green flag.  That’s where your problems really start.  Go away.  Look, it’s not even a track, Lee.  Le Mans is eight and a half miles of country road.  It’s narrow, ungraded, it’s rough.  There’s no camber on the turns, no rails.  You gotta do that for 24 hours.  Twenty-four hours, Lee.  That means night.  Half that race is in the dark.  You can’t see shit.  Cars coming up on you out of nowhere.  Drivers stumbling around the track, pouring blood.  Maybe one of ’em is your friend.  Maybe… maybe he’s on fire.  You’re exhausted, you’re hungry… can’t remember your name, what country you’re in.  And all of a sudden, you realize you’re doing 198 on a straight.  And if anything goes wrong… you blow a gasket, a five-cent washer… that’s it, whole thing’s over.  Ferrari wins again.  Just like he won last year and the year before that.  And the year before that.  Yeah.  It’s challenging.  What I’m saying is, you can’t buy a win, Lee.  But maybe you could buy the guy who gets you a shot.” — Carroll Shelby

“A new transmission, axles, shocks all around, ditch the body and the tires, you have yourself a contender.  Anything on this beauty that does work?  I saw that walking up.  Actually, Bulldog, I have a proposition for you.  Yeah.  Correct.  Ninety days.  I like the sound of that.  It’s coming straight from the Deuce.  He’s serious.  They’re gonna put real money behind it.  Look… this Sunday at Cloverfield, they’re launching the new Mustang.  They’re gonna announce the race program.  Just come on by.  Come take a look.  Listen to my speech.  I’m making a speech.  Bring Peter.  He’ll love it.  See you Sunday.”

“How are we doing up there, Steve?  Oh, yeah.  You mind if I take a shot at the landing?  No, no, no.  I mean it.  I flew B-29s out of San Antone in ’44.  I did.  I had an instructor tell me, he said… ‘do everybody a favor, stay on the ground.’  That’s a true story.  Here we go.  Hang on.  Tell you what, that’s like riding a bike.  How y’all doing?  Oh, hell, I know Roy.  Good to see you, Roy.  Hold that thought.  Ah.  You like that?  Hey, Peter, how you doing?  Good to see you.  Well, we’re going to Le Mans, that’s for sure.  And if we get across the finish first, we’re gonna win.  Oh, sure.  Yeah.  A pleasure, Mr. Beebe.  Say hello to Ken Miles and his son, Peter.  See you, Pete.  No, I don’t.  The group?  Well, I’m confused, Lee.  ‘Cause up until this moment, right now, I was comfortable.  Excuse me, Lee.  Gotta go.” — Carroll Shelby

“Thank you.  Well, if my daddy was here today… he’d tell me to sit on down and leave the yakking to the college boys… so, like my cars, I’ll make this fast.  When I was 10 years old, pops said to me, ‘son… it’s a truly luck man who knows what he wants to do in this world.  ‘Cause that man will never work a day in his life.’  But there a few, a precious few, and, hell, I don’t know if they’re lucky or not.  But there are a few people who find something they have to do.  Something obsesses ’em.  Something that if they can’t do it, it’s gonna drive them clean out of their mind.  I’m that guy.  And I know one other man feels exactly the same.  His name… his name is Mr. Henry Ford.  And together, we’re gonna build the fastest automobiles in the world.  And we’re gonna make history, too, at Le Mans.  My name is Carroll Shelby.  I build race cars.” — Carroll Shelby

“Thirty minutes.  You’re gonna wanna see this.  Trust me.  Thirty minutes.  I’ll have you back for meatloaf and gravy.  Yeah.  Fresh off the plane from England.  Now, she’s still a little on the rare side of cooked.  Well?  It’s worse than awful.  Airplane.  Anything else?” — Carroll Shelby

Mollie Miles, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Caitriona BalfeMollie Miles

“Another satisfied customer?  Wasn’t that an MGA 1500?  Well, I like them.  I love the sound they make.  The way it goes right through you.  That vibration.  Oh, yeah?  Is it fast?  The type of girl who likes the smell of wet gasoline.  Burnt rubber.  Well, only since I married you.” — Mollie Shelby

“Peter… may I help you, gentlemen?  No.  I’m his wife.” — Mollie Shelby

“The IRS came.  They’ve padlocked the garage.  A couple of years ago… you said we’d a nest egg.  A couple of years ago.  So just to be clear we are buggered.  As in totally.” — Mollie Shelby

“You don’t have to give up racing to get a bloody day job, Ken.  Yeah, because you’re good.  You don’t say.  Because you fought in the bloody war.  If you stop, you’ll be bloody insufferable.” — Mollie Shelby

“You were back late last night.  Were you working?  So, you didn’t go anyplace?  Well, I’m asking, did you go anyplace last night?  It’s a simple question.  What was the answer?  Oh, am I?  Am I?  Well, you tell me, ’cause I don’t know.  Well, I thought we love this shit.  It’s a bit of racing fun.  No?  Well, I think it’s thrilling!  Look, I saw you, all right?  I saw you leaving with Shelby, and I saw you coming back.  And then all day you’ve got that stupid look on your face.  Not until you tell me what’s going on!  With Shelby?  A racing car?  There’s a corner coming.  You’d better hold on.  No, ’cause I like a clean racing line.  You told me you were done.  You told me you quit.  Get fat and old, you said.  Fat and old.  That’s what you told me.  Just don’t lie to me, Ken.  Don’t make it a secret, what you want or what you feel, just because you think it’s gonna make me happy.  If you do this… then he better be paying you this time.  ‘Cause I can’t work any more hours and look after Peter.  You know, the IRS have the garage.  I’m not losing my home.  Are you shitting me?  $200 a day?  Are you nuts?” — Mollie Shelby

Phil Remington, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Ray McKinnonPhil Remington

“Shelby!  I see you.  Up and at ’em, buddy.  Hey!  Come on.  You can do it.  Come on, baby.  8:30 a.m., time to roll.  Let’s go.  Let’s go.  Let’s go, go, go. It’s 8:30 a.m., baby.  Time to roll.  Come on.  Hey, Bob.  Uh, it’s touch and go.  Shelby, you’re up bright and early.  Well, you got Red Faris and Bill Rushton.  They’re all in 327s.  Corvettes.  Bondurant?  Well, he’s still driving… …for Washburn.  All right, just relax.  We’re gonna eat those Vettes for breakfast.  We’re lighter, we’re faster, and that don’t work, we’re nastier.  Hey, Lance.  To be honest, Ken was born for Sebring.  Nice move, Ken.” — Phil Remington

“Charlie!  Quit throwing crackers at the girls all damn day.  God damn it.  It’s already taken care of.  He sold that same car three times this week.  Hello, Wyatt.  And Frank Collins’ and Steve McQueen’s.  Is everything okay?” — Phil Remington

“Not staying, Ken?  Oh, Lord.  Talk about making an entrance.  Good grief.  Don’t worry, he’s gonna stay.” — Phil Remington

Lee Iacocca, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Jon BernthalLee Iacocca

“Hey, Gar, what’s going on?  Don, what’s going on?  John!” — Lee Iacocca

“In 1945… our soldiers came home.  What was the first thing they did?  They had sex.  Seventeen years later, those babies, they’ve grown.  And they’ve got jobs.  They’ve got licenses.  But they do not wanna drive the same dull 50s cars that their parents drove.  You see, kids today, they want glamour.  They want sex appeal.  They want to go fast.  Gentlemen… it’s time for the Ford Motor Company to go racing.  NASCAR?  It’s… it’s regional, sir.  If you go to the movies, you open up a magazine, you don’t see good ol’ boys from Winston-Salem.  You see, uh… Sophia Loren… Monica Vitti.  James Bond does not drive a Ford, sir.  Um, just give me one second here, sir.  Just a second, sir.  Sir, if you just bear with me… because we’ve been thinking wrong.  Ferrari.  Now, they have won four out of the last five Le Mans.  We need to think like Ferrari.  Enzo Ferrari will go down in history as the greatest car manufacturer of all time.  Why?  Is it because he built the most cars?  No.  It’s because of what his cars mean.  Victory.  Ferrari wins at Le Mans.  People, they want some of that victory.  What if the Ford badge meant victory?  And meant it where it counts, with the first group of 17-year-olds in history with money in their pockets?  Ferrari’s bankrupt.  Enzo has spent every lira he’s got chasing perfection, and you know something?  He got there.  But now he’s broke.” — Lee Iacocca

“Uh, scusa.  Please, no photos.  Prego.  You gotta understand.  This is like the Mafia showing up to buy the Statue of Liberty.  The press gets wind of this, the shit will hit the Fangio.  Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.  Journalists?  Bellissimo.” — Lee Iacocca

“This merger between our companies will form two entities.  Ford-Ferrari, 90 percent owned by Ford, who control all production.  Secondly, Ferrari-Ford, the race team, 90 percent owned by Ferrari.  In order to secure this, Ford will pay the sum… ah.  Please.  Ah.  Yeah, of course.  Look, in that highly unlikely scenario… if we just can’t agree… then, yes.  I mean, no.  You are correct.  You do not go.” — Lee Iacocca

“He said Ford makes ugly little cars, and we make ’em… in an ugly factory.  He said our executives are sons of whores.  He called you fat, sir.  Pigheaded.  He said you’re not Henry Ford.  You’re Henry Ford II.” — Lee Iacocca

“Carroll Shelby?  Lee Iacocca, Ford Motor.  What’s with the wrench?  Mr. Shelby, I can assure you I’m not here for money that you might owe Ford for spare parts.  No, I’m not.  I’m here on behalf of Mr. Ford, Henry Ford II.  Suppose, um, hypothetically, that he wanted his company to win the 24 Hours of Le Mans.  You’re one of the only Americans so I’m wondering… what’s it take?  Hypothetically.  Money can buy speed.  So you’re saying it’s challenging.  So you don’t think… that Ford Motor Company can build the greatest race car the world’s ever seen?  You think that we are incapable of winning an event like that?  Even if we had a brilliant partner?  Even if we wrote a, uh, blank check?” — Lee Iacocca

“Carroll, what are you doing?  Carroll.  Don, I would say it’s probably a good time to buckle up.  Oh, shit.  God damn it.  Everything all right up there?  No!  Carroll, this is Roy Lunn.  Old Roy here is developing the prototype over in England.  Carroll, allow me to introduce Leo Beebe, senior vice president, Ford Motor.  Yeah.  Uh… Carroll, why don’t we just step this way for a second?  Look, it’s pro forma.  It’s window dressing.  But there’s gotta be a sense of give-and-take between you and… you know.  The group.  Senior creatives, Carroll.  Just to make sure everybody’s comfortable.  You should ttake a look out there, Carroll.  Hmm?  What do you see?  You know what I see?  I see a machine.  I see 10,000 moving parts, moving hopefully in harmony, and it’s my job to make it so.  It’s my job to guide you through it.  I am here to help you, Carroll.  But you gotta trust me.  Carroll… do not step on that stage if you don’t trust me.  He gets the drill.” — Lee Iacocca

Henry Ford II, Ford v Ferrari, Twentieth Century Fox, Chernin Entertainment, Tracy LettsHenry Ford II

“Shut it down, Mr. Beebe.  Hear that?  That’s the sound of the Ford Motor Company… out of business.  In 1899, my grandfather, Henry, by God, Ford… was walking home from Edison Illumination after working a double shift.  He was ruminating.  That morning, he had himself an idea that changed the world.  Sixty-five years and 47 million automobiles later, what shall be his legacy?  Getting it in the tail pipe from a Chevy Impala.  Here’s what I want you to do.  Walk home.  While you’re walking, I want you to ruminate.  Man comes to my office with an idea, that man keeps his job.  Rest of you second-best losers… stay home.  You don’t belong at Ford.” — Henry Ford II

“We’re already in racing, Iacocca.  That’s because he’s a degenerate.  See?  Is this part of it?  Is this going anywhere, Iacocca?  All right, all right, that’s enough.  Turn it off.  Lights.” — Henry Ford II

“What exactly did he say?  About me?  Go on.  I want the best engineers.  The best drivers.  I don’t care what it costs.  We’re gonna build a race car.  And we’re gonna bury that goddamn greasy wop 100 feet deep under the finish line at Le Mans.  And I will be there to watch it.” — Henry Ford II

Peter Miles

“Now, it’s von Trips in the Ferrari, coming into the corkscrew.  He’s braking late.  Oh, sets a new lap record!”

“Yeah!  Ha-ha!  Yeah!  I’ll put the kettle on.  H-A-P-P-Y.  I’m H-A-P-P-Y.”

“Whoa.  Dad, look at that.  The Ford Mustang.  What do you think?  I like it.  Oh.  Sorry.  Dad.  Wait.  Are they crashing?  Who’s the pilot?  Mr. Shelby.  Are you gonna build a car that’s gonna beat Ferrari?  Bye, Mr. Shelby.  What?”

Leo Beebe

“Lee, in the last three years, you and your marketing team… have presided over the worst sales slump in US history.  Why exactly should Mr. Ford listen to you?  Ferrari makes fewer cars in a year than we make in a day.  We spend more on toilet paper than they do on their entire output.  You want us to think like them?  This would take years.  Decades to test and develop… a race team capable of taking out Ferrari.”

“He played us.  Old man Enzo had no intention of selling to us.  He used us to up his price… embarrass our company and insult your leadership.  It was a bad idea from the start.”

“Oh.  Excu… excuse me.  Would you, would you not do that?  Oh, er, is this, is this your son?  Would you ask him to keep his hands off the paintwork?  Leo Beebe, senior executive vice president, Ford Motor Company.  I’m responsible for the launch of the Mustang.  Leo.  Thank you for coming.  We, uh… we met.  So, you two get a chance to talk on the phone?  What’d he say?”

Don Frey

“I don’t know.”

“Relax, will you?  Kind of the opposite, actually.”

“Does he know how to fly?  Oh, no.  Oh, no.  Oh, shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.”

Enzo Ferrari

“I’m starving.  Let’s go eat.”

Franco Gozzi

“Franco Gozi, Ferrari.  No, no, Mr. Iacocca, no.  It’s our cameras.  Just for history.  Four-liter Colombo engine.  One man assembles the entire engine by himself.  Another man assembles the transmission.  Everything hand-built.  Racing Department.  Excuse me.  Pronto.  Pronto.  Do you have something to say?”

Gianni Agnelli

“Yes, I am here.  Enzo maintains full control.  I get the company for 18 million.”

Italian Translator

“He will need some time to read this.”

Italian Translator 2

“‘Gentlemen, one small question.  It concerns my race program.  If I wish to race Le Mans, and you do not wish for me to race Le Mans… do we or do we not go?’  ‘My integrity as a constructor, as a man, as an Italian, is deeply insulted by your proposal.  Go back to Michigan.  Back to your big, ugly factory.  Back to your big, ugly factory, making its ugly, little cars.  Tell your pigheaded boss that all his, uh, smug executives are worthless sons of whores.  Tell him he’s not Henry Ford.  He’s Henry Ford II.'”

Fiat Dude

“I’m looking for the chairman of Fiat!  Agnelli!  I have photographs for you to see.”

Charlie Agapiou

“I’m so sorry, girls.”

“Oh, here they come now.”

Ford Mustang Speaker

“This is the car you never expected from Detroit.”

Shelby American customer (Wyatt)

“Far out.  How’s she handle a quarter mile?  Is that good?  You take cash?  Is cash okay?  All right.”

Roy Lunn

“Welcome to the madhouse, Mr. Shelby.  Ford rolled out the entire executive committee for this one.”

Rando Kid

“Here they come.  Go, go, go, go.”

Girls

“Assholes.  You’re really pathetic.”

Pilot (Steve)

“There’s Cloverfield, Mr. Shelby.  Uh… you’re kidding.  Okay.”

Ford Executive

“God, I’d like to be a degenerate.”

Ford Executive 2

“Lee.  That’s him.”

Gary

“Something’s up.”

Ford Employee 1

“Hi, Lee.”

Ford Employee 2

“Listen, he isn’t as sure as you are about the banks.”

Ford Employee 3

“I’m not as sure about this…”

Ford Employee 4

“How’s this going out?”

Ford Employee 6

“Mr. Ford, welcome to the room.  Good afternoon, Mr. Ford.”

Ford Employee 7

“Nice to see you, sir.”

Ford Foreman

“All stop.”

Bob

“Hey, Phil.  Is Shelby here?”

Willow Springs Commentator

“Hey, dad, before the race starts, take your son to the Willow Springs… hey, folks, feeling hungry?  Head on over to the snack bar… welcome to the 1963 Willow Springs 100.  Twelve cars will be competing in this 40-lap race.  Well, it looks like we’re about to begin.  The cars have completed their warm-up lap.  The green flag is out… and they’re approaching the starting line.  Ken Miles has fallen behind.  Nice move from Ken Miles.  Twenty-two laps remaining.  It’s been an incredible day here at Willow Springs, and we’ve seen some exciting driving.  With just one lap remaining in this 40-lap race, we’re coming to the final stretch.  Dan Gurney has been leading the pack for most of the… number 18, Red Faris, is off the track.  That leaves Dan Gurney off the track followed by journeyman Ken Miles.  And they’re coming around the last turn.  Gurney is still in the lead with Ken Miles hot on his heels.  Miles is looking for an opening.  Can Gurney hold him off in the final straight.  Gurney is blocking him out.  Miles goes for the shoulder.  They’re wheel to wheel.  It’s Corvette versus Cobra for the finish.  An incredible finish for Ken Miles.  Didn’t see that one coming.  Let’s give everyone a hand for one heck of a race.”

Lance Reventlow

“Ah, Shelby.  Pops.  Allow me to introduce Dieter Voss.  Runs Brumos Porsche out of Jacksonville.  Oh, I’ve driven more behind him than against him.”

Dieter Voss

“You’re having a hell of a season with that Abarth, sir.  Seeing results for your Cobra, too.  Your guys Miles is impressive.  Oh, yes.  Well, Brumos is looking for a driver for our number two car at Sebring.  Think your guy Miles can make the grade?  He’s difficult but good.”

Bob Bondurant

“We heard he’s, uh, difficult.”

Sam

“So, Shelby, do you miss it?  Guy wins the 24-hour Le Mans, suddenly retires, starts selling cars.  It just don’t make sense.  Well, unless the rumors are true, of course.  That Caroll Shelby quit driving ’cause he lost his nerve.”

SCCA (Bill)

“Paragraph 15.4, section 2b of the SCCA standard dictates all AF class cars must have minimum trunk space of 20 inches by 12 inches by six inches.  Your trunk doesn’t close.  Ergo car fails standard.  Ergo car is disqualified from said Class A Competition.  All right, that’s it.  I’m ruling you and your team disqualified from this race.  Discretionary infraction.  You’re holding the ’62 edition of the SCCA.  Yes, he does.  I’m just doing my job here.”

Mustang Speaker

“Please welcome Mr. Carroll Shelby.”

IRS Agent

“Uh, yes, is Ken Miles here?”

Dan Gurney

“Hey, Ken, what happened to your shield?”

Jim

“What?”

Fan

“Mr. Shelby, can I get an autograph?  Number 614.  Thank you so much.”

Wayne

“Hey, I called you three times, no, sir, you don’t.  No, you don’t.  A month ago, this car was fun.  Now, it won’t even start.  And when it does, it’s ‘boom, boom, boom!’  When I pull out of the driveway, the dog has a heart attack.  All I’m asking is for you to make it like it was.  The way it’s being driven?  You wanna run that by me in English?  Are you telling me I don’t know how to drive my own car?  You and me have a problem, buddy?  Screw you, you limey prick.  I want my money back.  This country, the customer’s always right.  You ever hear that?”

Le Mans Commentator

“This is live coverage of the 1959 24 Hours of Le Mans.  We’ve reached the halfway point and so far witness Aston Martin number 5, driven by Carroll Shelby, making great gains in the last hour.  If he keeps this pace up, he could have a chance at the… Aston Martin number 5, driven by Carroll Shelby, has maintained his lead as we’re nearing the final minutes of the race.  The checkered flag is out.  The crowd are on their feet.  …takes the title!  An American wins Le Mans.”

Pit Engineer

“He’s coming in.  He’s coming in.  Let’s go, let’s go.  Let’s go, let’s go.  I know you’re tired, but come on, let’s make this fast.  Move, move, move!  Grab the blanket!  You okay?  Shelby, you just– no, you’re not on fire.  Fill the tank.  Two laps up, my friend.  Go get ’em.”

Dr. Granger

“Shelby.  Shelby.  Shelby.  Carroll Shelby.  This is something you can’t ignore anymore.  An elevated heart rate, say 130 BPM, sustained even for a short period, you run a critical risk of cardiac arrest.  That’s not gonna work.  The valve is shot, Shelby.  This is as serious as it gets.  In my opinion, you’re lucky to be sitting here today.”

Crew Member

“Tires!  Fire!  The fuel!  Fire!  Shelby, it’s you.  Fill the tank.”

Crew Member 2

“Get it ready!”

Crew Member 3

“Car’s yours.”

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