Articles from 2000
Sydney's Spectacular Show
SFGate | September 16, 2000
When cute 13- year-old Nikki Webster started the show by stepping to the middle of Olympic Stadium, flashing an ethereal smile, and suddenly shooting 100 feet into the air and began doing back flips, it was clear we were heading into something completely different. We're not in Atlanta any more, Toto.
“I wasn't scared at all,” said Nikki, who spent much of the program suspended high above the crowd hooked to a harness and a wire. “I was just having heaps and heaps of fun.''
So was everyone else, with the possible exception of Nikki's parents, who had been kept in the dark about her high-flying stunts. She told them it “wouldn't be a surprise” if she told them what she would be doing. Asked how they reacted after watching her sail clear up above the cheap seats with only a harness to hold her, Nikki said they were “both in tears.” So we can assume they were surprised.
It was simply the best Opening Ceremony in at least 20 years, and maybe ever. More than 100,000 amazed spectators witnessed the coolest music, the most incredible dance numbers and the most original lighting of the Olympic flame this side of Juan Antonio Samaranch. In short, it was what the Orange Bowl halftime would be if they had as much talent as money.
HISTORY AT THE GAMES
It takes something to make a footnote of the historic uniting of North and South Korea to march into the stadium together, but what are you going to do? Somewhere between the topless Aboriginal dancers and the guy playing a fiddle on the back of a rolling, fire-breathing windmill, you began to wonder if we were ever going to get back to the Olympics. And then you began to wonder if we wanted to.
For one night, the athletes were almost upstaged. But the key word is "almost.'' They pulled it all together at the end, managing to pull off an honest-to-dingo surprise when 400 meter gold medal favorite Cathy Freeman stepped out of the crowd of athletes in the infield to light the Olympic cauldron.
(There was a bad moment at that point, when the complicated waterfall/elevator mechanism that would take the flame to the top of the stands shuddered and stopped, but just when everyone had given up, it sputtered to life and finished the job after all. No worries, mate. Didn't we tell you, this is the lucky country?)
Choosing Freeman was calculated inspiration, of course. First, she is the brightest Australian star from here to the Great Barrier Reef (equally famous swimmers like Ian Thorpe could not attend because their events begin immediately). But Freeman is also an Aborigine, wrapping up a theme of inclusion that was obviously much on the minds of those who put the extravaganza together.
The easy way out, naturally, would have been a jolly group of kids in bush hats singing something harmless like the ``G'day Song.'' That's pretty much the standard for this kind of thing, especially when the Games are in the United States.
Instead, the Aussies tried for something grand, mystical, and -- stop the presses -- meaningful. And damned if they didn't pull it off. In all, there were 12,500 dancers, acrobats, and fire breathers who had obviously been drilled to within an inch of their lives. And the amazing part is that you couldn't spot a soul who was just mailing it in. Everyone was selling it like crazy, looking delighted to have a part.
CROWD CAPTIVATED
By the first production number, when Webster soared above the crowd, chased by 30-foot floating fish, the crowd was totally into the show. They waved their flashlights on cue, held up flashing armbands and at the end, passed a huge flag through the stands over their heads, although none of them knew they were going to be part of the show. They sang along with ``Waltzing Matilda,'' swayed in unison to the music, and when there was a moment of silence, started a chorus of the Australian national cheer: "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie! Oi, Oi, Oi!'' Maybe you had to be there.
A large part of the program was turned over to the dance, music, and culture of the Aborigines. A long, powerful segment called "awakening,'' featured "songman'' Reginald Nundihirribala. There were chants, stilt walkers and ghostly dancers. It isn't often you can see something you have never seen before in your life, but there it was, unfolding before your eyes.
It is easy, you know, to walk around Sydney, see a McDonald's on every corner and a bunch of kids riding Razor scooters, and decide that this is nothing but America with an accent. Watch a show like this and you are reminded that there are depths to the Australian culture that we haven't begun to understand. Which was probably the point.
PROGRAM WENT ON FOREVER
It should be said, however, that this may have been the most entertaining Opening Ceremony for eons, but it was also one of the longest. By the time the athletes finally began to enter the stadium, the crowd had heard Olivia Newton John, seen most of the history of the settling of Australia enacted and heard a gigantic marching band, 2000 strong.
But as always, the simple parade of the countries had a dignity of its own. When North and South Korea was introduced, the crowd rose and roared and the athletes and team officials were so caught up in the moment that they forgot to march for a moment, standing on the track, holding hands, and soaking in the applause.
At the end there was the Australian team throwing toy kangaroos to the crowd, fireworks, and the blaze of the Olympic flame in the night as the stadium emptied. Now the Games begin. And they had better be good. Because this is going to be hard to top.
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