How Drive to Survive has moved away from its origins

What's the best thing that has happened in F1 since Liberty Media took over? Most casual fans and maybe even many paddock insiders would probably answer the Netflix series Drive to Survive.

To the uninitiated, F1 can seem hard to penetrate and it's not particularly interesting to watch if you don't know the context or have a deep understanding of the drivers or what goes into running a team. Drive to Survive is part of Liberty's strategy to attract new fans and it proudly claims that 52% of new F1 fans since it took over the sport are under 35, which is critical to the championship's long-term health.

The great achievement of the first season of Drive to Survive was to enlarge the cast of characters we're interested in, beyond the top drivers. Although the producers were unhappy Ferrari and Mercedes chose not to take part it actually worked out well because that gave a chance for audiences to get to know characters such as Kevin Magnussen and Gunther Steiner.

The original intention of F1's then commercial boss Sean Bratches when he went for this Netflix series, over a rival bid from Amazon, was to "treat all our children the same", meaning to give equal coverage to all the teams and drivers.

But the producers have strayed from that brief and the ten episodes this season don't cover the ten individual teams; instead they focus on specific themes and strangely ignore quite a few drivers. The producers love Daniel Ricciardo, Alex Albon, Carlos Sainz, Pierre Gasly, the Haas drivers, Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc. Daniil Kvyat, Sergio Pérez, Lance Stroll, Kimi Räikkönen, Lando Norris and Antonio Giovinazzi may as well not exist.

Where the series works best is where it highlights personal rivalries or juxtaposes two connected storylines. A good example of that would be the season one episode that focused on Christian Horner and Cyril Abiteboul.

Horner delights in embarrassing the Frenchman by announcing that Red Bull will be dropping the "underperforming" Renault engines for 2019, but later in the episode Abiteboul has the last laugh when he poaches Horner's driver Ricciardo.

This perfectly sets up an episode in Season Two where the producers look at the contrasting fortunes of Gasly and Albon.

Wolff is shown reflecting on Lauda fondly: "I find myself looking at the pictures and having tears in my eyes every half an hour"

The Ricciardo swoop leaves Horner needing a driver and so Red Bull promotes Gasly, who had a strong debut season with Toro Rosso. But it soon becomes clear that he isn't ready. Red Bull has always proudly been a "sink or swim" environment.

But drivers aren't all the same; they need different amounts of development time before they are ready to shine and quite a few promising drivers have been lost from the Red Bull programme as a result. Gasly almost becomes another casualty as Horner describes him as the "Achilles Heel" of the team before demoting him in the summer to Toro Rosso.

The producers benefit greatly here from the fact that F1 has always thrown up plenty of real drama and naturally occurring plot twists. For decades Bernie Ecclestone's genius was to know how to exploit this.

The twist here is that Albon's step up to the Red Bull team and Gasly's demotion at Spa coincides with the death of their friend Anthoine Hubert in the F2 race on Saturday afternoon. Undaunted, both drivers climb into their cars the following day and race at the absolute limit, taking huge risks. It is stirring stuff and reminds us why we love grand prix racing.

Their explanations of why they don't have any doubt or fear about doing that, so soon after a young colleague's life has been lost, are moving and eloquent and in step with generations of drivers before them.

Motorsport has always been difficult and dangerous and a large part of its appeal for drivers and fans alike is that death is always lurking, though mercifully rare these days.

Having been given access to Ferrari and Mercedes in season two, the way the producers treat the two teams is interesting. With Ferrari they maintain a certain detachment, not seeking to explore the mystique of the Ferrari brand in any way; instead they focus on Leclerc and Vettel, with a simple master and apprentice narrative.

Mercedes, in contrast, is presented at the start of its episode as a military force. Toto Wolff notes that "F1 is like war planning". This is intercut with shots of him addressing the huge Brackley workforce stretched out as far as the eye can see, all wearing identical white shirts. "Let's crush them!" he says to applause from the massed ranks. It sets the team up as a Panzer division.

But a couple of minutes later, as the narrative shifts to Niki Lauda's death on the eve of the Monaco GP, Wolff is shown reflecting on Lauda fondly: "I find myself looking at the pictures and having tears in my eyes every half an hour."

Netflix and Mercedes selected the German GP for their 'behind the scenes' race and it was of course a complete disaster: Hamilton and Bottas both crashed, throwing away the chance to win on Mercedes' 125th anniversary event. It didn't help the team was dressed up in retro costumes.

The standout scene of the whole series is post-race in the Mercedes debrief room. Hamilton is a broken man after crashing out of the lead and then losing a minute in the pitlane as the team fumbles over what tyre set to fit while changing the front wing. He cannot understand his mistake or come to terms with it.

The risk is that as Netflix has become part of the scene itself, it has lost that some of that detached perspective that made season one so unique

"I'm so fucking sorry," Hamilton tells Wolff. "I'm distraught."

He's suddenly vulnerable; a soon-to-be six-time world champion, the greatest driver of his generation, standing like a child, stroking his face, is a classic tell of insecurity and desire to reassure oneself.

Of course what makes this pure TV gold is the unique access Netflix gets, far superior to anything granted to Sky or the other major broadcasters, who pay much higher rights fees. This has caused some tensions with Liberty, although the broadcasters recognise the job the Netflix series is doing for the sport.

Watching Drive to Survive you realise it wins hands down over the live broadcast because the producers have both the access and the time to reflect. Netflix tells a more authentic story which makes it so appealing. It can access the meaningful radio conversations between the teams and the drivers, which don't always come across on live TV.

When you think all of this through you see that TV commentators and viewers are effectively "outsiders", only getting a small part of the story. This is something F1 will now need to address for the live TV coverage.

It can also learn from the emphasis on engagement in the camerawork; shots of the mechanics and engineers watching races are closer up and more personal than the live TV coverage, so emotions are more raw and you can really feel how committed and engaged the support teams are.

While I enjoyed season two hugely and could watch it many times, I have three criticisms.
The first is that it is very male dominated. Of course this reflects the sport to some extent, but in reality it's less so these days than comes across here.

Another would be that a great opportunity is missed to run some sustainability narrative through the story and drop in references for the casual fans about how F1 is a research lab for the automotive industry, driving the amazing efficiency of the hybrid engines. It only needs the odd beat here and there to plant an important message in audiences' minds.

Finally, the producers seem to have fallen into a classic trap, one hard to avoid for newcomers. In year two they've been drawn into the world of F1 as they've got to hang out with the people. The risk is that as Netflix has become part of the scene itself, it has lost that some of that detached perspective that made season one so unique.

And quite frankly, there is too much racing in it. I never thought I'd hear myself say that.