Why you should watch The Least Expected Day

THE LEAST EXPECTED DAY IS A BEAUTIFUL, COMPELLING, BUT OCCASIONALLY FRUSTRATING CYCLING DOCO WE DESPERATELY NEED

Words - James Raison


For those unaware, The Least Expected Day is a Netflix produced documentary series focusing on the Movistar Team’s 2019 Grand Tour campaigns. Now, you can be forgiven for being totally unaware of it because it launched with little fanfare, and on a personal note, Netflix’s algorithm buried it for me. C’mon Netflix, you know I’ve watched Howl’s Moving Castle 3 times now. Suggest something else.

I am a sucker for a good sports story/documentary. From Drive to Survive, to HBO’s Hard Knocks, NFL Network’s A Football Life, and the outstanding Freakonomics Radio “How Sports Became Us” series, there’s undeniable allure to sports narritives. Every human emotion is amplified by the high stakes, high pressure, and broadcast to the world. I can’t get enough of it.

So I wanted to take a dive into The Least Expected Day. A series that, right now in 2020, fills the gaping void of cycling content (outside of the insufferable Contador V Armstrong storyline that won’t die, and reporting on every pro pedal stroke on Zwift) but offers a glimmer of hope that the pro cycling world figures out what audiences want. It’s far from perfect though, and given this is Netflix’s first crack at the cycling world, I wanted to discuss its qualities and the ways it could be better. So let’s dig in!

Just a note; apologies for the lack of images in this article. It’s basically impossible to find any media assets to use.

WHAT IT GIVES US

I want to start by saying; you absolutely should watch The Least Expected Day. It’s a fantastic, but occasionally restricted, look behind the curtain of the Movistar team’s 2019 campaign. Below is what it does well.

BEAUTY

Cycling is an incomparably gorgeous sport and The Least Expected Day made me sorely miss all the racing we’ve missed out on already, and will likely miss out on in the coming months. The Least Expected Day mixes Grand Tour Footage with some gorgeous B-Roll of riders training on deserted Spanish mountain roads, and some creative product shots. There’s some all-too-brief visits to Ecuador and Colombia too.

It does get a little too much at times, with recycled shots getting tiresome a few episodes in. The Least Expected Day will suck you in with its early production value before having you roll your eyes at yet another tight close-up of a helmet sitting on a sparsely furnished hotel bedside table. Or a Campagnolo wheel spinning in a trainer-mounted bike. I do have an uncanny desire to buy Abus products though... Dammit, the marketing works!

POTENTIAL DIVERSITY IN CYCLING’S TERRIBLE BUSINESS MODEL

2020 is likely to crumble the critically shaky and vulnerable business model of cycling. The uncomfortable argument being made by some is a lost Tour de France could unravel pro cycling. There’s grim rumors circulating of sponsors looking to abandon ship, potentially taking the teams with them.

The Least Expected Day, especially when hosted on the vast Netflix platform, brings access to millions of eyeballs. It vastly increases the value proposition to sponsors with a much wider spectrum of viewers from the cycling faithful to the more casual viewer. Ongoing access to the content will keep delivering value over time so long as it stays available. I certainly got sick of the re-used footage but it was constant brand reinforcement for Abus, Canyon, Fizik, and Campagnolo. It is undeniably valuable marketing though.

Shows like The Least Expected Day get even the biggest brands in the world paying attention. I was struck by the glaring absence of Ferrari and Mercedes teams and Season 1 of Drive to Survive (they refused involvement), and thoroughly unsurprised by their participation in Season 2. The show’s second season was streamed in 1 million UK homes in its first 28 days. Those are monster numbers for a single country, in a short time period. Suddenly everyone wants to be involved, enriching the content and compounding its value.

That’s the potential in something like The Least Expected Day. Cycling desperately needs this kind of market penetration and diversity to survive into the future.

A NEW HERO

Richard Carapaz comes away from the occasionally messy documentary almost sparkling clean (but for some late episode ire from Movistar management) and infinitely likeable. Much of the early episodes follow his phenomenal, instinctive, confident, and unexpected victory at the Giro d’Italia. He took an underdog victory with the opportunism and bravery we all want to see more of.

More than that, we visit his high-altitude-Ecuadorian farming roots, meet his parents, and learn his cycling obsession came from digging a bike out of scrap metal his father was hauling. Documentaries like this allow us to see more humanity in athletes. You see them without the de-humanising helmets, glasses, and funny clothes.

Then he joined team Ineos. Please don’t ruin him Ineos.

A MORE SYMPATHETIC LOOK AT MIKEL LANDA

I love watching Mikel Landa race. His climbing abilities are some of the best in the world despite not stringing together a Grand Tour as team leader. There’s plenty of speculation that he’s not a very good teammate though, fueled by his constant moves between teams. The Least Expected Day presents him with more complexity; a rider endlessly searching for total control of a team to support his ambitions but not quite delivering when he has it. The 2019 Giro d’Italia is a perfect example.

One thing’s for sure; his teammates seem to love him. The Movistar veterans heaped praise on him as a rider, racer, and teammate in a brief section towards the end of The Least Expected Day.

WHAT IT WAS MISSING

The Least Expected Day gets plenty right, but by series end I was left wanting so much more from it. I can’t shake the feeling that it should have been better.

NARRATIVE DEPTH

There’s a pervading feeling that the Movistar team had a little too much say in the final product. There’s too many under-told stories.

The 6-episode season barely scratched the surface of Movistar’s chaotic 2019 season. Despite it dominating the run-time, I would’ve happily spent more time unpacking the extraordinary performance at the Giro d’Italia. The series then rushed through the bizarre Tour de France and Vuelta Espana.

Only cursory mentions are made of Mikel Landa’s move to Bahrain McLaren. Richard Carapaz’s move to Ineos is given some contentious minutes right at the end, with Nairo Quintana’s move to Arkea Samsic given the most airtime because nobody was pointing the finger of blame. Nairo, it seems, simply wanted a change of scenery.

Movistar has been a consistent, albeit sometimes underperforming, counter-balance to the Sky/Ineos dominance of recent years. They’ve always had phenomenally talented domestiques but their leadership hemorrhage at the end of 2019 was catastrophic and we don’t get many answers from The Least Expected Day. There’s ample allusions to fracturing relationships but you can’t help but feel the team stymied the narrative freedom to tell the whole story. That said, we are given an extensive look into the drama with Marc Soler’s attempt to take a stage at the Vuelta, ending in on-road fury from him, and some serious car-punching from DS.

SATISFYING LONGEVITY

The Least Expected Day focuses almost exclusively on the Grand Tours. That’s a little disappointing given how long and varied the cycling calendar is. I’d have loved some more episodes to flesh out the rest of the calendar. As it stands, we’re left feeling like the season started mid-Spring classics and ends at the Vuelta. I’ll say again, there should have been more time paid to the rider movements to-and-from the team.

MOMENTS OF LEVITY

The drama and tension of racing, the anger and joy screamed from inside the vehicles, and the earnest soundtrack are lacking something critical; fun. There’s precious little in the way of lighter moments and you feel the lack of light and shade in the mood.

This documentary takes itself far too seriously. The beautiful visuals, moody soundtrack, and earnest training footage give only occasional hints that these people enjoy riding their bikes. I would’ve traded some of the passion for the occasional joke.

Or more footage from the Tour of Colombia. That is seriously some of the best racing you’ll see coupled with some of the most bonkers fans. It’s the best. Here’s an example;

WRAPPING UP

As said above, you absolutely should watch this series. Despite its problems there’s plenty for action-starved cycling fans to feast on. It’s access to a team the English-speaking world will always find a little inaccessible because of the language barrier.

Let’s cross all of our fingers this won’t be the last time we see Netflix follow the world of Pro Cycling.

Head on over to Netflix to check out the full series.

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