More grit than glitz in female motorsport's answer to Drive to Survive

Telegraph

2 days ago

Netflix's fly-on-the-wall documentary Formula 1: Drive to Survive has been such a success that sports have fallen over themselves to try to cash in on the back of it. The latest to allow cameras on the grid is F1: The Academy.
The stage is almost the same, even if the story is not. The F1 Academy, under managing director Susie Wolff, has been established to nurture young female talent, and the series is produced by Reese Witherspoon's production company Hello Sunshine.
Unlike F1, it is not a career in itself. Drivers must be aged between 16 and 25 and are only allowed to race for two seasons, with just the winner awarded a fully-funded seat in GB3 – the next rung in the ladder before the heights of F2, or even F1.
The differences between F1 Academy and Formula One are stark. There are no Monaco penthouses and only one clip of drivers cruising to a track in a luxury vehicle. It might be the pinnacle of female motorsport, but there is a long way to go for the drivers to have more than just a taste of the riches on offer.
Instead, drivers live with their managers and only a few have the luxury of an entourage. The documentary will leave even those few who believe the sport is open to all convinced of the barriers. Abbi Pulling, the British driver, cannot afford to have her father fly out and watch while merchandise shoots are a necessity – as she bluntly explains, it helps her pay rent.
Wolff says she wants F1 Academy to be a 'movement not a moment', but for those in their final season of the competition there is the constant uncertainty of what the future holds.
Pulling's story is one of sacrifice, from her father working seven days a week to fund her karting career to an honest reflection that if she does not win in her final F1 Academy year – and therefore misses out on the GB3 place – that might be the end of her racing journey.
Pulling, who does go on to win and is now competing in GB3, says: 'I'm a woman in a man's world trying to prove herself. That's why Mulan is my favourite movie.'
It is a harsh reality that contrasts sharply with the glitz and glamour that comes with racing in F1 teams' liveries, on the same weekends and at the same track as the flagship races. As Wolff states plainly: 'If you can't cut it in F1 Academy, there's not going to be much of a career in motorsport left for you.'
In F1, even drivers who do not make the cut after a year or two are still compensated heavily, but reaching F1 Academy does not pay the bills. Bianca Bustamante, a driver from the Philippines, boasts more than three million followers on social media, and more on Instagram than F1 driver Liam Lawson. She is mobbed at races, with endless requests for selfies, especially when in Singapore, and her McLaren aide worries how her social media posts and marketing affect her racing – her season is one of pitfalls.
In a later episode Mercedes's Toto Wolff, in one of a handful of brief appearances by F1 team principals, says: 'This is not an influencer racing series. Only the best ones must survive.'
In the seven-part series, only five stories are really explored – Bustamante, Pulling, Mercedes driver Doriane Pin, sisters Hamda and Amna Al Qubaisi from Dubai, and American rally driver turned track racer Lia Block.
Those tuning in expecting another version of the abrasive rivalries between drivers and team principles that are the cornerstone of Drive to Survive will find themselves disappointed. The first episode, titled Not here to make friends, is little more than words as the drivers throw each other birthday parties and take group excursions into the desert. On track there is some frustration, but usually by drivers at their own mistakes, and of course there are a few tears as well.
Susie Wolff closes off the season by saying: 'I've driven a Formula One car, and fast. I know it's possible and I want to see a young woman on that grid.' Yet the question remains: is it possible?