![]() ![]() Towards the end someone poisons him with a doctored pizza and you think, yeah, well, OK.īut again, this is fine. Mike is shown watching on a tablet, hooting and laughing. #Barney min dancing ballet proThere are moments where some merely-very-good pro basketball player talks about a defining moment in his life, the one game where he made some small mark on greatness. “From that point on our relationship dramatically improved,” Steve confirms. Later Jordan punches small, kindly Steve (“I hit him right in the fucking eye”), wants to apologise, doesn’t actually have his teammate’s number, but finally convinces Steve that he, Michael, is actually cool with it all so basically STFU. ![]() As they walk off Jordan tells him: “Don’t ever talk trash to black Jesus.” ![]() ![]() Miller gets turned over in the final quarter. At one point Reggie Miller recalls, with awed amusement, playing Jordan in his rookie year. In fact this is in many ways the best part of the film.Īnd let’s be clear, Jordan is a wonderful dick. Is Jordan, the man-turned-logo, the inspiration to millions, actually a bit of a dick? The answer is obvious. But it does lead us back to that first question. I wanted Michael to distrust me, to hate me but finally, and through gritted teeth, to admit that he grudgingly respects me.Īdmittedly, this probably won’t end up happening. In fact I wanted to be friends with all of them. And obviously there’s Dennis Rodman just for the sheer luminous glory, the perfect blend of hard-headed elite dedication and going to the wrestling and pretending to hit someone with a chair. Then there’s mild, steely Steve Kerr, who looks like a small-town orthodontist but appears also to be one of the nicest hypercompetitive athletes to have walked the earth. First up there’s Scottie Pippen, the heart of the film, who has something irresistibly stern and upright about him and who is said to be disappointed, no doubt in that weary frontier-preacher kind of way, by his own portrayal. As it progressed I found myself consumed with affection for assorted New Favourite Guys among the relentlessly charismatic array of former players. It is easy to get carried away by this richness. Towards the end someone poisons him with a doctored pizza and you think, yeah, well, OK It is, whatever else, a love letter to its sport. #Barney min dancing ballet seriesThis is what the series gives you: a lavish, beautifully constructed courtside seat. The beauty of basketball lies in its interlocking details, the way players, skills, tactics and backstories elide in a snapshot, creating that dizzyingly rich athletic ballet. The storytelling is thrillingly detailed, and performative too. The Last Dance is a sensationally good sports film whatever the answers to these questions. Is Michael Jordan actually a hypercompetitive sociopath? Is the greatest athlete in modern American sport some kind of superstar bully?Īnd secondly, is this actually a documentary film at all, given Jordan’s editorial control, or just a hugely enjoyable advert for shoes?įirst up, it is worth stating the obvious. The first is the issue raised this week by former teammate Horace Grant, and indeed, sotto voce, by the film itself. Partly this is wrapped up in the simple pleasure of observing a certain type of high-grade, tearfully earnest American sports journalist address their subject, the kind of American journalist who talks about sport as though it’s a cross between the moon landings and a childhood trauma on a fishing trip.Īdd to this reverent tone the fact that Jordan is also a cultural icon, that to offer even tempered praise is to take a stance against a certain kind of orthodoxy. As a long-distance fan it has been fascinating to watch this play out. ![]()
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