**Spoiler Alert**
Director: Stephen Hopkins/Starring: Stephan James, Jason Sudeikis, Jeremy Irons, William Hurt, Carice van Houten, Barnaby Metschurat and Shanice Banton
I'm always leery of Hollywood sports biopics. They always seem to slide into sentimental, Disney-esque, feel-good tripe. I had such misgivings before I saw Race; director Stephen Hopkins' film on the great Jesse Owens, who electrified the world by winning four gold medals at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. But I discovered the film had greater ambitions and though it celebrates Owen's triumphant displays of athleticism, it doesn't cower from what much of the film is about: racism and discrimination. And though we expect to see scenes of ugly, race hatred in Nazi Germany, Hopkins' story doesn't let America off the hook for its own appalling race relations. As stated in the film, the situation for blacks in Germany was hardly different than in the states, where institutionalized racism was the norm.
But what is surprising about Hopkins' moving film is that it is really three stories in one; all reflecting an overarching racial theme. One of course is Jesse Owens' Olympian feats; another is American Olympic committee representative Avery Brundage (Jeremy Irons) and his struggle to keep America from boycotting the Berlin Games while yet another story depicts legendary German filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl's efforts to make her now famous Olympic film. Riefenstahl, played with gusto by Carice van Houten, encounters the formidable, Nazi propaganda machine in the form of sinister Joseph Goebbels; who is intent on using the games to promote the party's platform on Aryan, racial superiority. The film is aptly christened, for the word race applies to the story in several ways.
Another film featuring several narrative streams might lose sight of one at the expense of another. Hopkins and screenwriters Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse manage to make the plot and its subplots cohere into one affective story and in the process we learn much about the racial politics surrounding the '36 Olympics.
The story doesn't begin with Owens' childhood but the days leading up to his departure for Ohio State University. Early on we get a glimpse of his family life, where the struggle to make ends meet in Depression-era Cleveland is a constant. Owens' opportunity to attend college is made possible by his astonishing high school track and field accomplishments.
After Owens (Stephan James) arrives on the University campus, he meets the track and field coach Larry Snyder (Jason Sudeikis); whose own Olympian opportunity was dashed by an accident that left unable to compete in the 1924 Games. In the awkward first meeting, Snyder offers Owens a chance to make the Olympic team for the Berlin games, which are several years in the future. Owens immediately accepts but neglects to mention his girlfriend and his child, who he must support with his meager gas station pay. But though Owens promises Snyder he will devote the majority of his time to track and field, he finds the demands of supporting his child and girlfriend Ruth (Shanice Banton) and attending track practice to be overwhelming. Snyder is irked to find Owens neglected to divulge his family situation but is nevertheless sympathetic; securing him a bogus campus job for a livable wage that will allow him more track time.
The early scenes between Owens and Snyder are bracing for their tension, as the coach's past and his heavy drinking clash with Owens frustrations with campus bigotry and Ohio's own brand of segregation. We see that Jim Crow attitudes and practices were hardly relegated to the south
While Owens becomes a college track star, shattering NCAA records, another drama unfolds in the American Olympic headquarters in New York as the committee members debate the pros and cons of boycotting the Berlin Games. Citing the Nazi's virulent anti-semitism, committee member Jeremiah Mahoney (William Hurt) pushes for non-participation while Avery Brundage holds the position that beating the Nazis' could be a cogent act of defiance and a way to discredit their claims about a master race.
In later scenes, we see Brundage arrive in Berlin to secure a promise from Nazi Propaganda Minister Joseph Goebbels (a chilling Barnaby Metschurat) that the Reich will clean up its act and support a racially inclusive Olympics. At the meeting is Riefenstahl, who acts as translator for Goebbels. Brundage gets tough, threatening to keep America out of the Olympics if the Minister doesn't comply. Securing a promise, Brundage returns to America. But during another meeting with Goebbels, he forms a business deal that will later haunt him.
Riefenstahl herself butts heads with Goebbels, whose impatience with the filmmaker makes progress on her Olympic film exceedingly difficult.
Owens faces considerable pressure at home from those who believe he should boycott the Games and those, like Snyder, who feel he should compete. An official from the NAACP visits Owens, urging him not to participate to show solidarity for the those suffering discrimination in Germany. Though he actually agrees to the boycott, the opportunity to compete ultimately proves overpowering.
The Games themselves become a showcase for Owens' brilliance as he easily wins the 100 and 200 meter events. But during the long jump, he accidentally scratches his first attempt then fouls his second attempt before the German long jumper, Luz Long (David Kross), offers him a helpful way to avoid scratching the third time. Owens and Long then engage in a long-jumping duel where both break the previous Olympic record before Owens ultimately prevails. Owens thanks Long after and the exchange becomes the basis of a friendship that lasts beyond the games. Though Owens friendship with Long smacks of plot contrivance, their mutual fondness and admiration was, in fact, real, which makes a powerful statement on its own about racial harmony.
Before the American Jewish track participants can compete in the 4 by 100 relay, Goebbels coerces Brundage into striking them from the race, creating another politically sticky situation. Owens is asked to run in their place but only does so after the runners give their consent. His participation in the relay helps the team win first place and his fourth gold medal but it also provides the Jewish runners a degree of satisfaction.
In the final, heartbreaking scenes, we see how more degradation is visited upon Owens when he returns home. At an event in his honor, Owens and Ruth and Snyder and his girlfriend arrive for the fete but before the group can gain access, the doorman prevents Owens from entering through the main door; directing him instead to the building's side entrance.
The incident is but one indignity Owens endured, for the closing subtitles inform us that Owens' achievement wasn't recognized by the American government until 1990.
I found the film to be very entertaining and often very moving. Though I wouldn't go so far to call it an artistic achievement, it still stands as a poignant portrait of Owens and his times. We can credit the filmmakers for not white-washing history with candy-apple revisionism. The film is keen to remind us that America's race relations were no better than Nazi Germany's.
I like that the film broadened its narrative scope to include Brundage's role in ensuring America's participation in the Games without air-brushing his dark dealings with Goebbels. I also think it was inspired to include the making of Leni Riefenstahl's film as part of the story. In defiance of the Nazi Party ethos, we see her celebrate Owens athletic prowess on film as he reenacts his record-setting long jumps for her camera.
What is supposed to be an event free of politics and racial bigotry was anything but in 1936, as Hopkins' film effectively testifies. But it would be a mistake to overlook the compassion many whites in the film felt for minorities, like Snyder, who rode steerage with Owens and the other black athletes during the voyage across the ocean and Brundage, who, in spite of his secret negotiations with Goebbels, did fight for the inclusion of Jews in the games. We also see Riefenstahl's artistic vision remained unsullied by the Reich's loathsome ideas about race.
Race is highly entertaining and a fascinating bit of history. The film celebrates the achievements of an extraordinary man but doesn't shrink from the seamier side of the times in which he lived. The saddest fact we might glean from his story may be that America never fully appreciated the man and his accomplishments. Maybe Hopkins' film helps to keep him in our thoughts.
