Race
Written by Andreas Babiolakis
It’s Tokyo Olympics time, so we’re getting a little into the season here at Films Fatale. Each weekday will involve a film relating to the Olympics in any way. They can be sports films or other genres, and real or fictitious.
There are many things to like about the Jesse Owens biopic Race, but they’re all underneath schmaltz; this thick layer of sterile storytelling distances the strengths of the picture far enough for the worse. This was a rare moment for director Stephen Hopkins to shine outside of his usual horror or franchise works, but it also serves as a bit of a reminder as to why he typically sticks within his wheelhouse: he can flounder on his own terms. He didn’t even have an original story here: Race takes Owens’ iconic Olympic achievements during the Berlin games (which were heavily attached to Naziism and the promotion of the party during Adolf Hitler’s reign). I’m also a sucker for films about filmmaking, and Race contains a bit of Leni Riefenstahl’s production on the Olympia documentaries shot at the same time (more on those films later on in these Olympics reviews). There’s something interesting in Race, but we’re not hearing it.
Really, the point of watching the film, as much as this detracts from the actual importance of the subject matter, is to see stars Jason Sudeikis and Stephan James (in his breakthrough performance as Owens) doing their thing. James feels like the only element of the film that actually channels Jesse Owens as the pivotal icon that he was: by humanizing his legacy, and capturing the weight of his achievements. Sudeikis plays track and field coach Larry Snyder in a way that we are more familiar with now, thanks to works that have shown off the charming-yet-dramatic range of the actor; at the time, Sudeikis’ performance felt like the pushing of his comfort zone, but really we weren’t anywhere near his full capabilities.
Stephan James is fantastic as Jesse Owens in Race.
Otherwise, the film plunges itself into kitschy territory, as if it doesn’t believe in itself enough to resonate with audiences on merit alone. The typical pacing, score and muted cinematography aim for something magical, but all of these pleasant qualities crumble underneath the adoration of cinematic normalcy. Here is an athlete who defied the odds in a film that couldn’t care less about branching out. It’s a shame, because there are the previously mentioned elements that show signs of promise, and yet we get the same-old song and dance of sports and biographical pictures. It’s ironic that an Olympics film would aim for awards (that Oscar gold medal), especially when it’s indicative of the kind of athlete that just wouldn’t make it out of the preliminaries (which, during the awards season, it didn’t). It’s decent enough, but far too safe to warrant any subsequent watches or real impact, outside of people who didn’t know anything about Jesse Owens or the Berlin Olympics (or even the significance of the Olympia documentaries). If you’re already in the know, then there’s really nothing here outside of some strong performances.
Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Ryerson University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.