I have long been a fan of the "ESPN 30 For 30" series of documentaries as, I believe, they peel back the stories behind the athletes, the sport, and tap into a more human element. And the standout of this series of films has to be "O.J.: Made In America."
I came along in late 1983, ten years after Simpson hit 2000 yards in a season, so I didn't understand him as the great sports icon he was, even as I was (and still am) a fan of the team he did it with, the Buffalo Bills. I knew him mostly as the sideline guy on NFL broadcasts, and I had seen a few of the Hertz Rent-A-Car commercials he had done. As I wasn't even ten years old at the time of the murders of Nicole Brown and Ronald Goldman, I remember thinking "how can this guy be at the center of this drama?" I certainly didn't understand anything about race relations, why Los Angeles was on the verge of tearing itself apart, or any of those other soul-searching issues that you know you have to try to do something about, but you never know what exactly you can do.
Even when I began to get a better, but far from a complete, understanding of the world as it is (well after the 'not guilty' verdict had been given), I remember watching "The Naked Gun" series of movies and thinking "how could O.J. go from being so likeable to this monster?" because he was genuinely funny and charming in those movies.
For me, this documentary comes about the closest I believe to answering the why and the how. Without coming right out and saying it, I believe Ezra Edelman shows that even at the height of Simpson's popularity and charisma, there was a sense of "it's all about me" that, perhaps, he initially tried to fight against when he refused to do a post-game interview without having his teammates with him, but then eventually gave in to as his playing career was coming to a close. And it only grew stronger culminating in the S.W.A.T. team negotiator seeing that he needed to appeal to O.J.'s ego in order to talk him out of the Bronco without creating more of an incident, a conclusion he came to after seeing how his home was decorated with no pictures of his family present.
For as brilliant a documentary as this is though, and for as comprehensive as it is looking into the background of what made O.J. what he was, if there is one thing I would knock it for it's that it doesn't explore how domestic violence and athletic entertainment can go hand in hand. I think it could be argued that the focus of this documentary was on O.J., his own struggle with racial identity and how it's juxtaposed against the national struggle with it, and that's why domestic violence, while certainly not forgotten, wasn't highlighted. If I could make a suggestion though, maybe as a followup to this documentary, it would be to explore how domestic and sexual abuse play into the lives of athletes, former athletes, and coaches. Certainly looking at O.J. and even the Penn State program under Joe Paterno would make for compelling viewing. But maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't like what such a documentary reveals.
I came along in late 1983, ten years after Simpson hit 2000 yards in a season, so I didn't understand him as the great sports icon he was, even as I was (and still am) a fan of the team he did it with, the Buffalo Bills. I knew him mostly as the sideline guy on NFL broadcasts, and I had seen a few of the Hertz Rent-A-Car commercials he had done. As I wasn't even ten years old at the time of the murders of Nicole Brown and Ronald Goldman, I remember thinking "how can this guy be at the center of this drama?" I certainly didn't understand anything about race relations, why Los Angeles was on the verge of tearing itself apart, or any of those other soul-searching issues that you know you have to try to do something about, but you never know what exactly you can do.
Even when I began to get a better, but far from a complete, understanding of the world as it is (well after the 'not guilty' verdict had been given), I remember watching "The Naked Gun" series of movies and thinking "how could O.J. go from being so likeable to this monster?" because he was genuinely funny and charming in those movies.
For me, this documentary comes about the closest I believe to answering the why and the how. Without coming right out and saying it, I believe Ezra Edelman shows that even at the height of Simpson's popularity and charisma, there was a sense of "it's all about me" that, perhaps, he initially tried to fight against when he refused to do a post-game interview without having his teammates with him, but then eventually gave in to as his playing career was coming to a close. And it only grew stronger culminating in the S.W.A.T. team negotiator seeing that he needed to appeal to O.J.'s ego in order to talk him out of the Bronco without creating more of an incident, a conclusion he came to after seeing how his home was decorated with no pictures of his family present.
For as brilliant a documentary as this is though, and for as comprehensive as it is looking into the background of what made O.J. what he was, if there is one thing I would knock it for it's that it doesn't explore how domestic violence and athletic entertainment can go hand in hand. I think it could be argued that the focus of this documentary was on O.J., his own struggle with racial identity and how it's juxtaposed against the national struggle with it, and that's why domestic violence, while certainly not forgotten, wasn't highlighted. If I could make a suggestion though, maybe as a followup to this documentary, it would be to explore how domestic and sexual abuse play into the lives of athletes, former athletes, and coaches. Certainly looking at O.J. and even the Penn State program under Joe Paterno would make for compelling viewing. But maybe, just maybe, we wouldn't like what such a documentary reveals.