McEnroe a Good Documentary with a Few Double Faults

 

 

McEnroe (2022)

Directed by Barney Douglas

Showtime Original, 104 minutes, TV-Mature (language)

★★★

 

Tennis star John  McEnroe was as known for his on-the-court tantrums and abusive language as for his amazing four-year run (1981-84) as the top-ranked male player in the world. In 1984, he was an astonishing 82-3 in matches. The Showtime documentary McEnroe looks at his rise, his triumphs, and character flaws. Watching it today makes you think that if John McEnroe isn’t on spectrum, there’s no such thing as autism. And watch it you can, now that it’s widely available on DVD and various streaming platforms.

 

Director/writer Barney Douglas follows McEnroe from his time as an Air Force brat to an adult brat who finally found a measure of control after he retired from what was once considered a genteel sport. The film labels McEnroe the “original bad boy” of tennis. Not really. Both Ilie “Nasty” Nastase and Jimmy Connors crapped on that turf before McEnroe, though you might need an elephant parade brigade to clean up after Johnny Mc. What is indisputable is that despite his outbursts, fines, and suspensions, when McEnroe was on his game, he was brilliant. He probably would have been even better had he been able to focus his energy rather than screaming at officials, smashing rackets, and–worst of all from a competitive standpoint–allowing his rage to consume rather than inspire him. (As would later plague Andre Agassi, Andy Roddick, and Nick Kyrgios.)

 

McEnroe, like many bio-docs, relies on a host of testimonials that seek to give insight into what made the subject tick: Björn Borg, Billie Jean King, Chrissie Hynde, Phil Knight, Keith Richards, various members of the McEnroe clan (including some of his children and his tennis-playing brother Patrick), and his doubles partner Peter Fleming. On the latter score, McEnroe is the only male player ever ranked #1 in both singles and doubles. You might notice, though, that there are no mental health experts on the talking head list.

 

McEnroe’s bouts with Borg, the man he displaced as # 1, were legendary. Few knew, though, that Borg and McEnroe’s fellow New York bad boy Vitas Gerulitas, were about the closest thing McEnroe had to friends. When McEnroe defeated Borg at the 1981 U.S. Open, Borg retired from Grand Slam tennis, though he just 25. McEnroe couldn’t believe it, but Borg told him he just didn’t want to compete at that level anymore and that Mc would one day feel the same. He was on the money. Without Borg to inspire him, McEnroe began to flame out well before he retired from singles play in 1994.

 

An angle that Douglas plays subtly but well is showing how celebrity is an addiction in its own right. In 1986, McEnroe married actress Taum O’Neal, with whom he had three children, but their relationship soon mirrored McEnroe’s courtside problems. O’Neal tried to cope via cocaine and divorce occurred in 1994, two years after they separated. McEnroe went to clubs and hobnobbed with other famous people. It was the sort of lifestyle that gave him access to Eric Clapton and Eddie Van Halen when he decided he wanted to play guitar more seriously but by 1990, McEnroe arguably wielded his axe better than his racket. He occasionally played some doubles, but for the most part John McEnroe joined the ranks of those who became famous for having been famous. A key rebound came when he began dating punk/New Wave singer Patty Smyth in 1992. The two married five years later and remain together.

 

McEnroe doesn’t say much about his life as a tennis commentator or the occasional slips that cause some to believe that he went from a young jerk to an older one. The Douglas documentary suffers from a ham-handed attempt to portray his subject as a family man who learned to laugh. (What about Mc’s admission that he used steroids?) I could also have done without a rather obvious attempt at portraying McEnroe’s dark side with continuing voiceover footage of him walking alone in New York at night. At one point we hear him tell us that he’s “not very empathetic.” No kidding! I liked McEnroe and I always admired Johnny Mc’s talent, but it seems a missed opportunity to gloss the roots of his demons. McEnroe remains a complex man. Whether he can also be a good one is a serve toss suspended in air.

 

Rob Weir