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When We Were Kings.

Ryan, Susan. "When We Were Kings. " Cineaste. 22.n4 (Fall 1996): 54(2). Academic ASAP. Gale. Florida International University. 16 Aug. 2009 <http://find.galegroup.com.ezproxy.fiu.edu/gtx/infomark.do?&contentSet=IAC- Documents&type=retrieve&tabID=T003&prodId=AIM&docId=A19507321&source=gale&srcprod=AIM&userGroupName=flstuniv&version=1.0>.

Full Text:COPYRIGHT 1996 Cineaste Publishers, Inc.

At a time when Dennis Rodman's outrageous antics dominate sports coverage, it's easy to forget the origins of the aggressive 'in your face' interview exchange. Capturing media attention, however, used to involve more than just changing hair dye. Leon Gast's When We Were Kings reminds us of what a unique sports figure Muhammad Ali was, and still is. This entertaining documentary shows the boxer at one of the most celebrated moments in his career, dancing around the press, and preaching black pride with the same skill that he once used dancing around the ring.

The film focuses on the 1974 bout between Ali and George Foreman, the infamous 'rumble in the jungle' in Kinshasa, Zaire. Narrated by Norman Mailer and George Plimpton (both writers who attended the fight), as well as filmmaker Spike Lee, When We Were Kings illuminates the significance of the fight not only in boxing history but also as a major cultural event. In addition to the fight, the promoters organized the "Zaire '74" concert which featured many of the major black artists of the day, including James Brown and B.B. King, among others, most of whom had never been to Africa, let alone heard of Zaire. Plagued by delays, chaotic preparations, and the unfamiliarity of working in an African nation, the documentary recaptures the excitement of an unparalleled sporting spectacle and its attendant political ramifications.

The fight was one of the most heavily publicized matches in boxing history and was expected to draw the largest television audience ever. At 32, Ali was considered well past his prime, having suffered losses in fights against Joe Frazier and Ken Norton. His exile from boxing, from 1967 to 1970, for refusing induction into the military and his public stance against the Vietnam war, removed him from the ring during the height of his career. His statement, "No Vietnamese ever called me nigger," made headlines; the government's relentless persecution of him (after he had already been disqualified for service for failing the written tests) was geared to set an example of a public figure who was already controversial because of his conversion to Islam. He fought his way back to championship position after a grueling battle with Joe Frazier in 1973, but most commentators agreed that his best years as a boxer were over.

Foreman, on the other hand, had scored a string of thirty-seven knockouts and had never lost a professional bout. Rarely had his fights gone beyond three rounds. Cruelly nicknamed "the mummy" by Ali because he lacked his competitor's speed and verbal acumen, Foreman's formidable punching ability was known throughout boxing.

According to Norman Mailer in The Fight, his book-length account of this match, boxing is the most vain of all sports in that men enter the ring to attract admiration. This narcissistic impulse means that boxers also run the risk of suffering the worst public humiliation. The tension makes it more dramatic for the spectator, as the boxer faces not only potential physical pain, but also the psychological distress of being beaten up in front of thousands, or, in this case, millions of viewers. Nowhere was this more evident than in Zaire. With Foreman as a three to one favorite, even Ali's staunchest supporters, including his devoted entourage, feared that he faced not only defeat, but also severe physical injury.

The drama of the fight even took on an ideological dimension, as had so many of Ali's fights after the exile years. Ali's antiwar position and strident black nationalism were in sharp contrast to Foreman's patriotic flourishes (after winning in the 1968 Olympics he ran around the ring waving a flag at a time when other black athletes were raising their fists in protest). According to one interview in the film, the contrast between the two was so pronounced that many in Zaire assumed before he arrived that Foreman was white. Clearly, this was a fight that could be 'read' on many levels, from a pugilistic contest to a discourse on black identity.

The former Belgian Congo was an unlikely setting for a world-class boxing match, but one that provided fertile territory for publicity as masterminded by promoter Don King. In 1974, King was only four years out of prison and had just entered the world of big-time boxing. The fight would do as much to enhance his career as it did Ali's. One of the fascinations of the film is watching Don King spin a web of verbiage about Africa, Ali, and "the return to scintillating glory" around anyone who will listen, including a dumbfounded George Plimpton, no slouch with words himself. In terms of setting up the fight, King convinced Ali and Foreman to participate for $5 million each, then he needed to persuade someone to front the $10 million to

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put on the show. Military dictator Mobutu Sese Seko saw an opportunity to focus world attention on Zaire for reasons other than political turmoil and so offered the sum out of the country's coffers.

The documentary only touches on Mobutu's more pernicious side, with snippets of archival footage of military repression under the opening credits, a brief mention of his 1960 coup against socialist independence leader Patrice Lumumba, and Norman Mailer's recounting of mass executions in the same stadium where the fight took place. Viewers interested in the politics of Zaire at the time will have to turn to William Klein's documentary, Muhammad Ali: The Greatest (1974), to see a more critical analysis of the paradox of Ali's warm embrace of Mobutu for sponsoring the fight at the same time as the dictator was denying civil rights under military rule to his own people.

The film compellingly shows how the African setting was an appropriate platform for not only Ali's superb boxing skills, but also his outspoken views regarding the black community in America. The poster slogan "from the slaveship to the championship" (which the Zaire government later objected to and had retracted) reinforced the historical resonance of slavery (where bare-knuckle boxing among slaves was entertainment for their masters) as did the proclamations of Ali and Don King. From Ali's fervent pronouncements upon the greatness of having an all-black airline crew to James Brown shouting "I am somebody," the film's expert editing relates Ali's views to a wider cultural statement about black pride then transforming the country. The accompanying concert may have been a bust in terms of organization and attendance, but the footage of performers Brown, B.B. King, and Miriam Makeba in counterpoint to the fight and pre-fight hype is skillfully juxtaposed for maximum associative effect.

Boxing aficionados will find much to appreciate in the coverage of the fight itself, which has often been represented through photographs in other films. Instead of using a much publicized strategy of dancing around the ring to tire Foreman out, Ali shocked spectators by taking to the ropes - the famous 'rope-a-dope' maneuver - and absorbed Foreman's devastating blows. By the eighth round the tactical switch had worked, as an exhausted Foreman was felled by a knockout blow to the head. The utter amazement of the moment is forcefully captured by a still of Mailer and Plimpton with mouths agape as Foreman falls to the canvas. Ali's "shock to the world" ten years before, in upsetting Sonny Liston, suddenly paled in comparison to beating Foreman.

Due to financial and legal problems, it took twenty-three years to bring this feature-length recounting of "the rumble in the jungle" to the screen, but the delay has only served to enrich its historical perspective. Hollywood director Taylor Hackford's addition of more interview material, which is at times gratuitous, may enlighten those who are unfamiliar with the event, or with Ali. The real power of the film, however, comes from the verite footage of the pre-fight hype, Ali's public persona, and the creative editing. The intense scenes of musicians in performance add to the overall feeling of spectacle, as well as broaden the appeal for viewers not particularly interested in boxing.

Ali was a sportswriter's dream, as When We Were Kings convincingly shows: funny, articulate, always unpredictable. In a sport dominated by brawn, he was a quick-witted provocateur, whether playfully verbally sparring with sports commentator Howard Cosell or arrogantly berating his sullen and taciturn opponents. George Foreman, in contrast, comes across as a person entirely different from the affable promoter of hamburgers that he is today. Reserved and overwhelmed by Ali's verbal barrages, it's understandable why he went into a two-year depression and later left boxing for years after his unexpected thrashing in Zaire.

Although overly reverential at times (the montage of photographs of Ali at various points in his career gets a bit saccharine), When We Were Kings is really a poignant tribute to Ali which recognizes his political significance in addition to his contributions to boxing. While one could take issue with the fighter's politics in later years (his support for George Bush and Orrin Hatch, for example), in the Seventies he had the courage to use his position as a professional boxer to speak out on controversial issues at a risk to his own career. As When We Were Kings eloquently suggests, there have been other great boxers but there has never been another Ali.

- Susan Ryan

Susan Ryan teaches film studies at New York University and the College of Staten Island (CUNY).

Gale Document Number:A19507321

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