The co-directors of The Athlete, Davey Frankel and Rasselas Lakew, made a very canny decision in constructing their biopic of the famed Ethiopian runner Abebe Bikila. Even as the film’s subject, played wonderfully by Lakew himself, is known as one of the greatest distance runners ever, it’s been a half-century since he burst into the world’s consciousness at the Rome Olympics of 1960. Today, on a worldwide level, those recalling the exact nature of his unexpected rise to greatness are, realistically, few.
This assumption, it appears, was very much a part of the decision to bring Bikila’s life to the screen in staggered increments, which adds to the dramatic phasing in of his life. We know early that his run at the Rome Games was not only a record-shattering appearance, it came with Bikila running barefoot. In one of the most audacious moves in sporting history, Bikila cast aside the ill-fitting track shoes he intended to wear that day, instead taking the 26.2-mile course minus shoes or socks. It was a move that ultimately would overshadow his record-breaking pace—along with the fact that he was first African—to win Olympic gold. And, of course, his bold win also opened to doors to a myriad of runners from Ethiopia (and then Kenya) who would excel in distance running events.
And it’s heavily-manipulated use of stock footage from the Rome Games that’s liberally interspersed through the opening, eye-popping minutes of The Athlete, cast against scenes of Bikila driving through the rural Ethiopia of 1969, a few years ahead of his planned comeback at the Munich Games of 1972. The editing of the film, by Frankel and Matt Mayer, deserves special praise, as does the cinematography, credited to a quartet of DPs. An unusual-looking and visually striking film, The Athlete moves at a pace unlike most sports biopics. And, at only a few times, does it give the same feeling given to you by, say, a Nike advertisement. Here, the plot and storyline are surely more important than hyper-close-ups of a drop of sweat running down an athlete’s cheek.
In fact, if anything, we seldom see Bikila running. The man’s greatest achievement in life wasn’t just winning gold, but winning it in Rome, the home of Benito Mussolini, who’d invaded Ethiopia some two decades prior to Bikila’s 1960 marathon victory. And, yet, aside from those news archive scenes from Rome, there are relatively few minutes given over to his training, though those that are in place take full advantage of the gorgeous Ethiopian plains. Similarly, the film frequently refers to his family, but perhaps reflecting the old notions of “the loneliness of long-distance runners,” we never see them directly, isolating Bikila further.
We do meet Onni (Dag Malmberg), Bikila’s nomadic Scandanavian coach, who’s settled into an expat’s life in Ethiopia. A priest that Bikila picks up on the roadside (Abba Waka Dessalegn) provides a way for Bikila to share some of his life with the audience as he tells the man about his younger years. The priest also provides a foil during the film’s greatest moment of foreshadowing, as the two encounter—then argue about—a blind horse on the roadway. Aside from these two, only minor roles are given other characters, with much of the film taking place inside Bikila’s mind, played throughout with reserve and stoicism by Lakew.
If reading about Bikila after the film, you’ll realize that huge events in his life aren’t given screen time in the film; some are hinted at, others are left vague. But the essential greatness, the true steeliness of the man and the athlete are well displayed. The film’s final quarter takes on some almost fairy-tale-like qualities, focusing on an athletic event the average viewer will never see coming. Somehow, though, the unexpected twists and turns shouldn’t really surprise: Bikila’s own life story presented so many unbelievable moments that the filmmakers necessarily had to make choices.
And, after viewing this emotional work, you’ll likely agree that they made almost all the right ones.
The Athlete (Aletu) screens Tuesday, November 15 at 7 p.m., and Sunday, November 20 at Plaza Frontenac Cinemas. Tickets are $12, $10 for Cinema St. Louis Members. For advance tickets, call 314-725-6555, ext. 0, or visit cinemastlouis.org.
