OJ: Made in America

Ezra Edelman's OJ: Made in America is the most highly praised documentary of 2016, the deserved winner of the Academy Award for Best Documentary. Sports fans, like me, who have viewed films in ESPN's "30 for 30" documentary series will not be surprised by the quality of this film. Most of the films in this series have been of extremely high caliber (this Baltimore Colts fan particularly adored Barry Levinson's film about the team's band) and OJ... is no exception. At over seven hours in length, Edelman is able to fill his film with intricate detailing that gives weight to his efforts to make the saga of Orenthal James a modern tragedy. Edelman's interviews with African-American church leaders, for example, gives us a richer portrait of black urban churches than in, say, Ava DuVernay's 13th. This is not to denigrate Ms. DuVernay's fine film, but to point out that the corporate resources Edelman had on hand have given him the time and funds to create a broad canvas.

If I have any petty complaints about the film, they stem from the film's liberal establishment groupthink perspective; a common complaint these days about ESPN's editorial slant. For example, the talking heads are filled with familiar figures from documentaries about race, such as Harry Edwards and Jim Brown, who offer the usual bromides about the struggle for racial equality. These figures are contrasted with OJ who shunned activism and became an Uncle Tom figure to some. I think this is a false dichotomy. Frankly, some jocks, black, white, pink or blue, are not equipped to be advocates for social change. A man like Kareen Abdul-Jabbar has much to offer as a social commentator, but most famous athletes do not and it is silly to have that expectation. Being a famous athlete does not mean one is wise or has an interesting point of view. As OJ: Made in America itself proves, sometimes a dumb jock is a dumb jock. 

Edelman compounds this simplistic contrast by juxtaposing inane footage of OJ performing with Bob Hope or shilling for products with scenes of turmoil from the 60s: riots, beatings, assassinations. There is a case to be made for this type of juxtaposition as a true evocation of the schizoid nature of the era. It was weird to sit in front of the tube with one's friends and relatives and switch from Cronkite reciting the daily Vietnam body count to Carol Burnett mugging or Lawrence Welk counting off a one and a two. However, I think it is shooting fish in a barrel to portray OJ as a corporate stooge who fiddles while Watts burned. All in all, though, these are puny caveats. OJ: Made in America is compelling and thoughtful viewing. (4/12/17)