Namath (2012) review

Dir. Ouisie Shapiro

By: Steve Pulaski

Rating: ★★★

Of all the professional quarterbacks from bygone eras I’ve read about, few jumped out to me like former New York Jets superstar Joe Namath. Something about an unassuming Pennsylvanian Renaissance athlete, so to speak, who went from being the smallest soul in a large family to a giant of sorts in the massive New York media market for the better part of the 1960s and 1970s stuck out to me as the formula of which sports stories are made. Combine that with his tremendous skillset, popularity off the field, many post-playing ventures, silky smooth voice, and intense likability, I don’t know, maybe I saw a shred of myself in him. You know, minus the serious talent.

Namath is a documentary very reminiscent of those oh-so engrossing 30 for 30 films ESPN has been cranking out for the last 10 years, only with the gloss and conviction afforded under the HBO umbrella. Its ability to capture not only the essence of its titular subject as a person but his many accomplishments in a lean 86 minutes is no easy feat. Even if it does perhaps undermine his struggles with addiction, it nonetheless paints a rock-solid picture of a suave athlete whose impact was so great on a particular franchise that it still has yet to be matched some 50 years later.

Namath grew up in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, a blue-collar mill-town amidst a large family with two older brothers and an older, adopted sister, making him the de facto spoiled baby. He excelled at baseball, basketball, and of course football, and after choosing to ride football until the wheels fell off, he landed at the University of Alabama in the middle of head coach Bear Bryant’s tutelage. From day-one of his college career to his eventual NFL career — at the climax of the league’s merger with the AFL — Namath was treated with delicate gloves insofar that he was always looked at as a special kind of player. Even in college, he was one of the earliest quarterbacks who mastered the art of scrambling in the pocket, using his legs to extend plays without getting himself into trouble or being billed as the nebulous “running quarterback.” Combine that with his notable fashion trends — white tape to tighten his shoes, slick pants, and movie-star good looks — even one with little knowledge of football could tell he was a star in the making.

When Namath signed with the New York Jets, his $400,000 (plus incentives) contract was the largest sum of money guaranteed to one player. Initially in the locker-room, he had a target on his back for being so highly compensated yet so unproven at the professional level, which made some veteran players envious. But Namath, who would go on to earn nicknames such as “Broadway Joe” and “Joe Cool,” remained composed and productive, quickly asserting himself as a competitive quarterback with a wicked way of playing “hero ball” — taking high risks and throwing the ball deep down the field. His career came to a head and his legacy was solidified when the Jets upset the heavily favored Baltimore Colts in Super Bowl III; this win coming after Namath boldly “guaranteed” the team would win in a predictably calm, confident fashion.

One of the most attractive qualities about Namath, in my eyes at least, was how easily he could be mistaken for being cocky or arrogant. With the brand of confidence he had, it’s not hard to understand why. In the age of social media, current quarterbacks have a platform on which to elevate themselves 365 days a year, and some often do so in braggadocios ways. Everyone has their own style in a sport where the unwritten goal is to impose your will on the opposing team. But Namath’s background and siblings helped colored in the confidence for which he’s known. He’s not cocky, but supremely confident, always one to cast a light on his teammates, who fought just as hard if not harder than he did, but didn’t get the glory.

One black-mark on Namath’s career — besides his iffy statistics, which could look ugly in the context of the modern day NFL, for he would’ve been out of the starting job by his second year with a 19:28 touchdown/interception ratio — was his injuries. From his college days, he had horrific knee problems that plagued him throughout much of his career, and his style of play didn’t help in that it commanded such a reliance on his agility and running speed. Namath suffered many injuries during his time with the Gang Green, and his career eventually ended after one too many blows that sidelined him often.

Director Ouisie Shapiro — who also directed the Vince Lombardi documentary for HBO prior to this one — also casts a light on Namath’s off-the-field feats, which included everything from an entertaining talk show and several film roles. But a stain on his post-playing legacy was his battle with drug and alcohol addiction, brought to intense public attention and scrutiny when a drunk Namath asked ESPN analyst Suzy Kolber to kiss him during a Monday Night Football broadcast in 2003. However, an impressive detail to note about Namath was his attitude. Here’s a man who was physically and metaphorically knocked down so much in his career, either by public gaffs or personal battles, but someone who could rebound like no other. You can’t teach his kind of moxie, and his story is one that could be used as motivational fuel for anyone, not just athletes.

Namath may not get into the gritty details of some of the unsavory stuff, such as when Namath’s playing career almost came to an abrupt end following his night-club being found to house a lot of mafia-men or just how far down he spiraled with booze, but it delivers on its promises. It shows a man whose impeccable skillset and tireless drive took him from the homey community of Beaver Falls, where residents still proudly wear his jersey and speak highly of him, to the NFL at a pivotal time for the league as it was entering the television era. The documentary concludes by showing Namath return to Beaver Falls after a 15 year absence, a visit that culminates with him headlining a high school football game. His legacy as a football player is set in stone. His story is one that should continue to be told.

Directed by: Ouisie Shapiro.