The format is clearly popular, because Netflix has two more similar series that will be released in 2023 – currently called Untitled Tennis Series and Untitled Golf Series. They are made by the producers of Drive to Survive, and if you have watched it, you know what to expect: tension, drama, pressure, sweat. The problem is that it’s all manufactured, a thin facsimile of the real thing.
There have been some incredible sports documentaries over the years: ESPN’s 30 for 30 series, or The Last Dance, about Michael Jordan’s dominant Chicago Bulls team. But for the most part, these documents looked backwards and showed athletes whose professional careers were over, who had nothing to lose by telling the truth.
The new wave of sports documentaries promise an unsolicited glimpse behind the curtain of elite sport as it happens today, but the documentary makers deal with international brands and multimillionaires with absolutely no incentive to reveal anything real. There are a series of restrictions in place on what can and cannot be shown in the finished product – layers of approvals and signatures. Tellingly, the critically acclaimed The Last Dance is built around 500 hours of behind-the-scenes footage shot during Jordan’s final season with the Bulls in 1997-98, which he refused permission to release. until recently.
Trying to do the same thing closer to real time means trading investigative rigor for access — and if All or Nothing and Drive to Survive are any indication, Netflix’s new shows are likely to be superficially insightful but nutritionally empty, accessible to everyone involved except the viewer.
It’s the next logical step in a shift that’s been happening for years. Social media allowed athletes (and celebrities and politicians) to control their own messaging for the first time, unmediated by newspapers and magazines. Now they use that power to control their image, helped by streaming services desperate for sports content and the eyeballs it brings. And that would be fine if they only hung watches and fine fragrances, but today sports are also a vehicle for soft power: When Amazon offers a sanitized view of Manchester City for a documentary, they are not only washing Pep Guardiola and his players. , but also the Abu Dhabi regime that finances them.
Part of the draw of live sport is its inherent chaos. Japan could beat Spain, a tennis player could inexplicably start touching a woman in the crowd, a crazy shot could hit and deflect a beach ball. For advertisers, however, there is no business case for the chaos, and stage-managed sports documentaries are just another way spontaneity is squeezed out of the product.
Look at sports through this lens, and many strange things begin to make sense: the outbreak of the Saudi golf tournament, FIFA’s decision to expand the World Cup to 48 teams despite fears it will make football worse, the relentless grind of the ATP Tour, the How the Champions League format is being phased out to benefit the established clubs.
The remnants of bland behind-the-scenes documentaries like Drive to Survive are just another symptom of the same disease. They offer a glimpse into the stage-managed future of sport, where occasions like the World Cup become even less about the supporters, and even more about selling things. Welcome to the Untitled Football series, where fans simply dress up on stage, and the actual sport is a complication that can be changed.
