Fans past the halfway point of The Last Dance cannot be faulted for deeming it a gift that keeps on giving. Episodes Five and Six, released Monday, come with the air of inevitability that permeates all documentaries chronicling the past, and yet proves continually compelling all the same. The series鈥 microscopic look at the 1997-98 season all and sundry know the ending to benefits from the willing, even enthusiastic, participation of its principal protagonist. Indeed, Michael Jordan, whose voice invariably carries heft because of his status as the best of the best of all time, opens his thoughts and feelings in a manner that sheds new light on history. It鈥檚 his light, granted, but one that unveils a unique perspective on already-established facts.
That Jordan is the fulcrum of The Last Dance cannot be understated. It makes use of a forward-and-back narrative style in telling his ascent to the top of the sport through two timelines, and the methodology may well be confusing to follow were it not anchored on his present-day participation. Following both his pre-stardom life and reign at the top becomes easier with his informed takes, enabling a holistic view to those from the outside looking in. The fifth and sixth parts cover a lot of potentially overwhelming ground — from his relationship with an upstart Kobe Bryant to the Dream Team to his Association with shady characters to the end of the first three-peat to the middle of the second. Nonetheless, the by-product offers clarity and discernment.
Significantly, the Jordan in the latest episodes of The Last Dance is humanized. He鈥檚 unparalleled on the court, but frail off it — consumed by ego, admittedly selfish, domineering, and, on the flipside, helpful, committed, determined. He loves to be part of a group, but not really just one of the guys; instead, he needs to assert his status as first among equals, and, just as importantly, to make everybody around him acknowledge it. And if his abrasive, in-your-face leadership style works, it鈥檚 because he puts in the effort to hone his craft, and then produces results.
The figure Jordan cuts is alternately sympathetic, irritating, pitiful, despicable. It is also spellbinding, authoritative, candid. Which, in the final analysis, is why the fifth and sixth parts of The Last Dance manage to enthrall from start to finish. Armed with his vantage point, they reveal themselves to be insightful revisits of seminal stories. Crucially, they reveal a side of him few have seen: He craves for companionship, but demands respect to a point where lasting ties are made only on his terms. He believes he has earned the right to dictate them.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since 大象传媒 introduced a Sports section in 1994.
