Film Review | ‘September 5’, Breaking News, Broken Worlds

The Superb ‘September 5’ Chronicles the Munich Olympics Tragedy from the ABC Control Room, Raising Questions about Media’s Role

Credit: Courtesy

At the painful heart and razor’s edge center of the story in September 5 is the tragic and well-known case of murderous terrorism at the 1972 Munich Olympics. The deadly attack, in which Palestinian terrorists took Israeli athletes hostage and culminated in the death of all concerned, has occasionally been brought to the general public life of TV and film treatments before. Most notably, Steven Spielberg laid out the saga in his 2005 film Munich.

But what makes the disarmingly affecting September 5 stand apart, both in terms of this specific tragedy and issues of media morality, is its tightly controlled hermetic point of view. This is the story literally behind the scenes yet within the scenes, in the ABC control room where sports coverage quickly turned into breaking news. The real story here is a semi-thriller recounting the eyes/windows on an unfolding tragedy, which enabled the whole world to be watching.

Although in the info-oversaturated present, we are hyper aware of the buzz — and sometimes ruse — of breaking news, September 5 documents a more innocent media landscape. Its timeline and storyline are fueled by critical firsts: The first time the Olympics were broadcast live, and the first instance of a terrorist situation going live and global.

Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum does a masterful job in assembling the pieces and keeping us tautly wound as the story — and the storytellers’ challenges — unfold over the course of a single day. Various tensions are at work within the control room, not unlike the dynamics of power and hierarchy in another recent vintage television drama, Saturday Night.

Rookie producer Geoffrey Mason (expertly played by John Magaro, who will appear on the “Virtuosos” tribute at the upcoming Santa Barbara International Film Festival) is the trial-by-fire newbie, alternately pushed around and affirmed by network superiors Roon Arledge (Peter Sarsgaard, just right, as usual) and the tougher-talking ABC sports head Marv Bader (Ben Chaplin). Along with the young German woman Marianne Gebhardt (Leonie Benesch), whose work as translator and brave task-runner saves the day more than once, the film affords its actors a true ensemble atmosphere in which to work, and they rise to the challenge.

Part of the equation behind the film’s mix of veracity and entertainment value is its deft juggling of vintage footage and soundstage recreations. Real archival reports by Jim McKay blend in with audio by Peter Jennings, and the infamous shots of ski-masked terrorists lurking on the balconies of the Israeli compound instantly take us back to a globally televised standoff.

In the heat of the unpredictable moments, decisions about the morality of the media come into play, especially in a scenario of unprecedented exposure to live evil. The question naturally arises: “Can we show somebody being shot on live television?” Thankfully, this didn’t have to be tested, as the finalizing carnage at the airport occurred without press in tow.

Jennings, early in the saga, tells Arledge, “No offense, guys. You’re sports. You’re in way over your heads.” Arledge snaps back, “Does it make sense to have a talking head tell the story from across the world? We’re 100 yards away from the action. This is our story and we’re keeping it. They can figure out what it all means later.”

We’re now very much in a “later” phase, after many other headline-seizing terrorist acts, such as those more atrocious incidents also given date-stamped identities, 9/11 and October 7. What does it all mean? We’re no closer to comprehension of these extremes of violence and sinister plotting, except to recognize it as part of the larger and deeper human impulse of wheels of vengeance, and the seemingly immortal will to make and justify war.

But the games go on. That is literally one subplot of this fine and thought-provoking film. The legacy of Munich 1972 is marred by terrorism, and marked by the triumphs of Mark Spitz, who also gets some celebratory screen time here.

View the trailer here.