While sports are away, I think that it has made the value of ESPN’s 30 for 30 series all the more apparent. Most of the athletes covered in these feature-length documentaries have an eccentric personality, permeating culture, and leaving behind earth-shattering perceptions for how the game is played. I have passed the time watching various basketball documentaries via their ESPN+ app, finding how many memorable figures have graced a court only to leave the world a better place. I’m talking about things like Magic Johnson (The Announcement (2012)), Dennis Rodman (Dennis Rodman: For Better or Worse (2019)), and The Detroit Pistons (Bad Boys (2014)), which get primary resources to make history come to life.
I have learned so much about the NBA’s rich history over this quarantine, reflecting on the personalities that I took for granted. However, there was one group who was there through everything that I ever peeped: The Chicago Bulls.
Given that I was born in 1989, I personally have trouble remembering a time when Michael Jordan wasn’t considered the peak of the sport. There were Air Jordan shoes, the “Like Mike” commercials (the Like Mike (2002) movie). I even remember how Rodman’s hair was never the same color every time he stepped out into the public. They were an indomitable force, reflective of what 1990s culture was as this crossroads of more conservative types like Jordan, underdogs like Steve Kerr, and wild cards like Rodman. Even the fact that they had Phil Jackson on the way to record-breaking numbers of championships coaching the team should tell you how mythic this moment was.
That is what made The Last Dance (2020) a phenomenon, even if I had trouble hearing people on Twitter going on about how they undermined Jordan’s legacy. Given that he famously delayed the release of the documentary for fear of what it would do to his image, it’s interesting that the biggest takeaway is one that I’ve known for 25 years: Jordan’s one of the best athletes to ever grace this planet. He was an icon on many fronts, and his workout schedule is daunting. Those saying that LeBron James is better is something that I can’t fully grasp (though that’s also because I haven’t seen THAT LeBron James play for The Los Angeles Lakers yet). Kobe Bryant, maybe. However, this conversation makes me realize that I know little about Magic Johnson to say “best player ever.”
The 10-part series was a chance for sports fans to come together and have something to talk about besides the insufferable absence of basketball (that HORSE game was bad). It was a chance to get nostalgic and introduce a new generation to a time when The Chicago Bulls were THE team not only on the court but in the media. You best believe that Scottie Pippen was a star. Every time they went anywhere, bulbs were flashing, showing a shift in how the sport was seen. They played more aggressively, more focused, and even with Jackson’s maligned triangle offense, they were the best.
The series starts at a point that you wouldn’t expect: the 1997-1998 season when things were about to change radically. It was the end of an era, where the team was about to be disbanded… but not without a championship. They were going to play full force and defy the odds. Even if a lot of this takes place in flashback, that final season is, in simplest terms: insane.
There is no proper way to enter this narrative, as there are so many different strings that begin to pop up. You can start at Jordan returning from his brief stint as a baseball player. You can start at how the management made a few bad calls that might have disrupted things. You could start at Rodman needing to go to Las Vegas, NV to party midseason without a word on when he would return. Or, of course, you can mention how Pippen missed the first half of the season because he personally delayed having surgery because he didn’t want to ruin his vacation.
Any of these moments by themselves would make for a great documentary on their many personalities. While Jordan is the main attraction, it’s impossible to not become excited by every new face. For the MVP, he had this terrible habit of yelling at anyone who wasn’t as good as him. He believed that anyone who insulted him deserved to be beaten on the court. When that moment came, you were in awe that Jordan was true to his word. He could play while sick, injured, or experiencing grief. He was a force to be reckoned with and to hear his blunt belief that he was a staunch professional (maybe the most professional of his generation), only makes him seem cooler. Everyone striving for MVP is like Jordan. To think otherwise is to be very foolish.
When the episodes allow time to cut to supporting players, you get a sense of how big this sport is. Pippen is especially interesting in how underrated he ultimately seemed on the team. He was one of the best players in the league, and yet he was down the roster in terms of salary. One has to ultimately wonder if he was driven away from the team by this sense that nobody respected him. There’s also Kerr, who manages to make his story of his father passing into this inspiring comeback story where despite being an average player he was able to make the game-winning shot on two different occasions during the finals and playoffs.
Of course, the most addicting nature of this documentary is how it uses archival footage. You can’t believe that you’re watching these pros fly through the air. Everyone felt like they were from another world, where even Rodman’s stumbling could find him three rows into the audience. Everything felt wilder, more unexpected. They were a showcase for what the sport could be. To see it evolve from Jordan as a centerpiece into a well-rounded team is even more impressive, making the footage pop with an extra life.
There’s also the reality that additional commentary makes these moments hold more poignancy. To hear Jordan give a play-by-play of his most memorable moments is a benchmark for the series, and to watch him smile as he looks at a tablet at his past has produced enough memorable moments to create hundreds of memes.
The Last Dance feels like an institution in a different way, finding that thing that audiences could bond over. The Bulls story is one that is uncommon and serves as this allegory about how dynasties must come to an end at some point. Sometimes all it takes is a certain mix of egos. To hear the endless stories of Jordan dealing with a team that seemed to be high on drugs in the 1980s age into an indomitable force is charming. It proved that all it took was one or two pieces to be in place for everything to go right.
These faces become familiar, becoming heroes in new ways as insight shines a light on taboo moments. Whatever Jordan was thinking would be ruined in his career has produced quite the opposite. He feels more human, a perfectionist who admits when he was off, being harsher on himself than just about anyone else. He understood that he was a figure of unequaled appeal, having to be this altruistic figure when it would hurt him. Moments like “Republicans wear shoes too” have haunted him for his career, but shows how the apolitical time of sports has changed in 25 years, where transparency has made it difficult to not take a side on anything. Jordan wouldn’t survive in this time, save for his ability to be a born entertainer.
Whereas most 30 for 30 stories don’t need more than an hour, The Last Dance feels like a satisfying highlight reel. Even with 10 full hours exploring one era, it feels like so much has been left out in order to fit ESPN’s schedule. As the old adage goes, leave them wanting more. Jordan knew that, and here he makes you so thrilled by his accomplishments that the final hurrah in the finale makes you feel this triumphant joy from the build-up as well as this sadness that everything is over. A key part of basketball was forever changed, and few teams would ever match its impact ever again. Some have come close, with many comparing The Golden State Warriors’ recent run as a contemporary example, but Steph Curry hasn’t made his Space Jam (1996) yet – though his Holey Moley is a decent substitute.
There were just too many personalities in that group to have any one story come to a finite conclusion in The Last Dance. Jordan may have retired, but Pippen was traded, Rodman was Rodman, Kerr would coach The Warriors to championships, and Jackson still had The Lakers to deal with. Even if you see Jordan’s time with The Charlotte Hornets as an ultimate failure, these are all things that make you excited to see where this series could go with another 10 episodes, servicing as one of the most entertaining “where are they now?” accounts to ever exist. The fact that the last frame says that The Bulls were “rebuilding” feels too vague to truly be satisfying.
The biggest plus was how many amazing forces they interviewed for this special. Besides key Bulls members, there was also “former Chicago resident” Barrack Obama, as well as Nas and Justin Timberlake talking about why Air Jordans were the biggest deal. All of these external forces looking at the phenomenon only enhanced what made them special. Other players who had rivalries with The Bulls often made the various games more exciting, such as Horace Grant trying to overcome the daunting Jordan. If there are any faults, it’s that their only interview for The Utah Jazz playoffs that ended the run was for John Stockton. Listen, Stockton is an amazing player, but it really understates what made that moment timeless.
In all honesty, I love the documentary more for its rigorous execution, how it creates this nostalgic and affirmative look at the 1990s and a time when chaos swirled together in the cosmos and produced this inimitable, influential team.
However, I’m a bit underwhelmed with it symbolizing something greater. This is a story that is appealing because I love sports history, but it doesn’t say much about the era in the same way that the Oscar-winning O.J. Made in America (2016) does. There is no bigger point to what impact the team left on society, just that they were amazing and had this unenviable challenge to go out on top. Sure it’s one of sports’ greatest Cinderella stories, but Jordan as a subject lacks a dynamic that made Simpson’s shorter running time engrossing. O.J. was allowed to go further than any one detail and have it mean something greater about society’s conflict with race relations. With The Last Dance, you feel like everything would work out despite one or two bad days at the office.
It’s sad that this had to come to an end, but that makes the irony of its subject all the more amusing. It’s a definitive look at one of the definitive teams, and I can only hope that more documentaries like this are made. I for one wouldn’t mind seeing a Stockton/Karl Malone 30 for 30 somewhere down the line, or how The Warriors would go from being the best team in the west in 2019 to the current last-place contender in 2020. There are so many great archetypes to explore, and I know that LeBron James is bound to get The Last Dance treatment in a decade or so. It’s inevitable.
More than anything, it makes me miss the NBA all the more. I can only predict that this year went according to plan with The Milwaukee Bucks taking the championship. Even as I say that I’m thinking about more players that I want to see docs about. Who wouldn’t want to see one about Giannis Antetokuompo once his career has a legacy? The potential is endless, especially with so many colorful types nowadays. Even then, no one team has as many fun personalities as The Bulls did in 1998, reflective of a team that had proven its greatness and only had to remind us of why we should never underestimate their power. I hope this gets you to recognize not only what made Jordan great, but how dynasties can crumble whether from age or other obstacles. We all know it’s coming, but it’s sad to be there when it happens.
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