There were great hopes for the 20th edition of the Summer Olympics in the German city of Munich in 1972. For West Germany, the event was to provide a public opportunity for the nation to demonstrate its post-World War 2 reinvention as a modern, democratic and liberal country no longer burdened by its horrific Nazi past and leading the way in the celebration of the diverse races, nations, cultures and, of course, the athletic prowess, of all the citizens of the globe. It would also prove a perfect opportunity to erase from the world’s memory the terrible spectre of the 1936 Berlin Olympics, used by Adolf Hitler as propaganda theatre for the Nazis. In the new, technologically advanced era of colour television, the Munich games were also the first to be broadcast live across the world via the innovation of satellite technology and, for the first 10 days of the games, the world’s eyes were glued to their TV screens for the epic full-colour sporting dramas that Munich offered.
Today, the 1972 Munich Olympics aren’t remembered for the remarkable achievements of Jewish-American swimmer Mark Spitz, who won seven gold medals in eight days; or the brilliant gymnastic skills of 17-year-old Soviet Union citizen Olga Korbut who won three gold medals and executed the first backflip on the uneven bars that are still named after her; nor even American marathon champion Frank Shorter’s breaking of a 64-year shutout of his country in that event. Instead, the Munich Olympics are most remembered for what happened in the early morning of the 10th day as an estimated 900-million people watched the tragic events of the world’s first televised terrorist attack.
The tragedy of September 5 1972, when eight members of the Palestinian militant group Black September entered the unpoliced Olympic Village, killed two members of the Israeli Olympic delegation, took a further nine hostage and demanded the liberation of 200 political prisoners held by Israel in return for their lives, have been the basis of a number of on-screen interpretations and investigations. There’s the heavy-handed, hammy William Holden-starring thriller 21 Hours in Munich, made in 1976; Kevin McDonald’s Oscar-winning 1999 documentary One Day in September; and Munich, Steven Spielberg’s epic, if controversial, tale of steel-eyed Jewish revenge in the aftermath of the attack, released in 2005 and nominated for five Oscars. What none of these films explored was how the images that burned the events of that day into the consciousness of a generation came to be broadcast, and what challenges those responsible faced in the wake of this completely new moment in the history of live television.
Enter Swiss director Tim Fehlbaum who, with September 5, has crafted a taut, lean examination of the little-celebrated story of the ABC sports team who found themselves thrust into the role of news reporters, fighting off their bosses’ demands that the ABC news team take over. They faced ethical questions arising from the real possibility that they might become the first US TV outfit to deal with the horrific sight of a real person being killed on live television.
In 94 expertly directed minutes, Fehlbaum sets up the swift descent of the games from hopeful German success to abject failure, and the pressures placed on the ABC team to tell the story of the kidnapped athletes, their terrifying situation and the ultimately tragic ending.
The reliably excellent John Magaro stars as Geoffrey Mason, the newbie control room head whose early morning arrival for his shift turns out to be the beginning of a day that will come to define his life. Shots are heard coming from the Olympic Village and all hell breaks loose. Thrust into the driving seat, Mason must make a series of quick-thinking decisions as his bosses, Marvin Bader (Ben Chaplin) and Roone Arledge (Peter Sarsgaard) set about fighting for information and valuable satellite feed time to cover the unfolding drama. Mason’s greatest help and ally in the chaos is fellow newbie, German translator Marianne Gebhardt (Leonie Benesch), who finds herself acting as translator, researcher and field reporter over the course of one fateful day.
More than half-a-century since the massacre it's hard for some raised in the digital age to understand what broadcasting was like in an era when camera rolls had to be developed, blow-up images had to be taken and processed and cameras weighed more than a fridge. Fehlbaum uses these analogue era obstacles to full effect to build the tension as the story unfolds. He’s supported in racking up the tension by a superb cast who bring home the consequences of the ethical dilemmas and broadcasting challenges that were ultimately overcome to produce footage that burned into public and historical consciousness.
By setting almost the entire film within the claustrophobic confines of the ABC control room, Fehlbaum successfully shifts the focus away from the infamous events and onto the brave, pioneering journalists who made sure the world was watching them. In an age when “mainstream media” is blamed for distortions and subjective manipulation by everybody from the conspiracy-mad far-right to the conspiracy-addled far-left, September 5 offers a fitting tribute to the importance of old-school journalism offering the closest version of the truth available and ensuring that terrible events aren't ignored.
- September 5 is on circuit
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