Minor spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen Novak Djokovic: The wolf in winter.
I just finished watching the premiere of Novak Djokovic: The wolf in winter – the documentary film that takes a look at the tennis legend, directed by Jason Hehir, who also directed The last dance, the documentary 10-episode series about legendary basketball player Michael Jordan.
Under normal circumstances, I would typically wait a few hours -maybe a couple of days- to write a review, just to let my mind cool down and let any lingering emotional connections disappear. However in the case of The wolf in winter, I really do not see any need for it, and that is actually a problem because as you will see in the next lines, the fact that I can post this entry without any second thoughts is the core of my analysis on it.
Documentaries are typically made with an easily identifiable goal in mind: to transmit a clear message to the audience that conveys a deep insight into the subject in question, so that the viewer can see or learn something they had not known. It could be one or multiple things. Let’s take a look at a few examples.
The main message you end up with at the end of The last dance is that, while Jordan retired at the peak of his powers -pretty much completing his “last dance” by winning his sixth championship- you end up feeling that he left the NBA in 1998 thinking that a seventh championship could have been achieved the following season of 1998-99, and that he feels he left that chance slip. This can be concluded based on everything that has been established and built over the ten episodes: the fact that Michael was a gifted athlete above everyone else, but more importantly the fact that whenever Michael took something personal, he would completely dedicate himself towards reaching that goal, whether it was winning a basketball championship, or some meaningless coin throwing betting game with the stadium’s staff. You learn all of this looking at a deeper insight into Jordan’s experiences, his emotions, and the way he responds to them when looking at them retrospectively.
On a documentary like Senna, where the person in question is not involved in the production (in Senna’s case because sadly he was not alive), a message can still be communicated, albeit in a more personal perspective from whoever led the effort to make the documentary happen. IE: in Senna, there are multiple messages such as: 1) he was a fierce competitor who overcame all types of adversities; 2) he probably would not have tragically died during the San Marino Gran Prix, had he retired as his friends asked him to. Regardless of the quantity or type of messages, the point is that the conclusion aligns with the theme of the documentary.
In The wolf in winter though, it seems that Djokovic intends to transmit a message, however the intended effect of the documentary ends up relaying something different to the audience. The reason why I state this is because, for a documentary of who arguably is the greatest player of all time, you do not get anything other than pretty much what we already know about Djokovic:
- He is from Serbia and was scouted as a natural talent by Monica Seles’ coach.
- His parents literally devoted their entire lives and financial resources to support his development.
- He grew up living through suffering of the Yugoslav war, and owing money to various lenders.
- After being know as the tour’s clown, he crashed Federer and Nadal’s dominance and became the bad guy for disrupting their rivalry and more importantly, beating both of them in their terms, and surpassing them.
- He was deported from Australia.
- He is a competitor, we get it, and he still wants to compete and win Grand slam number 25 – this one being the obvious message he tries to transmit with this whole fiasco.
All of these are things any decent tennis fan knows. Therefore, we never get to know who Djokovic is and what motivates him at a personal level. What’s even worse is that he barely shares anything, instead letting other people talk about him. So rather than us learning directly from the source, we have Andre Agassi and two other reporters telling us personal things that should be coming directly from him. Additionally, I was flabbergasted of how much screen time Agassi was given -considering he barely coached Djokovic for less than a year and with unsuccessful results-, especially over people with a closer relationship such as Marian Vajda, Goran Ivanisevic, Boris Becker and even Rafael Nadal, who not only had known him for a longer time, but also are some of the primary protagonists that were part of the best moments of his career. Instead, they are given a single 5-second line and they never show up again. Even Pete Sampras, makes a completely unexpected brief appearance, completely surprising to say the least considering how private he is when it comes to these public affairs. Sampras’ participation is actually comical, with him complimenting Djokovic by saying “I have never seen anything like him”. Well no shit Pete, thank you for discovering warm water and stating what over one hundred million tennis fans already know! Obviously he is not to blame for the bad production.
Here’s a list of topics that were glossed over and would have been great to learn about:
- His development as a junior, including the offer Great Britain made him to switch nationalities, and his early matches vs. Murray and other contemporaries.
- His idols and role models.
- His arrival on the tour, including the experience of playing eventual tournament winner Marat Safin in the 2005 Australian Open first round, as his first Grand Slam match.
- His 2007 breakthrough year, including the Canadian Masters where he successively beat world numbers 3 (Roddick), 2 (Nadal) and 1 (Federer).
- His first Grand Slam final at the 2007 US Open, and whether he realized he could have beaten Federer and won that tournament.
- The pivotal 2010 Davis Cup title.
- The seven consecutive wins in finals vs. Nadal between 2011 and 2012.
- The slump period between Roland Garros 2012 and Wimbledon 2014.
- The Djokovic slam.
- How he dealt with his sidelining elbow injury and the miraculous comeback he staged.
- His dominance over the next generation between 2019 and 2023.
- His actual feelings about Federer and Nadal. Is he aware he is better than them? How did he prepare himself to face them? What were his strategies?
- Whether he feels he in his prime could handle Sinner and Alcaraz.
…and so many other things.
The only new thing we learn is about the Serbian word he uses to encourage himself when everyone and everything is against him.
The most disappointing part was the segment about his deportation from Australia in 2022. They spent way too much time on it, unnecessarily by all means, going over something that not only at this point everybody has forgotten, but more importantly, in the end did not have any significant impact on the big picture of his career and what he accomplished after that.
In Senna, you witness Ayrton’s emotional struggles, as a competitor, as a person, dealing with the political challenges associated in F1, how he was robbed of many victories, such as the 1989 Japan Grand Prix, which led to his intentional crashing into Alain Prost the following year – in a blatant act of personal revenge. The point is you are able to connect with Senna and his deepest personal emotions.
In The last dance, you go through Jordan’s personal and professional evolution. You learn how he felt in his rookie season and the shock of joining a team that was doing recreational drugs, rather than training to win championships. You learn of his struggle against the Detroit Pistons and how with Phil Jackson’s strategies, the Bulls were able to overcome them. You learn about the fire that fueled that fantastic 1993 season where Charles Barkley was named MVP, and how that trigged Jordan to prove he was the better player by beating Barkley in the finals.
In The wolf in winter, all you get is a bunch of people telling you what you already know: that Djokovic is a great player and he cares a lot about his family. Jelena had so much screen time and her words carried so much depth, that at one point I felt like the documentary was about her. No matter how many close-ups takes you do, Novak feels remotely distant. It is unclear if he is attempting to shed the image many around the world have of him as a cold-blooded, calculating, egotistical, arrogant, or not, because he comes across as a robot devoid of any emotion. Therefore, I am not really sure what is he trying to say or accomplish with this documentary.
For the most part, biographies and documentaries go hand-in-hand with the personality of the person. When you read Pete Sampras’ book, A champions mind, you get exactly what expect: Sampras was always a quiet, uncharismatic, introvert player who was kept to himself. You could see this by the way he carried himself, both on and off the court. So you should not be expecting some sort of dramatic personal reveal. His book contains certain emotional moments and personal experiences that he shares with genuine sincerity, but overall his story is definitely not filled with any major drama or desire to beg for attention like it happens with Agassi’s biography, Open. Ever since Andre stormed the tour in 1986 with his unkempt hair and torn shorts, you could see he was an extrovert, outspoken, flamboyant person, who was calling out to the world that he wanted to be the center of attention, he wanted to make a statement, and he was carrying many personal burdens, which is why he was overcompensating them with his erratic behavior both on and off the court. So when I look at Djokovic fired up on the court, whether if it’s bursting out a loud roar after hitting an unbelievable winner against Nadal, or by giving that intense fiery stare of absolute concentration at a critical moment, you know that there is an emotional volcano inside of him. Therefore, you there is an expectation of him sharing this emotional output that simply does not happen in Wolf in winter. Sampras speaks confidently in his book when without hesitation, he names himself as one of the five greatest players of all time. So does Jordan in The last dance. In Wolf in winter, you don’t really buy it when Djokovic says that there are days he feels like the greatest player on the planet. It feels like he is being cautious and does not want to say how it really feels like to have beaten all his rivals, soundly and convincingly, shutting them down many times, including Nadal and Federer.
It seems to me that considering the amount of time spent and effort done into the whole Covid ordeal, along with the excessive participation of people talking on his behalf, that the whole goal of the documentary is that, while Djokovic definitely does not care whether people like him or hate him, I believe that he certainly does care about people not being able to see the world from his perspective. Unlike other star athletes like Agassi himself, who definitely had to deal with several personal insecurity issues (the obvious conclusion one can draw from his book), it is safe to say that not only Djokovic does not have low self-esteem, but also he is not looking for any self-validation or approval by anyone, and he is not interested in being idolized or admired in anyway. He is just wants people to understand him and nothing more.
I feel disappointed at Hehir as well, for failing to materialize what could have been another excellent product. This documentary should have definitely been a multi-episode series. You can spend hours in a bar with your fan friends, drinking as many beers as possible and debating who is the greatest legend between Jordan and Djokovic. Regardless, there is no way the Jordan’s fourteen year career as a member of the Chicago Bulls was perfectly summarized in ten one-hour episodes, while Djokovic twenty-two year career was condensed in 92 minutes.
HR