Munich Olympics Massacre Drama ‘September 5’ Stuns Venice Film Festival

VENICE, Italy—“They’re all gone.” Those words, delivered by Jim McKay, host of ABC’s Wide World of Sports , are some of the most haunting ever spoken on American television. McKay uttered them when announcing the death of 11 Israeli athletes and coaches, who had been murdered by the Black September terrorist group at the Summer Olympics in Munich in 1972.

That fateful day—September 5, 1972—has been the subject of cinematic inquiry before, most notably in Steven Spielberg ’s Munich . Tim Fehlbaum's September 5 , which just premiered at the Venice Film Festival , puts a new perspective on the events, shifting focus to the American broadcasting team that followed the hostage crisis, resulting in one of the most-viewed moments in American television history.

There’s bound to be controversy over September 5 coming out now given the Israel-Palestine crisis, but anger towards this film is entirely misguided. The film does not refer nor does it draw any parallels to any current events. What it does present is a powerfully told, tightly wound, and riveting story of an American sports broadcasting team on a single day reporting on a major event in world history. It’s entirely apolitical in scope.

Live broadcasting is intense, fast-paced, and requires endless quick-on-your-feet thinking, something September 5 delivers in spades. At a brief 91 minutes, nearly all the fat is trimmed from a blinding script by Fehlbaum and Moritz Binder, which rarely distracts itself from the intensity of the hostage situation and the behind-the-scenes efforts of the broadcasting crew to ensure the world could stay informed in real time. It’s a clever script full of fascinating detail, offering a compelling view into the world of live television that's amped up with considerable intensity given the crisis unfolding in front of their eyes.

September 5 is riveting when it maintains its focus on the broadcasting room, but attempts to flesh out the narrative beyond the hostage situation feel clumsy. For example, German translator Marianne (Leonie Benesch, The Teacher’s Lounge ) experiences sexism, but it’s resolved nearly as fast as the problem is introduced. Moments like these are trying to reach for something deeper, but they end up as dead air, slowing down what’s largely a fast-paced experience.

Felbauhm has a great handle on his actors, delivering winning performances across the ensemble. Coming off career-best work in last year’s Memory , Peter Sarsgaard is terrific here as the no-nonsense producer Roone Arledge, who spearheaded the efforts to keep the broadcast with the sports team on the ground in Munich and preventing it from getting in the hands of the news team back in America.

Sarsgaard channels ruthlessness in his decision-making and compassion for his team makes it clear why nobody questions his authority. As Geoff, John Magaro is thrown into the heat of the broadcasting room and handles his new responsibilities with aplomb. Magaro’s star has been on the rise since his role in last year’s Past Lives and he does brilliant work here. A great deal of the film’s tension rests on his shoulders. You can feel the intensity pour off of his face; you’d believe Magarao has had a lifetime of experience in the booth.

While September 5 immerses itself in the hostage crisis that swept the 1972 Olympics, it’s not invested in the hows and whys of why the situation happened, nor would it make sense for it to be. This is a film about the broadcasting team and their remarkable efforts and flexible thinking that allowed unprecedented coverage of a terrorist attack unfolding live. This is a film of constant noise, from the whirring of machines to the staticky crackling of microphones to the endless exchanges of dialogue both on the live broadcast and in the booth as the team tries to figure out what’s next. There’s so much noise that when Fehlbaum opts for silence in a key moment, the weight of that silence is as crushing as the visual that accompanies it.

Wisely, the film rejects oversentimentality or schmaltz when dealing with the broadcasting team. It celebrates their victories and doesn’t shy away from their failures either, like in a heartstopping scene involving the discovery of a television screen (it’s far more intense than it sounds). Chillingly, while these men and women experience every imaginable emotion in their extraordinary 24 hours, broadcasting for them is ultimately a job. At the end of it all, they get to go back to their families and do it all again tomorrow. Those who lost their lives aren’t as lucky.

Read more at The Daily Beast.