Chris & Martina: The Final Set
(USA, 97 min.)
Dir. Rebecca Gitlitz
Prod. Jenna Ricker
After spending years as friendly rivals on the tennis courts, Chris Evert and Martina Navratilova reunite for a shared challenge: beating cancer. Chris & Martina: The Final Set chronicles one of the biggest rivalries in sports’ history as it looks back upon the years in which Evert and Navratilova dominated the tennis circuit. Director Rebecca Gitlitz explores this formative era in women’s tennis through the lens of the unique pairing of the former doubles partners who became epic rivals and dominated the standings for twelve solid years. (In all but 23 weeks from 1975 to 1987, one of them held the top spot in women’s tennis.)
The film volleys between their epic rallies in the 1970s and ’80s and their present-day cancer treatments. The tennis greats enjoy shared strength in their connection as survivors as they reflect upon some epic serves and showdowns. They get along smartly and even have complementary haircuts/wigs, united by close-cropped ’dos. Their shared story offers a personal window into the ways in which competition can be healthy, but also dangerous.
Evert and Navratilova speak candidly about their rivalry, but their perspectives illustrate the forces of media spin as narratives take shape to build publicity and drive hype. The two women also illustrate how opposites attract. On one hand, Evert’s story evokes a tennis ingénue, winning matches on the weekend and heading back to class Monday morning. Petite and with a relatively wholesome image, but aggressive on the courts, one hears male commentators patronisingly refer to her as “Little Chrissy Evert” in the archives. The doc shows how she gave women’s tennis a shot of exposure it needed, albeit via coverage that reeked of sexism.
On the other hand, Navratilova serves a perfect foil. A Czechoslovakian force emerging from a socialist regime, she takes the court by surprise with an aggressive game. She gives the media some extra juice by showing no concerns about making public her relationships with women when other players like Billie Jean King paid dearly for revelations about their sexuality—although she (rightfully) points out that men don’t have to endure the same speculation about their relationships. Commentators contrast her pointedly with Evert’s all-American girl.
However, that rivalry fuels is a decade of sports excellence. Gitlitz and her quartet of film editors—Chad Beck, Devin Concannon, Paul Frost, and Bret Granato—mine years’ of tense matches as Evert and Navratilova face off on the courts. The athletes’ contemporary interviews help craft the narrative, acknowledging grains of truth in the media’s shaping of the story as Evert began as the star with Navratilova entering the fray as an ideal foe. The women tell how the pressure of always facing off against the same player in the finals inspired both of them to train harder and push themselves beyond their limits. Evert, for example, recalls how dominating the clay courts was her forte, so losing a match on her preferred footing had serious implications when Navratilova’s game was better suited to slippery grass and courts.
Meanwhile, Navratilova still seems emotional when reminiscing about what it’s like to excel and ascend with nobody in your corner. She and Evert both recall playing a tense match the day that she planned to defect and become an American citizen. Evert acknowledges her rival being off her game, but not expecting any mercy on the court.
However, even after becoming an American, Navratilova’s speaks of remaining an outsider. The documentary underscores this point when she beats Evert during an epic showdown at the 1984 U.S. Open. The victory seals the gap between them, but the crowd meets it with dead silence. Navratilova self-deprecatingly thanks her friends in the box who clapped, acknowledging from the winners’ circle a fandom and industry with a limited view of who its stars can be. Everts’ devastation, meanwhile, resonates palpably. After winning the first set and feeling confident, she sees the match slip away as Navratilova outplays her. The loss feels like a turning point in their rivalry, which the crowd’s disappointment in Navratilova’s victory underscores. It also emphasizes a talking point among the talking heads: Playing the same opponent for years obviously carries psychological weight when a victory essential distinguishes one player as stronger than the other.
Chris & Martina: The Final Set might not play the high stakes game of a title match, but the stars volley memories amicably. Whoever won more Wimbledon titles or Grand Slams doesn’t ultimately matter by the end. As the women sit together and watch these old games, one sees little evidence of bitterness. Rather, there’s a kinship fuelled by their serve-and-return relationship: one doesn’t spend over a decade facing someone on the court without developing a bond. That mutual respect resonates as they know in their later years not to let another person determine their sense of worth.
