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For those unfamiliar with this particular fight, it is popularly considered to represent a defining moment in the careers of both Muhammad Ali and George Foreman. The former, at 32, was on the decline and subject to the inevitable waning of his prodigious powers. So, while Ali had once been an awesome champion and remained capable of putting up a decent fight, informed opinion suggested that it was time to relinquish the stage to the younger Foreman. The then world champion, Foreman combined brutal punching power with reasonable speed and an utterly intimidating aura. Having already dominated and demolished several fine boxers (such as Joe Frazier), all that remained for Foreman was Ali (and a probable walk-over). With the dubious assistance of Don King, a fight was arranged -- to be fought in Kinshasa, Zaire for a 10 million dollar purse.
The centre-piece of When We Were Kings, the commanding reason to see this film and an over-arching presence, Ali blazes with charisma and wit. For those who have only glimpsed the unsteady, awkward man of the present, discovering what's underneath is a revelation. Everything that is wrong with the Ali of today is right with the Ali of yesterday; they are the antithesis of each other. Here Ali sparkles with humour, intelligence and charm; a natural performer. Verbally he runs rings around the press, granite in his self-belief that Foreman will be defeated. In sparring Ali looks impressive, yet it's obvious (from archive footage) that he's nowhere near his physical peak. What he does still have, however, is tremendous ring-sense and experience. Allied with the overwhelming support of the Zairean crowd, who look upon Ali as some kind of spokesperson for black pride, a shattering upset seems possible.
In shuddering contrast, Foreman comes across as a fighting machine, physically forbidding and set on annihilating his opponent. Bereft of Ali's eloquence, Foreman is further hampered by personal reticence and being labelled as the figurehead of white, imperialistic America. Undoubtedly Foreman plans to silence his critics in the ring with a successful defence; a possibility thrown off course when he suffers a serious cut to the eye during preparatory work-outs. With just a moment's inattention, the fight itself looks to be in jeopardy. Finally, after much consultation, the date is shifted six weeks into the future (on the cusp of the rainy season).
A strength of When We Were Kings is that while Ali and Foreman take centre stage, there is plenty of space in the wings for the peripheral characters. King, the spider at the heart of this volatile web and almost as charismatic as Ali, remains a fascinating study in contradiction; amoral yet welcoming. Providing the pulsing beat to King's circus, James Brown and B.B. King are superb, locked (with their gyrating audience) into the groove. In some contrast, the dictator Mobutu Sese Seko makes a few brief appearances (since he's funding the fight). As creepy as might be expected, he's no intellectual slouch. Rounding off the cast, Norman Mailer and George Plimpton provide pertinent commentary, especially during the fight. While Spike Lee gets some screen time with comments from a present-day perspective, he seems to have been included purely as a recognisable name.
After the lengthy build-up of tension, enhanced rather than diminished by the six week hiatus, the contest finally comes to pass. Shaking itself free of the talk and hype, the battle is stripped to its bare essentials; two men, gloves and determination. From the first blow Ali looks out-classed and under-powered, yet he surprises all by standing his ground and letting fly unexpected right-hand punches. This merely enrages Foreman though, so Ali moves onto his now-classic "Rope-a-Dope" strategy. Showing tactical superiority, Ali lets Foreman exhaust himself (with a fearful pummelling) then administers the coup de grace in the 8th. It's regrettable that the tactic is not discussed in detail or even shown for very long, yet what we do get to see is astonishing.
The problem with When We Were Kings is that it fails to maximise the return on its opportunity. A clear chronological progression is possible, following the participants through the entire gruelling process, yet instead incidents and interludes occur with no clear connection to the whole. Atmosphere and tension is generated almost by default, since Gast would need to edit abysmally to destroy it, yet an increased edge-of-the-seat potential is obvious. Ali, fortunately, rises above all of this. He is poetic, loquacious, controversial, primed with conviction and one of the rare sportsmen willing to risk everything before they'll compromise themselves. It finally becomes clear just what Ali stood for and what was lost in the years following Foreman, making When We Were Kings inspiring despite its subject matter.
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