Ilie Nastase was one of the idols of my youth. First of all, thanks to him, tennis found its place for a while in the dull programs of Romanian television during the communist era. Together with his partner and mentor Ion Tiriac, he played in the Davis Cup final three times and lost three times. I was devastated when the two lost the final in Bucharest in 1972. He was a phenomenal athlete, a unique champion at a time when the game of tennis was going through its greatest change in history, and his contribution to this (r)evolution was essential. For the young man I was then, however, he represented something more. He was one of the few Romanians who, without being the president or a spy, could travel all over the world at a time when a passport was an almost impossible dream for the overwhelming majority of the inhabitants of communist Romania. And he was also one of the few male celebrities who appeared (demonstratively and defiantly, I think) with long hair at a time when the militia would round up young men with long hair on the streets and force them to get a haircut. I knew less about his controversial personality at the time and only part of his adventures on and off the tennis courts were known in our country. Over time, I learned more and my opinion about the man Ilie Nastase became more nuanced. When I found out that the team formed by Tudor Giurgiu, Cristian Pascariu and Tudor D. Popescu had made the documentary ‘Nasty‘, I was eager to see it as soon as possible. I only saw it now, a year after its premiere at Cannes 2024, at the Romanian Film Festival in Israel. Many of the things I was expecting are in this film, but there are also some that are missing.
The documentary brings together three types of filmed materials. First of all, there are the sequences filmed on the tennis courts in the 60s and 70s that show this splendid athlete who managed shots that seemed impossible, who played with pleasure and at the same time chatted and flirted with the audience, who annoyed his opponents and constantly argued with the referees. Then there are the interviews conducted either at the time or later and up to today with celebrities of the tennis world and primarily with the great players from Nastase‘s era and those who came after him. What a pleasure to see Stan Smith (Năstase’s archrival and opposite in everything), Billie Jean King, Jimmy Connors, Boris Becker, John MacEnroe, Arthur Ashe talking about Nastase the athlete and the man, most of the time with admiration, sometimes with criticism, never without fondness. Finally, the filmed sequences and interviews are accompanied and packaged in comments from recent interviews with the film’s hero, often alongside Ion Tiriac. The presentation is not chronological, the childhood and beginning of his career appear about halfway through the film, and the climax – the lost final in 1972 – is well placed towards the end.
What I liked: first of all, the sequences filmed on the court, including some of the famous controversial moments. In retrospect, I agree with Nastase in 80% of the situations and I believe that he contributed significantly to raising the level of refereeing and increasing respect for the players. The film captures several essential aspects of the transformation that tennis was going through in those years, from the status of an elitist sport practiced by rich amateurs, who could afford the time, equipment and travel, to professional sport, with all the advantages and disadvantages of the sport transformed into a global televised spectacle and a business that generates colossal amounts of money. The athlete who came from communist Romania was given the opportunity to play an important role in changing the status of the players, their relationships with the referees, even the equipment on the court (he was the first or among the first to use colored jerseys). What I missed were somewhat more professional comments related to this transition, but also to the interviews from that period and to Nastase‘s special status as a professional performance athlete with a Romanian passport. The differences between the interviews in Romanian (for the censored television) and those in the West are visible only to very experienced eyes. The documentary does not delve into more controversial aspects of the athlete’s statements and behavior on and off the tennis court, during his active period and after retirement. I suspect there were limitations here because the filmmakers wanted to secure the collaboration of the great athlete, but my feeling at the end was that too much respect meant less documentary acuity. Anyway, thanks for the nostalgia bath!