Ilie Năstase was undoubtedly one of the most memorable athletes of his time. He won many important titles and holds the distinction of being the first ATP world number 1. He was also an absolute character. This documentary by Tudor Giurgiu, Cristian Pascariu and Tudor Popescu does him justice and proves deliciously entertaining at times, but is short on biographical inquiry and weak on structure, leaving many interesting avenues unexplored.
We never quite make it to Năstase’s formative years, at least in no significant depth, but are introduced to his volcanic nature through his partnership with Ion Țiriac – his doubles partner and temperamental opposite. Their conflicting natures make them very easy to watch and this is a feeling that gets carried over throughout the movie. Whether we hear from the likes of Arthur Ashe, Jimmy Connors, Billie Jean King or Boris Becker, there is warmth, admiration and a bemused understanding that through all his antics, that’s just the way “Nasty” was – and beyond the ugly, there was a very generous guy.
Nasty dips its toes into the political and social influences and turmoils of the late 20th century, but makes sure to not get them very wet. The movie is foremost an ode to days gone by, to the era when professional tennis was just becoming professional. This allowed for a different, one would argue more interactive dynamic between those participating, to a camaraderie that is now a thing of the past. It was an era of informality, one in which someone like Năstase, who would now be deemed intolerable, could exist.
It’s not like the filmmakers are trying very hard to explore the Năstase effect outside of these parameters. A cursory mentioning of his racist “gaffe” regarding Serena Williams and some cutting comments from one of the tennis journalists featured is about as deep as the critiques go, ascribing everything else to “those were the days” and enriching flamboyancy.
I find the movie does well in establishing the intrinsic nature of its protagonist and the struggle many an aggressively extroverted person might have in staying professional. The present day structures most likely prune out and act against such characters, denying on some level their chance to perform, to be more than just one thing. That being said, should there be any kind of leniency towards this kind of non-conformism? There are a couple of scenes with the likes of Ashe or McEnroe fuming, to then just instantly be disarmed by Năstase’s post match charm – as if he had somehow disassociated himself completely from the intense antagonism on the court. It’s fascinating to watch, endearing to some degree, but I’m sure it can also be labelled in harsh modern-day terms.
This tolerance is ultimately earned by the team who has assembled the movie. They succeed in using a lot of effective archival footage, some colourful input from the various present-day participants, thereby achieving an easy flow that does, at least up to a point, make you wonder what craziness can follow next. It’s a portrait made with heart that captures the passion and the essence of the man.
The documentary does suffer in some elements though – first and foremost its structure and rhythm. If you want to be dramatic about it, you can just say the whole movie is one hundred minutes of hearing how talented, enjoyable and frustrating Năstase was. This feeling is amplified by the a-chronological timeline imposed, with to and fro meant to generate explosive dynamism. An inadvertent consequence is that it also undercuts the sense that there is any kind of evolution in Năstase as either an athlete or as a person.
I also felt like there was a cluttering of talking heads, some there just to increase the movie’s potential exposure (Nadal, for example), others to make numbers and paint this picture of how pervasive Năstase’s influence was. I would much rather have had a tighter, but representative selection or, even, a pure archival movie.
That said, it’s hard to stand your ground against the sheer charm of the man at his peak. It would also be unfair to focus on these shortcomings, given how effective the documentary is in conveying this madly romantic character that has become so short in supply today. Sure, there’s also room for more nuance, but when you draw the line, Nasty is one of the most entertaining sports documentaries that I’ve seen of late.
I’ll go on and rate it as highly as Hai, România (2024), but I’ll admit my emotional bias there, and state firmly that Nasty is the better sports movie. 7
tributary stu 