![A still from 'Federer: Twelve Final Days'.](https://mc-webpcache.readwhere.in/mcms.php?size=medium&in=https://mcmscache.epapr.in/post_images/website_350/post_43131253/full.png)
Director Asif Kapadia is known to find the narrative of his documentaries in archival footage. His most acclaimed ventures: Senna (2010), Amy (2015) and Diego Maradona (2019), were all films stitched together after sifting through hundreds (probably thousands) of hours of footage.
Few filmmakers read between the lines better than Kapadia. Hence, filming the last two weeks of the career of tennis superstar Roger Federer was always going to be a challenge for him, in terms of visual style. The subject matter would only have so much matter, the scope of inquiry would be thinner compared to what Kapadia is usually accustomed to. >
Like most of his films, Kapadia starts with the archival footage. Federer plays some ludicrous shots – including that impossible forehand slice against Andy Roddick at Basel in 2002, or the tweener against Novak Djokovic at the US Open in 2009, the documentary initially seems to focus on the beauty of Federer’s footwork. Especially, how his feet criss-cross during a point, like a ballerina. >
It’s easy to see Kapadia loves his subject, and unlike his other undertakings, his subject is alive to answer all of his questions. However, the only problem here is – how uncontroversial and conflictless the entire exercise is. Kapadia’s non-fiction features have usually examined controversial subjects, the price of genius, grappled with complex legacies, and studied how the special ones become the outcast. To be fair, this isn’t meant to be a deep-dive. Like the film’s marketing material mentions, Federer: Twelve Final Days was initially meant to be a home video for the Federers, which eventually found its way to a wide release.
![](https://cdn.thewire.in/wp-content/uploads/2024/06/21145947/Screenshot-2024-06-21-at-2.59.16%E2%80%AFPM-1024x563.png)
A still from ‘Federer: Twelve Final Days’.>
Directed by Kapadia and Joe Sabia, the film is a respectable farewell – from a distance – rather than the dissection of a legacy. It begins at the end, on the day Federer is recording his retirement statement in 2022. The air in the room seems heavy, the eight-time Wimbledon champion appears to have jitters. He’s kept a pack of tissues handy, in case the tears start halfway into the statement. He gets through the recording in one take with the same ease he’s conducted himself in public life for over 25 years. As a renowned athlete, Federer’s image has been unnaturally clean. Is the spotless reputation a reflection of a remarkably down-to-earth, sincere, well-mannered athlete or is it the result of some meticulous PR curation? It’s a bit of both – and if that is the case, what do these individual components comprise? I would’ve hoped for an answer to these questions in a more serious documentary.>
The film continues in the slick vein, as everything under the purview of brand Federer. The jackets worn by the Federers, the linen in their study, the shiny Mercedes that he drives into his office – not a single smudge on a window, no visible speck of dirt or a blot of lasagna anywhere. On the phone with Tony Godsick, Federer’s long-time business manager, is Anna Wintour. It all feels a bit too handpicked. But it’s only when you begin to look beyond the hyper-controlled setting for this non-fiction piece, is when the joys of a film like this begin to reveal themselves. >
The way Federer listens to his retirement announcement all over again after posting it, makes him seem like another mortal. He is admiring his post, maybe? Perhaps refreshing to see the number of likes on it? Even outside the court, what makes Federer such a loved entity is the way he brings elegance to everything he does. Whether it’s a photoshoot, a promotional video, a sound-byte at a press conference or a one-on-one interview, rarely do his words feel out of place.
Here, Federer talks frankly about his rival Novak Djokovic – how he didn’t rate him highly after he beat him during the late 2000s, and his revival into a beast. He acknowledges what probably repelled some of his fans away from his rival – “His (Djokovic) deep focus probably scared a few fans away!” Federer’s long-time and favourite rival – Rafa Nadal – is given a proper ‘main character’ entry sequence. As a van arrives at the hotel accommodating all players taking part in the Laver Cup 2022, anticipation builds. Then Nadal steps out of it, high-fiving with the players around. >
There’s a deeply emotional press conference, where Federer talks about how “he’s glad that he is the first to retire” among the ‘Big four’ comprising him, Nadal, Djokovic and Andy Murray. All four of them have been carrying degrees of injuries over a few years – Murray has been battling with a metal hip, Nadal has had recurring ankle, knee and hip problems, and only recently did Djokovic pull out of the French Open 2024 because of a bad knee. The press conference feels like a time for the group to introspect about their future. “We’re closer to the end than the beginning,” Nadal says while answering a question. It’s a moment where even fans deliberate a time where neither of these four players will be competing. >
![](https://cdn.thewire.in/wp-content/uploads/2024/06/21150110/Screenshot-2024-06-21-at-2.58.44-1024x495.png)
A still from ‘Federer: Twelve Final Days’.>
Kapadia and Sabia’s film dutifully showcases highlights of Federer’s last competitive match, a doubles he played alongside Nadal. On the cusp of victory, holding a match point, it’s probably poetic justice that Federer loses his final match. It humanises the legend, lowers him from the pedestal, and reminds everyone how rarely does sport follow a script. After the tears on court, which resulted in that already iconic picture of Federer and Nadal holding hands, the crew enters the changing room where a teary-eyed Nadal, Djokovic, the rest of the players and coaching staff get an impromptu thank you speech from Federer.
It’s only then that the ‘miracle’ of the situation actually dawn upon you – a player like Federer, bowing out with so much grace. Accepting his physical limitations, being at peace with his decision, all the rivals coming together to celebrate his farewell – maybe some things can have a fairytale script. I just wish Kapadia and Sabia’s film could transcend this ‘perfect’ sendoff. It’s a comforting watch for the fans, and will surely result in a few tears by the end, but this is still Kapadia’s least curious film to date. My reaction can be best summed up by something Robert De Niro said in a recent advertisement with Federer – “No conflict, no edge. It’s too perfect.”>