“Every man wants to be a macho, macho man
To have the kind of body always in demand…”
It’s time to talk documentary with a funny little classic here. This manner of filmmaking is perhaps among the most fascinating of all—supposedly a ‘real’ representation of our world, yet often by human nature itself conforming to needs of narrative and storytelling structure as much as any fictional work. Over the decades, we’ve had everything from Orson Welles’ ‘F For Fake’ (indulgent, but highly influential in editing methods and perhaps yet more topical now) to conspiracy-peddling crap like ‘Loose Change’, to the likes of ‘Super Size Me’, which in detail purveyed the brilliant revelation of how eating a billion Big Macs in a row is in fact not a good idea.
But on the flip side to that comes 1977’s Pumping Iron, a fairly simple work that nonetheless neatly illustrates how to make a narrative out of even the most specific things. It’s to do with one of the two great male bodily obsessions—that of muscle size! The other great male bodily obsession…well, you can look that up yourself, frankly. If you also want your internet algorithms to start laughing at you.
Either way, our film here takes us to California—a place where, let’s face it, most people either never go to the gym at all, or spend far too much time there than is actually healthy. Our focus is several competing bodybuilders, primarily Lou Ferrigno (you might remember him as the Incredible Hulk of his time, if you’re either old, or like me and watch buttloads of old stuff), and, of course, the Austrian ubermensch himself, Arnold Schwarzenegger. Prior to Conan or the Terminator, this was what made Arnie a household name—and with him immediately domineering the proceedings with boisterousness and literal sheer physical presence, it’s not hard to see why.
And here is where we get to the meat of things—as I learned myself on my studies, when you’re working in documentary, the hook, and by extension your story, is critical. Director George Butler here originally intended to follow the physical growth of one Bud Cort, but soon switched him out—and wisely too, as we’d otherwise be left with the gripping narrative of ‘This big guy decided to become even bigger. And that’s precisely what he did. The end’.
Instead, we get not only a deeper psychological look of the players involved, but a rivalry of sorts between ‘underdog hero’ Ferrigno and ‘domineering bad guy’ Schwarzenegger. Ferrigno’s the humble guy who’s close to his father, Arnold’s the super-competitive alpine giant surrounded by an entourage…the real proceedings probably weren’t quite so intense, but with the right framing, the right presentation, any such narrative can be made into a thrilling struggle for ascendency through skilful editing and selection.
There’s more to it, of course—we get a closer look at the personalities of all involved, like the one contestant who’s still keeping his connections to his Italian village, or the family life of another. We even see Schwarzenegger’s own rather complex approach to things, explaining not unconvincingly how bodybuilding can be compared to the physical artistry of the likes of ballet. And, well, in no minced words, he also graces us with his description of, erm, exactly how much he enjoys working out.
And on a note that the filmmakers seem to more subtlety intend, there’s also the deeper things that drive our macho men here, seemingly more harrowing childhoods that spur them to pursue physical growth to the limits. Our initial contestant Katz got bullied as a child, as was Ferrigno—and though the film touches on it rather lightly, we also know now that Arnold himself saw his family suffer under a war-ravaged father. I suppose there’s some inspiration to be taken from all of them choosing to try and arise beyond that like this.
That’s why Pumping Iron remains to me as a good an example as any for those hoping to get a feel for documentary filmmaking—taking something as seemingly prosaic as dudes working out in a gym, and really getting into the meat of it—erm, so to speak. Hell, there’s plenty more examples that prove you can weave a compelling reality-based narrative out of pretty much anything, provided again you remember that all-important sense of narrative and character. And why yes, as the crowds of excited women and discerning men we glimpse in the film demonstrate, there’s also no shortage of certain kinds of visual draw here either, so take it all for what it’s worth!
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