Bruce Lee gives a fitting introduction to the mixed-martial arts documentary Like Water. “Empty your mind, be formless,” he urges. “Shapeless, like water…be water, my friend.”
Suddenly the scene cuts as a man, dressed in gym shorts, climbs into an octogon-shaped ring surrounded by thousands of screaming fans, and proceeds to demolish his opponents fight after fight after fight. The commentators scream his praises as his rivals beg for mercy or lie motionless on the canvas floor. It’s hard not to be impressed by the man’s brutal embodiment of Lee’s philosophy. After all, this is Ultimate Fighting’s Middleweight Champion Anderson Silva, a mixed-martial artist and one of the greatest, and most controversial, fighters in history.
The controversy doesn’t take long to spring up. Silva taunts his opponent in the April 10, 2010 championship bout, and wins the belt after stalling for the last few rounds. With the MMA world in an uproar, Like Water follows Silva through the turbulent weeks leading up to his championship defense as he battles injury, separation from his family and the disdain of fans and the media.
It’s not surprising that Like Water focuses much of its attention on Silva’s training. What is surprising, and admirable, is how often the film looks away from the ring and gym, and into Silva’s personal life as he grapples with the fame and pressure mounted on him. Like Water is more than just a sports documentary, it’s a profile of a man and a sport often vilified for their violence, stripped of the manufactured pre-fight hype down to the very human drama of the loving husband and father at its core.
The film is shot in stunning detail. Close up shots of Silva’s glistening body, drenched in sweat and Gatorade and burning a deep orange color in the gym light, bring us even closer to the fighter. We hear his grunts of pain and effort as he smashes his knees and fists into the punching bags held before him. Sometimes Like Water takes this to an extreme, shaking the camera with each strike like the audience was tethered to Silva’s elbow. Thankfully, these moments are few and far between.
More often, the film shows Silva outside the ring, watching television with his sleeping children in Brazil or signing autographs for fans even as his opponent, the square-jawed and loud-mouthed college wrestling champion Chael Sonnen, berates and insults him on a daily basis. Silva’s sense of humor with those closest to him and steely defiance to those who try to get in his way is at the heart of Like Water and makes the film enjoyable even to those who arent dedicated UFC fans. When the two finally meet for pre-fight promo photos, Silva turns to Sonnen and stares directly into his smug face, not blinking, restraining himself from giving Sonnen the victory of having gotten under Silva’s thick skin.
Perhaps most surprising is just how well the movie flows. Director and Cinematographer Pablo Croce was well known for his Grammy-winning work on music videos, but Like Water is his first attempt at a feature length film, and it is an impressive one at that. For someone with little experience directing longer works, and no experience with documentaries, Croce has a natural knack for pacing and narrative. He slides the film’s characters into relatable archetypes, whether it’s Sonnen as the trash-talking frat boy itching for a fight or UFC President Dana White as the frustrated boss, furious with his star employee’s antics.
Silva himself is treated as an enigma, the one complex character in a gaggle of stereotypes. He giggles and laughs with his kids, teases the media and his fans, then hours later taunts and pummels a man into a bloody pulp. Is he the efficient fighter, the loving, joking father, or the chuckling narcissist? Why, Croce seems to ask, can’t Silva be all three?
The plot unfolds with extreme precision, like one of Silva’s patented strikes to the temple. Events are subtly foreshadowed, so even in the film’s final minutes, new revelations have the added ironic punch telegraphed in a throaway line of dialogue in an earlier scene. In fiction, this grasp of storytelling is difficult, but in non-fiction, it’s even harder. A director can’t ask for a rewrite of what happens. He is limited by the truth. That a director like Croce is so effective in his storytelling is his, and Like Water‘s greatest strength.
Everyone loves a good story, and that’s exactly what Pablo Croce’s Like Water gives us. It’s an honest look into the life of a mixed-martial artist, with emphasis on the “art:” B+
UPDATE: The Tribeca Film Festival’s documentary jury apparently also appreciated the director’s potential. Pablo Croce won the “Best New Narrative Director” Prize in this year’s competition.
I found this documentary to essentially be nothing more than a bio sketch of Andrson Silva’s training for an upcoming fight and so I honestly found it rather uncompelling. There were so many places the documentary could have gone, quite frankly, should have gone. I am certain that the reality of what the UFC is really like was encountered while filming Silva. How it really impacts a fighter would have also been encountered so why simply gloss over this, as the documentary certainly does? Did the film makers not encounter what issues Dana White really has/had with Sylva? The documentary merely touches on very compelling realities and simply glosses over them. Perhaps they would not have been given the access to the fighters, to Dana, to the UFC, had they not framed and edited the doumentary in this way. This I can only infer. Such a missed opportunity, in my opinion.