September 5 (2024)
Directed by Tim Fehlbaum
Set during the 1972 Munich Olympics, the film follows an American sports crew forced to pivot from covering athletic triumphs to broadcasting a live hostage crisis. Through this lens, September 5 delivers a gripping new perspective on the billion-viewer broadcast that stunned the world.
At the heart of the story is Geoff, an ambitious young producer eager to prove himself to his legendary boss, Roone Arledge. Alongside German interpreter Marianne, he unexpectedly takes control of the coverage. As conflicting reports spread, time slips away, and the fate of the hostages hangs in the balance, Geoff must confront his own moral compass.
How do you report on an unfolding tragedy when the perpetrators crave the spotlight?
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by Paola Casella
Munich, 1972. Germany hosts the Olympics to show a peaceful, unified nation, far removed from World War II. ABC’s sports team is there to cover swimming star Mark Spitz, unaware they will instead broadcast a Palestinian terrorist attack on the Israeli team to the entire world.
September 5 retraces those tense hours when media coverage became vital for global awareness but also inadvertently interfered with police operations and fueled rampant speculation.
Directed by Swiss-German filmmaker Tim Fehlbaum—who wasn’t yet born in 1972—the film uses this tragic event to explore media responsibility at a time when technology was limited, yet communication was beginning to reach a truly global scale.
That this story resurfaces while conflict rages between Israel and Hamas is a coincidence of timing, yet one that makes this historical account even more resonant.
September 5 isn’t overtly political, yet the issues it raises inevitably are. Editorial decisions carry ideological weight, as seen through Marvin Bader (Ben Chaplin), ABC’s Jewish-American vice president, deeply attuned to antisemitism.
With executive producer Geoffrey Mason (a standout John Magaro) unexpectedly thrust into leadership, he must balance journalistic integrity with the demands of live television—ensuring gripping coverage without slipping into political bias.
Fehlbaum delivers a gripping, era-authentic reconstruction. Production designer Julian R. Wagner and cinematographer Markus Förderer craft a 1970s aesthetic that recalls the urgent realism of that time. While political fervor has waned since, the film captures the tension of historical suspense much like Marco Bellocchio’s Esterno Notte, plunging viewers into the chaos of a moment no one knew how to handle.
The film intertwines archival footage with dramatization, including the infamous masked terrorist on the balcony—an image Spielberg recreated in Munich, the defining cinematic take on September 5, 1972.
At its core, September 5 poses urgent moral questions: What should be shown live to the world? Are ratings more important than the dignity of victims and their families? How can journalism remain responsible while still chasing the story?
Inside the ABC newsroom, another battle unfolds—between the duty to inform 900 million viewers (including the terrorists) and the ambition to break free from sports coverage and into the high-stakes world of current affairs.
As Peter Jennings—then a young Olympic correspondent, later a legendary anchor—says: “This is no longer just about the Olympics.”
The chaos of unfolding events and the relentless chase for breaking news blur the line between professional ethics and personal conscience. The journalists, caught in the moment, struggle to grasp the full weight of their actions.
This leads to a pivotal dilemma: Should live broadcasts be delayed to prevent airing a murder in real time? How can information be verified without spreading falsehoods? These questions, pressing in 1972, feel even more urgent today.
Each character in September 5 is given space for individual expression while also embodying a facet of the film’s broader conversation. The skilled cast brings to life a newsroom of equally sharp professionals, making us hold our breath despite knowing every detail of the tragedy—some even remembering it firsthand. The choice to frame the story through the behind-the-scenes of live television offers a fresh perspective and an urgent, pulse-pounding narrative.
Fehlbaum, alongside co-writers Moritz Binder and Alex David, introduces a fictional character, Marianne Gebhardt (Leonie Benesch, The Teachers’ Lounge), the only link between German police and the media. A determined professional constantly underestimated by an all-male newsroom, her inclusion—whether a nod to modern inclusivity or not—proves effective, highlighting the testosterone-fueled world of sports journalism and how, all too often, it takes a crisis to recognize female talent.
Cinematografo, February 4, 2025
