Do super-achievers owe us, and themselves, anything?
Politicians, ugly buildings and whores all get respectable if they last long enough.
The above quote from Chinatown (1974) holds good for the professions and objects mentioned therein, but not necessarily for super-achievers - probably because no one expects any stellar achievements from either politicians, ugly buildings or whores. Super-achievers lasting long enough, however, don’t ensure respectability. In fact the result is, more often than not, counterproductive.
I recently watched two documentaries - one was on Boris Becker and the other one was on Arnold Schwarzenegger (review below in the Keep Watching section). What struck me about them was the fact that both of them were wise enough to leave their respective comfort zones when they were at the top of their game. The timing of Becker’s exit can be debatable, but Schwarzenegger’s is not. It’s a different thing altogether that their post-core-competency careers took on completely different trajectories. But that’s possibly a topic for another post.
Coming back to Becker and Schwarzenegger. Especially, Schwarzenegger. Here are his statistics – 4 Mr. Universe titles, 6 Mr. Olympia titles in a row. A comeback after 5 years to win one more Mr. Olympia title. Which basically meant that if he had decided to continue without a break, he would possibly have been Mr. Olympia 10 years in a row with a staggering 11 titles in his kitty! But in 1975, at the peak of his career, he just gave it all up and decided to pivot into Hollywood. Having singlehandedly birthed and dominated the one-man-army action genre, he pivoted to more meaty (pun unintended) roles that explored his acting chops (there I go again with puns on meat!) in comedy. And then he did a repeat of what he had done with his bodybuilding career with acting as well. He just gave it all up and ran for Governor. Of one of the largest states, California, no less. And won. Twice. And then came back to acting! At 76, he is still unstoppable. But not everyone is Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Becker, on the other hand, has had a largely tumultous life post retirement comprising mostly downs from poor business decisions, bad relationships, infidelity, greed, refusing to become a man from a man-child, believing that his stardom would help him find a way out, etc etc. The only ups and years of any consequence have been when he has been coach to the likes of Novak Djokovic. That seems to be the only time he kind of comes into his own. The only sound decision he took was to leave the sport before he became an official has-been.
These documentaries took me down the road of figuring out the trajectories of super-achievers.
Almost every profession has their share of superstars who became has-beens but refused to get the hint. As a result, the landscape of super-achievers is littered with superstars (not just human, but also in the form of content) who not only didn’t know when to stop, but made a very public mess of themselves, their performances, and the image that they had so painstakingly built in people’s minds which the people savoured … before it started leaving a bitter aftertaste.
In sports, there are very few notable examples, especially from the ones playing team sports, where superstars have not outstayed their welcome. In the recent past only M.S. Dhoni’s name comes to mind for making a timely and phased exit from various formats of the game that he represented the country in. (As far as the IPL is concerned, it’s a circus anyway and as a God-like ringmaster it doesn’t matter how well or how poorly he performs. People don’t lose sleep over their favourite IPL team losing because of an ageing player.) Something similar has been expected from Virat Kohli since the last couple of years … but the fact that the expectations have been around the last couple of years itself says a lot about him too outstaying his peak. It’s just too difficult for the die-hards to see a lion of a leader play second fiddle, while clearly not enjoying it. Without being at the helm, he looks like a lost man on the field. The same fist pumps that charged up an entire nation have started looking caricature-ish.
Anyway, save for some notable examples like Bjorn Borg or Pete Sampras or Usain Bolt or Michael Phelps, there are more examples of those who outstayed their welcome than those who left on a high. A look at the stalwarts below tells a rather sorry story …
You could also add Roger Federer and Serena Williams and Venus Williams to the list. Even Rafael Nadal is not sparing us of his ignominy.
At least the likes of Schumacher, Tyson, Ali, the Williams sisters, Federer or Nadal were/are into individual sports where they didn’t end up becoming a burden on their teams. They didn’t usurp someone else’s spot resting on past laurels. (To Leander Paes goes the unique honour of becoming a burden in what is largely an individual sport – he refused to give up his place for the Olympics or Davis Cup for so many years that three succeeding generations of tennis players probably gave up on the sport altogether.)
In the field of music the Swedish group ABBA or the British group The Police come to mind as examples of leaving when on a high, though them putting a full stop to performing had much to do with their internal squabbles. Or take the case of Wham! where the two guys just decided that they wouldn’t have much to contribute musically as a band and that they might as well call it quits amicably – possibly the only case where a split has been amicable. But then we also have the likes of Lata Mangeshkar starting from the 1990’s being given company by her younger sister, both of whom successfully achieved hitherto untouched levels of shrillness where even autotune gave up trying to bring them back in tune.
A friend of mine captured the nation’s unsaid trauma when he said that Lata had transposed herself from being the ‘nightingale of India’ to becoming ‘the nightmare of India’.
We also have a load of international has-been singers who are on their farewell tour, led by the grand daddies of them all – Rolling Stones – who people think have been having their farewell tours since the last couple of decades. (Incidentally, they have released a brand new album last month!)
In the field of movies, it is easy to transcend from leading actor to supporting cast. But even then we have several examples where we feel that it is about time they hung up their boots. What exactly has Rajinikanth got to prove anymore? Or Clint Eastwood? Or Al Pacino? Robert De Niro? Or Amitabh Bachchan, before he decided to get himself a salt-n-pepper hair piece, a white goatee and fancy eyewear? Or Dev Anand when he was alive and (literally) kicking, or rather trying to kick, the crap out of villains as a stooping almost 90 year old? While their energy and zest is commendable, shouldn’t they take it a little easy? Why should some of the greatest artistes the world of cinema have known reduce themselves to caricatures?
Which is where someone like Quentin Tarantino stands out as having gone on record and committed that his oeuvre as a director would not go beyond 10 films. In his words:
“Like I said, I'm an entertainer: I want to leave you wanting more and not just work – and I don't want to work to diminishing returns. I don't want to become this old man who's out of touch, when already I'm feeling a bit like an old man out of touch when it comes to the current movies that are out right now.”
The curse of becoming a drag doesn’t spare the world of on-air content either. There are those that called it a wrap well in time – Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, Succession, Seinfeld, Sopranos, The Wire, or Friends – when actually they all had a lot more life left in them from a storytelling perspective. (Full Disclosure: I might be part of that minority that can be counted on the fingers of one hand who hasn’t watched neither Seinfeld nor Friends … I know, I know … don’t judge me – my daughter and bro-in-law already do.) Then there are those series (as serials are nowadays called) which refused to end even after multiple generation leaps, change of lead cast, and even change of core plot line. And then there were those who didn’t know how to wrap things up, like Game Of Thrones or Ozark where the finales were damp squibs.
Justifying his decision to wrap up Succession in the fourth season, Jesse Armstrong, the show’s creator reflects, “We could do a couple [more] short seasons, or two more seasons. Or we could go on for ages and turn the show into something rather different, and be a more rangy, freewheeling kind of fun show, where there would be good weeks and bad weeks. Or we could do something a bit more muscular and complete, and go out sort of strong. And that was definitely always my preference.”
Jerry Seinfeld’s legion of fans is the stuff of legend. So one can imagine the pain and the pressure on him of calling it a wrap on one of the greatest shows about nothing to an end. His logic was, “The love affair between the people that were making the show and the audience was so intense. It was so white hot. I had to respect that and I could not go to that point where it starts to age and wither. And it doesn't take long [for something to age and wither]. For example, you go see a comedian and at 1 hour and 10 minutes you love the guy. But at 1 hour and 30 minutes, [you are thinking] ‘eh, I thought he was never gonna finish.’ [That extra 20 minutes and] you walk out with a whole different feeling. It's a small amount of too much [that can negatively influence your perception].”
In the case of Steve Martin it was even more abrupt when he put an end to a glittering 18-year career as a stand-up comedian and shifted gears into acting. A single incident convinced Martin it was the end:
“In 1981 my act was like an overly plumed bird whose next evolutionary step was extinction. One night in Las Vegas, I saw something so disturbing that I didn’t mention it to my friends, my agent, or my manager. It was received in my mind like grim, inevitable news. I was onstage at the Riviera showroom, and the house, as usual, was full. The floor tables were jammed, and the club was ringed with tiers of booths. There were soft lights around the interior wall, which silhouetted the patrons in halos of light. My eyes scanned the room as I worked, seeing heads bobbing and nodding; and then, in one booth in the back, I saw something I hadn’t seen in five years: empty seats. I had reached the top of the roller coaster.”
Martin never did stand-up comedy again. It is a different level of self-awareness to take such a call, especially when you are selling out not just auditoriums, but arenas!
There is a reason why food stuff and pharmaceutical products have a ‘Best Before’ date prominently displayed on their packaging. That detail tells the consumer that the effectiveness of those products will not only diminish greatly, they could very well become toxic and serious health hazards. Those sectors of the industry are legally obligated to inform the public about the ‘Best Before’ dates. While individuals cannot, and should not, be legally obligated to tell people of their ‘Stop By’ date I wonder what kind of obligations do they have to fulfil that they keep trudging along?
My take is that there are two kinds of obligations.
The first one is pretty obvious in that there are legally bound contracts to be fulfilled – irrespective of how much you are, or are not, interested in working, or whether your heart is in it. These contractual obligations end up leading the artistes or super-achievers to live in echo chambers that makes them blind to the slide in their performances. Or maybe they realise, but are handicapped to act on it. Contractual obligations seem to be the bane of creative, artistic and performative freedom.
It had struck me when U2 released their album No Line on the Horizon. For those who know me well, and even those with whom I may have had a brief interaction, will know how much of a U2 fan(atic) I have been the last four decades. We bought tickets to the 360 Degree Tour date in Denver even before we had applied for a U.S. visa. (My visa interview was all about the band – fortunately the interviewer too turned out to be a fan, so the visa became a given.) However the album No Line On The Horizon made me realise that while I am bat-shit crazy about the band, I am not blinded by the blinding lights (couldn’t resist the reference) of their stratospheric stature. That album was such a sub-optimal effort. It capped off a decade of middling albums – All that You Can Leave Behind and How to Dismantle An Atomic Bomb being the predecessors to No Line… The third album looked a tick mark on a contractual obligation of the band agreeing to release no less than three albums in a decade. No wonder it is one of the least played albums in their concert tours. With a really heavy heart, I had all but written them off. Fortunately they came back with stellar back to back albums in the 2010s and redeemed themselves. At least in my eyes.
Another victim of contractual obligations seems to have been The Godfather III. It looked and felt like an afterthought probably because of a contractual obligation, or possibly because Francis Ford Coppola was in dire need of a retirement fund, or possibly because he saw it as a vehicle to launch his daughter. Whatever the reason behind why it was made, it lacked soul. While The Godfather was possibly the best adaptation from a book and is an acknowledged masterpiece, even Part II gave a solid foundation from which Coppola could take flights of fancy to establish the Corleone family’s supremacy. But bereft of any original material to jumpstart from, Part III became a vacuous outing that came across as too much of history repeating itself and a guard of honour for all the smaller characters from Part I.
I am no fan of superhero or sci-fi movies (I think I am about to lose a chunk of my subscriber base with confessions of not having watched Friends, Seinfeld and none of the Star Wars or MCU movies – ever; and then dissing Mr. Tendulkar, Mr. Bachchan and Ms. Mangeshkar all in a single post! Sorry, but not sorry is all I will say), but something tells me that the entire Star Wars filmography and the offtakes from that universe are also suffering from the same bane of contractual obligations. Is it the same case with the Marvel Cinematic Universe as well? The box office numbers seem to be going through the roof, but from a creative or storytelling originality standpoint are they too suffering from the contractual obligation affliction? I wouldn’t know as I have never ventured into that territory, but am I completely off the mark here? (Would love to get enlightened by some of you reading this who happen to be knowledgeable enough to either agree with me or contradict me.)
Work dished out for contractual obligation reasons often sounds and looks jaded. (Remember Mr. Bachchan right from the late 80s through the early and mid-90s? Replete with dyed hair on a thinning hairline that threatened the famed centre-parting hairstyle that launched a million wannabes, a paunch that had started showing, trying to bring back the anger of the angry young man in a middle-aged ageing body?)
It is when work that had given someone unforeseen levels of fame, celebrity, adulation and monies stops speaking for itself that one sees a massive PR push.
It is true of every profession and every super achiever. That is the time when yarns are spun on the legacy being carried forward, of history being made, of how the performances are now maturing, etc etc … I’ve come to realise that every time the band members in the case of music, and actors or directors in the case of movies gush too much on how this is possibly their best work ever, it is invariably nowhere close to their peak performances. Guess deep down they too know they’re going through the motions and merely being talking heads. In fact, give me any new piece of work that is ‘dropped’ as against heavily promoted and I will go for the ‘dropped’ work. It is invariably of a far superior quality than the one which is heavily promoted. I’ve been in the business of promotion and make believe, so I guess I know a thing or two about this. I also understand that contractual obligations are difficult to extrude oneself out of considering the gargantuan amounts of monies involved. But isn’t there some level of introspection that super-achievers are expected to go through before committing to stuff that they know in their heart of hearts they will not be able to do justice to?
Which brings me to the second kind of obligation – the moral contractual obligation.
More than the legally determined contractual obligations, I feel all artistes – especially the super-achieving ones – need to have a moral contractual obligation.
What is a moral contractual obligation?
It is that unwritten contract super-achievers have with their fans and followers, and even more importantly it’s a contract that they need to sign for themselves to abide by.
It is a pact that artistes make with their fans, their devotees.
It is the bond that a super-achiever forms with their audiences that see them in a particular way in their mind’s eye, and they don’t want that image to be disturbed, let alone be destroyed.
A moral contractual obligation is the one that should make super-achievers realise that there is a higher relationship they have that goes beyond the adulation, the spotlight, the fawning, the privileges, the club class travel, etc etc.
It is the realisation that it is their moral contractual obligation towards their followers that determines the respectability they will get and gain when they last long enough.
It is the moral contractual obligation that can act as a compass that supersedes all the directions that the trappings of stratospheric success might throw at the super-achiever to veer them off their course.
I would go to the extent of saying that as mature, worldly-wise individuals who made a living through having their finger on the pulse of not just popular opinion, but their own high standards, having a moral contractual obligation is a duty for them.
A duty that prevents them from becoming caricatures of their former selves.
A duty that helps them avoid embarrassments.
A duty that will ensure that the trappings of success which are all too enticing and blinding don’t prevent them from noticing a step-by-step descent from grace till one fine day they cease to matter. Because while the descent from grace could happen step-by-step, the fall could turn out to be a harsh one that hits them abruptly.
The title of a Gabriel Garcia Marquez classic - ‘Chronicle of a Death Foretold’ – although written in a completely different context, can be contextualised for the effects of the absence of a moral contractual obligation where everyone but the protagonist sees their imminent fall or witnesses their performative bankruptcy. Or to quote the short, but hard hitting, exchange from Ernest Hemingway’s novel ‘The Sun Also Rises’:
Bill: How did you go bankrupt?
Mike: Two ways. Gradually, and then suddenly.
Be braver. Be kinder.
Watched two documentaries of two global superstars from two neighbouring countries. Both started really early in the profession they chose, experienced unheard of success immediately, sustained it for a fair amount of time, and left their careers while more or less on top. But the similarities end there in the afterlife of their professions. Becker remained the kid who never grew up and went from one bad judgment to another, one bad business deal to another, one bad relationship to another and finally ended up in jail. Arnold, on the other hand, went from strength to strength with absolute focus on what he wanted to do and then systematically went about achieving it. The difference between the two is that Becker seems to be still in denial about how life could serve such a bad hand to him, while Arnold owns up to all his decisions, including an affair, with pragmatism bordering on being cyborgish. Fascinating to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth in both cases.
Boom! Boom! The World vs Boris Becker | Documentary | Apple TV+
&
Arnold | Documentary | Netflix
Some are able to live with themselves below their peak while others don’t want to. I think we are projecting our disappointment of our erstwhile heroes onto them.
SRT, Lata and Amitabh have sizeable numbers of diehards who didn’t care that they were dishing out mediocrity after their peak. Others like you probably didn’t want to see anything less than their best.
That was a long and interesting read. The topic was pretty different and looks like you must have done quite a good research to put all this together. Sometimes as humans we are not able to gauge how much is enough. Greed takes over!