Yahoo News Six Nations Netflix documentary shows rugby still grappling with selling its stars
European rugby’s second attempt this season at launching a documentary worth chatting about on a big-hitting streaming service comes courtesy of the Six Nations and Netflix. ‘Six Nations: Full Contact’ – out on Wednesday – will follow the path carved by Prime’s ‘Mud, Sweat and Tears: Premiership Rugby’ in an attempt to piggyback onto the success of the likes of ‘Drive to Survive’ and attract crucial new fans to the game.
The Premiership’s edition was a respectable first stab but the viewing figures were underwhelming and it will not earn a second cap. Will Netflix’s response to Prime’s domestic dalliance yield greater success? The public will vote with their feet to decide, but there is hope. This, like the Premiership’s version, is engaging and, at times, amusing but, most frustratingly, Netflix have not learnt from Amazon’s errors.
As I wrote while reviewing the Premiership documentary, commentary, featuring the voice of the mellifluous Mark Robson, has been rerecorded for the big moments and, just as with Amazon’s attempt, it is jarring and unnecessary. It is quite a skill to give the authenticity of live sport an artificial edge, but the canned commentary gives the documentary more of a Ted Lasso or Fifa feel, rather than the desired ‘Drive to Survive’ ambience.
The series is also too long. Eight episodes is not tight enough for a championship of just five rounds and six teams. Had it been condensed by two or three episodes, the end product would have been far more arresting; so, too, had some teams opened their doors as generously as Scotland.
The insight is, at times, eye-opening – Kieran Crowley’s passion, Andrew Porter’s mental-health battle, the fears of Sebastian Negri’s girlfriend, the impact of Shaun Edwards on France, and the unconventional upbringings of Ellis Genge and Gaël Fickou – but the series meanders too often.
The fact that Italy scrum-half Stephen Varney and Wales wing Louis Rees-Zammit were childhood friends is a tidbit worth mentioning, but filming a reunion of the duo playing pool is excessive. There is also the awkwardness of Rees-Zammit featuring as a central figure, but Netflix cannot be blamed for not knowing that the Wales wing would jump ship to the NFL.
What Netflix can be blamed for, however, is delaying the introduction of France and Ireland – the world’s two best sides at the time, who were about to play in one of the championship’s greatest matches, featuring the world’s best player – until the third episode. Antoine Dupont is a superstar, rightly heralded as the greatest in the world – and, perhaps, the greatest ever – and he should have played a central role. Instead, the French captain, missing the 2024 Six Nations to concentrate on representing France in the sevens at a home Olympics this summer, is somewhat of a peripheral figure. Not speaking fluent English makes him less commercially attractive, of course, but Dupont could be rugby’s saviour, the player that the sport has been crying out for to transcend the Six Nations and attract global fame.
Rugby continues to grapple with the most effective way to sell its stars and remains envious of the effect that ‘Drive to Survive’ has had on Formula One; invigorating regular fans and attracting new ones. Whereas Formula One is an individual sport, however, rugby is not. It does not lend itself as well to the kind of individual superstardom that develops far more seamlessly in sports such as Formula One, golf and tennis. Rugby players are members of teams; a collective, first and foremost. Football, on a much larger scale, is similar. It is no coincidence that the viral star of Arsenal’s ‘All or Nothing’ feature on Prime was manager Mikel Arteta; the man closest to the team but who tellingly was not a part of it.
Edwards sternly laying down the law to his French troops in a post-match review – “kick the f---ing ball and stop f---ing around in our own half” – along with Crowley’s outburst that he is “getting too old for this s---” are two of the most compelling moments of the series. The rest of the coaches – Andy Farrell, Warren Gatland, Fabien Galthié and Steve Borthwick – are fascinating in their own way, too. Why? Because there is an authenticity to what they are saying and doing.
The players, artificially thrust into the limelight by Netflix, do not come close to capturing that behind-the-scenes reality. It poses the more philosophical question of whether rugby needs to market its stars as individuals. It does, but the method is leaving much to be desired. If there is to be a next instalment of this series, the producers must start to embrace the (albeit intangible) qualities of rugby – the camaraderie and the kinship – rather than focusing on the individual. That way, the personalities that the streaming giants crave can flourish organically. ‘Living With Lions’ in 1997 is the standard bearer for these projects; there were punchy personalities on that trip, but allowing them to emerge of their own accord was what made that feature fly.
Until rugby and whichever of its streaming partners crack that code, the same issues will remain.
