The 1973 tennis match between Billie Jean King and Bobby Riggs is one of the most fascinating social occurrences in American history. A middle-aged retired tennis pro (Riggs) claims in strategically arrogant fashion that he could beat any woman in a tennis match, and then challenges the highest-ranked female tennis player in the world (King). It was both a farce and a testament. The audience watching treated it as an obvious joke between a showboating misogynist and the sport’s ultimate talent, while also putting actual stock in the result. The truth is that the match became an actual referendum on the sexes, as any highly publicized competition between a man and a woman eventually becomes. When a man defeats a woman in anything from a game of poker to a presidential election, it’s treated as a confirmation of male superiority, further proof and vindication for men’s domination over most aspects of life. These are the stakes that King faced, even in what was supposed to be a silly exhibition against the sport’s ultimate exhibitionist, and her knowledge of that is what made that match the most important in tennis history.
The film Battle of the Sexes is directed by the Little Miss Sunshine duo Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, a married couple who know a thing or two about professional equality between the sexes. This is their third feature after the wonderful Sunshine and the criminally underrated Ruby Sparks. They are modest filmmakers, who think first and foremost about performance. Battle of the Sexes is probably their least interesting film and their least impressive formalistically. The film sort of happens upon a handheld aesthetic that doesn’t add much because it’s incredibly obvious that Dayton and Faris care most about their cast. Recent Oscar-winner Emma Stone plays King, all jump suits and toothy smile. Stone’s charm is her calling card but it can sometimes feel like a trap, and playing King, a violently-obsessive athlete, is the first time in a while I see her playing a part outside of her comfort zone, and it may be the best thing she’s ever done.
The film’s script is written by Simon Beaufoy (Oscar-winner for Slumdog Millionaire), who structures it in two halves: the first half is an almost strict biopic of King, with the second half focusing on the titular match with Riggs. The first hour details King’s pivotal role in the creation of the Virginia Slims Circuit, an alternate women’s tennis tour started by King and eight other female tennis pros, largely as a result of the USLTA’s embarrassing wage gap between its male and female athletes. Before the VSC even got started, the USLTA head Jack Kramer (Bill Pullman) informs King that they have all been removed from the professional tour and would be ineligible for Grand Slam titles as long as the VSC exists; the women continued. On tour, the VSC gets plenty of press, and King meets a hairdresser named Marilyn (Andrea Riseborough) who she falls for, despite being married to Larry (Austin Stowell), a supportive husband with Ken Doll looks.
Meanwhile, retired tennis pro Bobby Riggs (Steve Carell) lives in a mansion with his rich wife Priscilla (Elisabeth Shue). He is restless in retirement and struggling with a gambling habit that frays his marriage beyond repair. Goaded by his group of like-minded fifty-something friends – and no doubt influenced by his own sexist views – Riggs sees his chance to make some big money: play against these same women who are so eagerly seeking equality. Riggs is readily willing to play the villain, posing as the most disgusting of stereotypes in a flagrant attempt to sell a match. King at first refuses to participate in Riggs’ spectacle, but when Riggs wins a match against women’s pro Margaret Court (Jessica McNamee), thus giving his bigoted claims unwarranted merit, King feels she has no choice. Leading up to the match, Riggs ratchets up his routine, making a brand out of his “male chauvinist pig” creation, only further gaining popularity with those wishing King and her persistent request for equal pay would finally be banished, along with the entirety of Women’s Lib.
Maybe this is a *spoiler*, but the actual match between Riggs and King was not anything special. It was a bloodbath between an elite athlete at the peak of her strength and a has-been talent who’d let his personality get the best of him. It’s Dayton and Faris who do the work toward creating the tension leading up to the match, giving the film a much-needed crescendo. It’s hard not to savor King’s precise, meticulous dissection of Riggs’ middle-aged game. The match is filmed perfectly, letting the tennis speak for itself (most of the film’s tennis scenes are shot in odd close-ups and quick cuts, missing the action), and letting you become a fan as you watch. It captures the drama of watching professional sports in a way that I haven’t seen in some time. As Riggs, Carell is equal parts funny and sweet, oddly aware of his pomposity and completely oblivious to the consequences of it. That Beaufoy’s script tries to give even a little bit of credence to Riggs’ crusade is regrettable, but Carell’s portrayal of the man is spot on.
In a career that included 12 Singles Grand Slam championships (and 39 Grand Slams overall), this match is the one that defined King’s career. It’s probably the least impressive accomplishment in her pro days, and yet it is the one that has the loudest volume. With King’s victory, there was a feeling of shifting tides. It’s hard to feel like much has changed at all in 2017, even though so much has. King continued with her efforts for women’s equality, eventually doing so as an out lesbian to boot. Riggs faded into obscurity, a footnote in history. Battle of the Sexes doesn’t get everything right – its portrayal of King’s discovery of her own homosexuality feels clumsy, and its humanization of Riggs seems unnecessary – but it does go a way toward showing just how much an exhibition match can mean. With a brilliant performance coming from the highest-paid actress in the world, Battle of the Sexes at least makes you feel like some change can be possible.
Directed by Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris