The Row’s Reluctance to Confront

Bryan Fogel’s latest documentary, The Row, is a visually stunning and often thrilling ride that captures the extremes of human endurance. At its core, it tells the story of Tez Steinberg’s solo rowing journey across the Pacific Ocean, a feat that’s as awe-inspiring as it is baffling.

Steinberg, a veteran athlete, has tackled some of the world’s most grueling challenges. His decision to row solo from California to Hawaii – a distance of over 2,500 miles – was motivated by his desire to cope with the loss of his father and find meaning in his own life. The film shows us the sheer magnitude of this undertaking: Steinberg is battered by waves, tossed about in rainstorms, and discomfited by the eerie tranquility of a glassy Pacific.

However, beneath its gripping surface, The Row struggles to confront the underlying issues that drive Steinberg’s actions. Fogel’s documentary often seems content to simply showcase the thrill and spectacle of this incredible feat, rather than really probing the motivations behind it. Interviews with Steinberg’s family members are matter-of-fact, suggesting a cultural norm or family tradition rather than questioning its sense.

This reluctance to confront is striking, especially given Fogel’s previous documentary, Icarus, which won the Oscar for Best Documentary Feature. In that film, Fogel exposed doping scandals and corruption within elite athletic circles. By contrast, The Row lets Steinberg’s narrative unfold without challenging his vulnerabilities or pushing him to confront his own issues.

This approach raises questions about the role of documentary filmmaking. Shouldn’t documentaries challenge our assumptions and push us out of our comfort zones? Or should they simply provide a platform for individuals to tell their stories, no matter how extreme or incomprehensible those stories may be?

The Row’s failure to confront these issues is particularly striking given its subject matter. Steinberg’s journey is presented as an epic struggle with his own demons – but what we don’t see is any real effort to examine the societal and cultural pressures that might have driven him to this point. We’re left wondering whether Steinberg’s actions are truly a testament to human resilience or simply a manifestation of our culture’s willingness to accept extremes as normal.

In the end, The Row is a documentary that asks us to get caught up in an incomprehensible thing – but it doesn’t give us much reason to really think critically about what we’re seeing. It’s a film that will leave you breathless and exhilarated, but also perhaps a little uneasy: because beneath its stunning visuals and thrilling narrative, The Row is hiding some uncomfortable truths about ourselves and our culture.