‘Breaking Olympia’ flexes the courageous and unstoppable life of Phil Heath
A powerful documentary about the resiliency of the human spirit colliding with the complexity of a bodybuilding career.
Few people like going to the gym. It’s hot, crowded, and exhausting. The lights burn bright, showcasing your imperfections and letting you know how much work is to be done. The person next to you looks about as miserable as you are, and the countdown to the end of the workout begins too slowly. Now imagine doing that for a living, spending long hours in that musky, unforgiving place. Instead of being a one hour exercise hotel, it’s your office. As Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson (a producer on the film) proclaims, it’s the toughest job on the planet.
The gym has been Phil Heath’s office for decades, ever since an NBA dream career was washed when he didn’t make the college cut, and a new career in the gym as a bodybuilder began. “Getting it in” becomes a daily chore and energy request, and the dedication required is immense.
Heath didn’t just do it; he became a legend in the sport, going out on his shield. You don’t win seven Mr. Olympia (it’s the Oscars and Super Bowl rolled into one in bodybuilding competitions) awards without carrying brass balls, three of them. He was someone another guy in tiny speedo shorts would fear seeing next to him on the stage. Big, shredded muscles only get you so far. Heath had “it.”
Sporting a bald head and beady green eyes that remind me of the late Tiny Lister, he was the mountain tip that every bodybuilder aspired to reach when they shred and cut relentlessly in the gym. It wasn’t just his muscles and the size of them; Heath could sell a crowd. He performed for them when he stood, posed, and flexed during pre-judging and the finals competition. Brett Harvey’s latest sports documentary gem, Breaking Olympia: The Phil Heath Story, dives into his late career attempt at a world record eighth Mr. Olympia crown in 2020.
After winning his seventh title in 2015, he lost in 2017 and compounded that loss with a major hernia, an injury that has affected him since birth. Setbacks for a professional athlete hit differently than a bad day at the office for us. To be unable to do what you’ve done at the top level, and experience the high that comes with ability, is an earth shattering event for the human brain--even a guy whose back looks like a muscle planet. Plop that dilemma on a large scale that bares just about all of you to the public that loves to judge, and the stakes get even higher. Heath went into a fierce depression and isolation after his injury, something that zapped the bodybuilding world, like a town suddenly without its king.
A comeback would be mounted, but the task was taller than ever. Heath’s ultimate goal was to climb over the great Arnold Schwarzenegger for an eighth Mr. Olympia title. Having watched Pumping Iron many times and idolizing the Austrian for decades, it was worth the risk of further injury and worse, a deep disappointment. Older and wiser yet possibly carrying a tiny piece of doubt in his mind, the final third of Harvey’s film takes you through the trials and tribulations of training to make that last stand, performing, and living with the results.
For the first time since that early Arnold gem, viewers are brought into the unglamourous parts of bodybuilding. The devotion to an art form is about as naked as Heath is on stage. As Ronnie Coleman remarks, you have to become a robot of sorts; work out, eat, work out, eat, pass out, manipulate your water intake, etc. Harvey also puts a loving spotlight on Phil’s relationship, both romantic and business, with his life, Shurie Cremona. They are a unit in this last stand at Olympia adventure, weighing protein powder and working out in a gym into the wee hours of the morning.
Heath is an easy guy to root for, someone who came along in the shadows of greats like Coleman and Jay Cutler, earning his spot in the sun. He smiles and chuckles often, but isn’t afraid to get real on camera and let his guard down. What you see is a career forged on relationships and loyalty, like the bond he has with his longtime trainer, Hany Rambod, who gets visibly emotional when talking about the close friendship that was forged during their blood, sweat, and tears together. Seeing how hard he’s willing to fight, in a singular occupation that gathers more inner voices by the year, is a joy to watch. It’ll fire you up, and probably make you do a push up.
The producing team, Scor G Productions, led by the great Adam Scorgie and Shane Fennessy, are becoming titans in their own sport of documentary filmmaking for getting their subjects to open up like never before. I’m talking about the toughest hockey enforcers (Ice Guardians), Danny Trejo, Grant Fuhr, and coming up next, Dolph Lundgren. Every time I watch one of their movies, I understand the need and desire for these “30 for 30 extended” stories about names we may know and people we don’t know enough about.
Phil Heath could have listened to those internal voices after the road to a basketball career vanished, but he found another calling and became a legend that doesn’t just win the biggest awards but lights a fire under hundreds of fellow bodybuilders to do and be better. Someone who treats a gym like their temple, carving up their made to break bodies in a fashion that regular people don’t have half the discipline to complete. They’re giants among normals. Heath was a giant among men.
Fork over $5.99 and watch it on Amazon Prime. And then go to the gym.