Wilt Chamberlain passed away in 1999, and yet he’s the narrator of the three-part Showtime series “Goliath,” which does a comprehensive job of chronicling Chamberlain’s near-mythic status on and off the court.
Actually, that’s only partially accurate. Chamberlain’s own words, from recorded interviews to writings, are used in the narration — but it’s an artificial intelligence “voice” we’re hearing.
An opening graphic tells us:
“Wilt Chamberlain’s voice in this series is created using an AI program with the permission of the Wilt Chamberlain estate. Wilt’s words have been composed from quotations of his written work and public statements.”
The next thing we see are some simple but cool animated graphics, and the next thing we hear is AI Wilt, telling us: “There’s just no way the average guy can envision what it’s like being a seven-footer. When that seven-footer’s also Black, rich, famous and dominates his sport as no other man in history has dominated ANY sport — well, you can see how difficult it is for people to relate to me …”
It sounds like the real Wilt Chamberlain — but not quite. There’s something a little bit choppy and vaguely hinting at reverb in the presentation. It’s more of a distraction than a valuable narrative tool. One is left with the feeling “Goliath” would have been even more effective without the AI gimmick — but the good news is, directors Rob Ford and Christopher Dillon make relatively spare use of the narration and deliver a visual biography of Chamberlain that is worthy of the enormous footprint he left.
Before there was Kareem, before there was Moses and Hakeem and Shaq, there was Wilt. (And a certain Boston Celtic who became his frenemy for life. More on that in a bit.)
“Goliath” follows a mostly chronological path, with Episode 1 taking us back to Chamberlain’s early days in West Philadelphia, with his sisters Selina C. Gross and Barbara O. Lewis providing warm and touching anecdotes. As Chamberlain put up huge numbers at Overbrook High School and then at the University of Kansas, reporters dubbed him “Wilt the Stilt,” but Chamberlain preferred “The Dipper,” as he was always having to dip and duck under doorways. (He also was fascinated by the stars.)
Former teammates and opponents such as Rick Barry, Jerry West and Billy Cunningham speak with great admiration of Chamberlain the man and the player, as does Kevin Garnett, who says of Wilt’s on-court performances, “That’s video game s---, man.” As the series points out, it’s nearly impossible to overstate Chamberlain’s impact on the game, to the point where rules were changed to lessen his impact.
Not that “Goliath” is all hagiography. The series spends a considerable amount of time examining Chamberlain’s frustration at his teams continually being bested by Bill Russell’s Boston Celtics, which resulted in Wilt being labeled a perpetual “loser.” (A graphic points out that in four Game 7 losses to Russell’s Celtics, Chamberlain’s teams fell short by a total of 9 points.)
The filmmakers also address the dichotomy of Chamberlain having a famously lavish and hedonistic lifestyle, and supporting female athletes, from backing volleyball teams to sponsoring track-and-field legends such as Jackie Joyner-Kersee and Florence Griffith Joyner. Says broadcast journalist Cari Champion: “Wilt supporting women’s sports doesn’t mean that he still wasn’t a womanizer. Two things can be true. That does not mean he was not a nice guy. That does not mean he did not love his family … [but] that’s where it’s hard to reconcile who Wilt Chamberlain is for women.”
Chamberlain’s infamous claim that he slept with 20,000 women is also addressed, with friends and family saying it was obvious braggadocio — but also a stupid thing to put in a book. Hyperbole aside, there’s no disputing Chamberlain enjoyed the good life and a high profile, especially after he joined the Lakers as part of the first super-team, alongside Jerry West and Elgin Baylor. (Says former teammate Pat Riley, with great affection: “Wilt knew everything and all things about anything. And whether he was accurate or not didn’t make any difference to him.”) He even constructed a custom-built, triangular home with 9-foot doorways and wolf fur everywhere and an insanely huge waterbed in the master bedroom, with a roof that opened at night so Wilt could see the stars. The house was dubbed “Ursa Major,” for the constellation that includes the Big Dipper.
Wilt Chamberlain died at 63 of cardiac arrest in that Bel-Air home. He was in bed, with the roof open. It seems his last moments on Earth were looking up at those same stars he loved as a kid in West Philly.
