xXx: Return of Xander Cage
The last forty minutes of the movie do come together in a pretty diverting way.
We might as well get used to the idea that there will never be a real documentary about Michael Jordan--one made with the full tools of the filmmaker's art, with its own point of view and insight beneath the surface. "Michael Jordan to the Max," like almost everything that has been filmed or written about Jordan, is essentially just a promotional film for Jordan as a product. It plays like a commercial for itself.
Jordan is a private man--so private that although he talks about his dead father in this film, there is no mention of his wife or his children. His mother is seen and heard, once; his wife is (I think) glimpsed briefly. I didn't expect an intimate display of private matters, but in this film Jordan is a man who lives on the basketball court and evaporates otherwise, except when starring in commercials. The only time we see him not wearing a basketball uniform is when he's wearing a suit while walking into the dressing room.
"Michael Jordan to the Max" takes as its framework that remarkable final championship season, and there are moments from games we remember so well, against Indiana, Cleveland and Utah. But they aren't analytical or even very informative--just colorful shots of Michael scoring again and again (he misses two shots in the entire film).
Sometimes you have to know the story to realize what you're seeing, as when we overhear Steve Kerr, during a timeout, tell Michael that if he gets the ball he will not miss the shot--and then sinking his famous championship-winning basket. The movie shows this, but doesn't underline it or explain it.