Steve Prefontaine went 'swoosh,' and so does 'Without Limits' 
by Frank Gabrenya 

I don't run. (For exercise, I drive; I'm up to five miles a day.)

Among those who do run, Steve Prefontaine remains a superstar more than two decades after he died in an auto accident at age 24.

Because the world of long-distance running is alien to me, I never paid much attention to Prefontaine or his career when it was happening.  Those who watched and savored his accomplishments (including holding all seven American records for distances from 2,000 to 10,000 meters) apparently never forgot the excitement and awe Prefontaine instilled in his fans or the sorrow they felt at his death.

So, in the past couple of years, there have been a documentary (Fire on the Track) and two dramatic biographies of Prefontaine, yet the subject still seems to be battling for respect. Last year's biopic, Prefontaine, played few theaters (none here); this year's Without Limits finally arrives in Columbus more than two months after its national release.

I didn't see Prefontaine, but critics who did all agree that Without Limits is a far better movie.

Robert Towne, the screenwriter (Shampoo, Chinatown) and occasional director (Tequila Sunrise, Personal Best) directed the new film and co-wrote the script with Kenny Moore, an Olympic marathoner who knew Prefontaine and has become a highly regarded sports writer.

Billy Crudup (Sleepers) plays Prefontaine as a cocky kid to whom his superior ability is one of life's basic truths, such as gravity and time. He arrives at the University of Oregon oozing charisma and confidence.

The Oregon coach -- and a big reason Prefontaine went there -- is Bill Bowerman (Donald Sutherland), a track guru who is trying to develop the ultimate running shoe in his kitchen by cooking slabs of rubber on a waffle griddle.  (Eventually he added a "swoosh," and the rest is marketing history.)

As an outsider, I wonder: Compared with complex sports such as football and basketball, how hard is it to teach running? ("Keep putting one foot in front of the other very quickly.") The movie has the answers: Runners must learn discipline, strategy, pacing, stamina. Long after Bowerman had refined his program, the arrogant kid showed up and defied the master.

That's the core of Without Limits: the often-strained relationship between two willful men, each convinced he knows better. Bowerman is the mentor astonished by the student's talent; Prefontaine is the pupil who learns from the teacher how to harness his raw ability and will.

The movie sketches Prefontaine's college career, when his dynamic performances inspired crowds to chant "Pre! Pre!" It follows him to the fateful 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, where the re-creation of the 5,000-meter race is the film's dramatic and technical highlight.

The movie struggles with a problem typical of biographies about athletes involved in solo sports: making the nonfan root for a skilled egotist with little more at stake than personal glory.

Maybe that's why the touchy relationship between Prefontaine and Bowerman draws the most attention. It helps that Crudup seems at home in the runner's shoes, and Sutherland gives one of his most deceptively laid-back performances.

For all his writing skill, Towne gives in to some cliches of the movie bio, as when Prefontaine locks eyes with the first pretty coed he sees in Eugene, Ore., and she turns out to be the love of his life. Surely Towne could have concocted something newer than the closing scene in which Prefontaine tells Bowerman he'll see him next week, hops into his car and drives away; you know the drive will end in tragedy.

Still, to someone outside the community of runners, Without Limits is a smooth, upfront tale of a rare talent tried and tested in the world arena, and of the wise man who quietly tried to make him better (while hatching the Nike monster in his spare time).

If you're an avid runner and remember Pre, add a star to my rating.