This past weekend I willed myself to watch , the new Netflix film about marathon swimmer Diana Nyad and her record-breaking 2013 swim from Cuba to Florida. Now, several days after that viewing, two scenes from the movie still flicker in my head when I shut my eyes.
In one, Diana Nyad (played by Anette Bening) lies in a hospital bed, her lips swollen from the seawater and her flesh burned by jellyfish tentacles, days after her third unsuccessful attempt at the crossing. Her coach and friend Bonnie Stoll (Jodie Foster) recounts the emotional horror of having watched Diana nearly die in the water, and Diana responds with a massive eye roll and a wave of her hand. In another scene, Diana, her eyes narrowed, berates her navigator John Bartlett (Rhys Ifans) after he warns that an approaching gale could make her fourth attempt at the Cuba to Florida swim a death trap. A jump cut then shows the crew clinging helplessly to their chase boat amid heaving seas as Diana fights through the whitecaps one stroke at a time. Eventually Bonnie must blow the rescue whistle to signal defeat in an effort to save everyone from a watery grave.
The fact that my brain continues to replay these scenes is a testament to the film’s quality—yes, Nyad is worth watching—and it’s also a rebuke to the baggage that I, admittedly, carried into my viewing. You see, I did not want to watch Nyad, and I especially did not want to like it.
I trace my preconceived distaste to three things, the first of which is this filled with exposition that for some reason Netflix circulated on X to promote Nyad (I suggest watching the ). The second is this , who examines the many tall tales that the real Diana Nyad has told over the years, and the strange community of swimming truthers who believe that some of her records are potentially fraudulent. And the third is, well, who Diana Nyad has become after her historic swim: she of and fame, queen of the oft-repeated mantra that you can accomplish any challenge, no matter the difficulty or prevalence of jellyfish, so long as you, ya know, don’t give up. I don’t know about you, but I fatigued on the motivational mumbo jumbo long ago.
I assumed Nyad would be just another shallow Hollywood hagiography—think in a Speedo—only one dressed up for the outdoorish crowd, and chock-full of inspirational cliche. I’m here to admit that my assumption was unfair. I was wrong.
That said, anyone hoping for an interrogation of Diana Nyad’s with the truth will be disappointed by Nyad. Instead, the film investigates the qualities and flaws that drive someone to repeatedly risk their own life and the lives of others in the pursuit of a personal goal. The portrait it paints isn’t always pretty. In ⲹ,Diana Nyad comes off as an egotistical jerk. But ultimately, that’s what makes Nyad shine.
The film is the narrative feature debut for co-directors (and partners) Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi and Jimmy Chin—yes, they of Free Solo ԻMeru fame. They use historic television clips to introduce Diana Nyad as an American swimming hero of seventies-era Wide World of Sports. The film opens in 2010 and Diana, about to turn 60, appears rudderless, grasping onto her past glory and even the mythological root of her Greek surname (“the nymphs that swam in the lakes, rivers, and ocean—this is your destiny.”) The one constant in her life is Bonnie, her best friend and former girlfriend who is an enthusiastic Robin to her Batman. This relationship propels Nyad, and both Bening and Foster melt into their characters within the first few scenes.
Following her birthday, Diana reads a Mary Oliver poem and feels motivated to get back into the swimming pool after a 30-year hiatus. Swimming awakens her internal drive, and she commits herself to the one goal that eluded her during her career. In 1978 she attempted the 103-mile Cuba-to-Key-West swim, but dropped out at mile 70 after losing her course in rough seas. Now, Diana thinks she can do it at age 60 and she wants Bonnie to come along for the adventure. “The mind—this is what I was missing when I was younger,” she says enthusiastically.
And we’re off. The film ping-pongs between Los Angeles and Havana as Diana tries and fails and tries again at her big swim. And this is where Nyad makes its statement. You see, Diana’s undying motivation lays bare her many flaws. She is competitive and petty, self-righteous and vain. And as the DNFs pile up, Diana becomes a tyrant, bullying Bonnie and others to continue helping her chase the One Big Goal, no matter the risks. The film traces the roots of Diana’s maniacal drive back to her own history of abuse—she was sexually assaulted by a swim coach at age 14—and flashbacks capture the emotional horror that present-day Diana struggles to process during her marathon swims. In the water, Diana undergoes therapy to address her trauma. On land, she dishes out pain.
This emotional split provides a pointed critique of the Inspirational Industrial Complex that you and I are oh-so familiar with: those Ted Talks, corporate speeches, too-long Instagram captions telling us that, with the right mindset, we too could climb Everest or swim across the ocean. Outdoor culture overflows with these messages, and only every so often do we catch .Nyad shows the darker side of the succeed-at-all-costs mentality through its portrait of Diana.
The film of course concludes with Diana finally completing the big swim and walking ashore in Key West in front of a massive crowd. As the credits roll, we see clips of the real Diana Nyad during her post-swim media blitz telling her story to throngs of adoring fans. To some, the message of Nyad is that we can accomplish our dreams if we simply adopt Diana’s undying spirit. But that’s not what I took from the film. My read is that it’s probably better for everyone if we leave that mindset to the Diana Nyads of the world.