ALSO: LUCY LIU RECEIVES FESTIVAL’S HIGHEST HONOR

DISPATCH FROM THE DENVER FILM FESTIVAL • DAY 11

Well, hello, John Elway. It’s nice to meet you.

It’s been 42 years since Elway first arrived in Denver as the most celebrated and most controversial rookie quarterback in NFL history. Every aspect of his life since 1983, both on the field and off, has played out in front of microphones and cameras.

Or has it?

The Elway we met at the Ellie Caulkins Opera House on Saturday, both on the screen and in the flesh, was a welcome stranger. Vulnerable. Reflective. Thoughtful. Authentic. At peace.

No longer the necessarily arrogant, competitively driven Duke of Denver, this Elway is simply “Poppi,” 65-year-old retired father of four and grandfather of 10, with an 11th on the way.

By the end of the intensely personal, revelatory world-premiere screening of the new high-profile Netflix documentary “Elway,” selected to close out the 48th Denver Film Festival, an orange-clad crowd of about 1,500 stood and cheered, many wiping away genuine tears.    

“When you watch this film, you are going to learn just how pressure-filled John’s life was — not just as a quarterback and as a player, but as a man,” documentary co-director Ken Rodgers told me amid the hoopla of red carpets, flashing lights, Broncos cheerleaders, retired players and three Super Bowl trophies.

“John has had an enormous presence on the national stage ever since high school. He went through college and the pros as a quarterback with a target on his back — and it took a toll. But when you see him now in the scenes that bookend the film, relaxing with his family (at their vacation home in Idaho), you see a John Elway you never, ever saw here in Denver — and that is the man outside of the quarterback. The man without the responsibilities.

“And I think it’s a good lesson for us all that there comes a time to reflect and not necessarily compete all the time.”

This is a movie where everyone knows the impossibly Hollywood plot going in — the three devastating Super Bowl shellackings, the public feud that got the feared and revered coach fired, and the two trophies that erased 14 years of futility and spurred Elway’s glorious ride into the Hall of Fame. The film is a love letter that’s going to be fun for any football fan not residing in Cleveland, Baltimore, Green Bay or Atlanta to watch. 

But “Elway” becomes much more than a mere career retrospective after his retirement. If you were around at the time, you may have read about the devastating succession of personal losses, including the deaths of his twin sister and father within 18 months, and the crumbling of his fairy-tale marriage. I guarantee you have never before seen a tearful Elway talking about those losses with a completely unguarded heart. The only thing familiar about these remarkable scenes is the still ever-present camera in Elway’s face.

It’s almost like John Wayne — Elway’s knock-kneed, pigeon-toed hero, and a recurring metaphor in the film — has come along and shot that long calcified chip off his protege’s shoulder with a single bullet. It’s gone.   

“People knew me when I was a player, but they didn’t really know me,” Elway said in a post-screening Q&A moderated by CBS4’s news anchor Michael Spencer. “Because of the media, I had to say certain things. I had to be tough.”

But when Rodgers first brought the idea of a documentary to Elway, he laid down a challenge unlike anything Elway had ever faced on a football field. “He told me I would have to be vulnerable,” Elway said. That’s something that does not compute with championship-caliber football players. In the NFL, vulnerability is weakness.

“I remember when Kenny told me, ‘Tighten up the laces tomorrow, because I’m going to ask you some tough questions,’” Elway said. “And he did. And it hit to the heart. And it’s the best thing that he could have done. And I’m so glad he did. At least everyone finally got to know the real me.”

“Elway,” in the end, turns out to be a family film. Football, it turns out, is just a highly effective plot device. Part of what makes the film so effective is the full and heartfelt participation of Janet Elway, his wife of 18 years, and most of their now adult children. (Elway’s second marriage in 2009 is never acknowledged.)    

“I am proud of my football career, but the thing that I’m most proud of is my kids,” Elway said. “I did not talk to them a lot about what was going on the football field at the time because they were so young. And so that’s part of the reason why I did the documentary. Now that they’re older, I wanted them to see what I was going through at that point in time. But they are the pride of my existence.”

And when he said that, a call came out from the audience: “We love you, Dad!”

Cue the tears. But make no mistake, there were football tears, too. One of the true joys of the film is watching an emotional Elway watching his own highlights, including perhaps the single signature play of his career. The one when the Broncos faced a third-and-6 on the Packers’ 12-yard line in Super Bowl XXXII. If you know, you know the play is forever remembered by one word.

“I cry every time I see the film,” Elway said — “but especially when I did ‘The Helicopter.’”

How different is this now more reflective Elway? The guy I sat next to at the screening happened to be Ron Katz, who was named the Broncos Fan of the Year in 2021. He even got to sit in Commissioner Roger Goodell’s box for that year’s NFL draft. He whipped out his phone to show me that, outside of the opera house, he ran into Elway on the sidewalk. Elway stopped, talked and kindly snapped a selfie with Katz.

Wait. Has there been an alien abduction?

“He’s just a nice guy,” said Katz, who just had to attend Saturday’s premiere screening. “It’s very meaningful to see his history documented because he is the Broncos’ history,” he said.

Because of what Katz calls the Elway aura, “you just knew something amazing was going to happen,” he said. “You knew stadiums would be shaking. You knew the Broncos were always in it until the very end. He never gave up.”

Saturday drew a crowd unlike anything the well-heeled opera house has ever seen before. They were chanting, ”Let’s Go, Broncos!” on the way in. There were hundreds of Broncos jerseys, and even one glittery logo jacket that seemed fit for the opera.

As the Denver Post deputy sports editor for most of Elway’s playing years, it was both joyful and strange to consider the man Elway has become. I still remember a random night at the Greenwood Village Broker circa 2002 playing trivia with my friends when an Elway entourage the size of an army entered. Suddenly, it was the biggest trivia night in the restaurant’s history. Elway had opened his auto dealership by then, and these were all showroom employees, many looking like they were there by necessity.

I distinctly remember two things: Janet Elway destroyed all of us with her intimidating trivia knowledge. While a bored and completely uninterested Elway roamed the room, tossing single kernels of popcorn at his staff’s heads. And of course, they just had to just sit there and take it. I was reminded of the axiom, “Never meet your heroes.”

Cut to Saturday’s red-carpet walk. Elway didn’t say much to us, but the once unshakeable gunslinger did share that he was genuinely nervous for the screening, which was inordinately endearing. “This is the first time I’ve gone to the movie theater — and the movie is about me,” he said. He was worried, he continued, about how people were going to respond to seeing this “honest” version of Elway.

I don’t know. Seems like a hell of a nice guy to me.

Oh, and in case you are wondering: Yes: Elway was asked his opinion on Bo Nix, who is catching Elway-like heat while “sputtering” to an Elway-like record of 7-2.

“I watch all the media, and I’m going, ‘Bo, I’ve been there. All you gotta do is keep winning,’” Elway said to cheers and laughs. “‘All that other stuff will go away.’”

(Note: Netflix still has not yet announced a launch date for “Elway.” Also: The documentary has been dedicated to Jeff Sperbeck, Elway’s longtime friend, agent and business partner who died in April from injuries sustained in a golf-cart accident while Elway was driving.) 

LUCY LIU WINS CASSAVETES AWARD

A strong week of in-person celebrity appearances culminated Saturday with Lucy Liu receiving the festival’s highest honor, the John Cassavetes Award, at a sold-out screening of her new indie film “Rosemead” at the MCA Denver’s Holiday Theater. Sarah Moore, head of Denver’s Asian American Dragon Boat Film Festival, made the emotional presentation.

The Cassavetes Award, established the year he died (1989) in collaboration with the director’s widow, Gena Rowlands, honors an American director or actor for their contributions to independent filmmaking.

“Cassavetes was a true pioneer,” Liu told me moments before receiving her award. “He talked about the poetry of humanity through honesty — unfiltered, raw, and without polish or perfection. And I feel like this is such a great way to bring ‘Rosemead’ to audiences because this movie was made with such passion and honesty as well.

“It’s truly thrilling to know that I can be part of that history and part of that legacy that John Cassavetes built.” And knowing the award was started by Rowlands, who died last year, makes it all the more special to Liu.

“I mean, she led the way,” Liu said. “She was never afraid to talk about how she felt about things, or the inequity of things. She was a powerful force.”

“Rosemead,” produced by and starring Liu, is the true story of a Chinese American mother who discovers her teenage son’s violent obsessions. We talked about how the best films that really dial into the specifics of a single family often wind up telling a more universal story about the struggles all families face.

“It’s also about love,” Liu said, “but I think any love is a struggle. I think there’s a universality about that because love changes. It ebbs and flows, and so, how do you keep up with it?”

Denver Film Artistic Director Matthew Campbell called Liu’s performance remarkable. “Quiet, emotional, and profoundly compassionate,” he said. 

“This is a mother who is trying to keep up with what’s happening,” Liu added, “not just with her son, but with the language, with Western medicine, also with cultural shame and the facade that I think a lot of people in different cultures come from, even if you’re born and raised in America. I think it’s the idea that we are trying to balance — and I think she loses the balance ultimately.”

“Rosemead” opens widely on Dec. 5.

RECORDS WILL BE BROKEN

This is astonishing: When it was announced that the festival had lost the AMC 9+10 as a venue for 2025, the total number of films available to screen dipped to 136, down from 185 in 2024. So it was just assumed that overall attendance would decline proportionally. But what do you know? While the final numbers aren’t in yet, the 2025 festival’s attendance will surpass 25,000, Denver Film CEO Kevin Smith said. That’s more than 2024. How is that even possible? More screenings in larger venues, and a much higher capacity of filled seats in those screenings.

MORE OF OUR DENVER FILM FESTIVAL COVERAGE:

• Our interview with Delroy Lindo

• Here are five films you don’t want to miss

• Look who’s coming to Denver 

• Spotlight on Colorado films like ‘Creede U.S.A.’

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Oct. 31

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 1

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 2

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 3

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 4

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 5

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 6

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 7

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 8

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 9

• Daily Dispatch from the Denver Film Festival: Nov. 10

MORE ELWAY PHOTOS!