What can there possibly be left unsaid about Terry Fox? As it turns out, quite a bit, especially when the Canadian icon’s own words are heard in Run Terry Run, the latest documentary from Sean Menard.
Menard gives Fox his chance to speak in this documentary. Drawing on archival footage from personal home videos and news broadcasts, Run Terry Run is a compassionate portrait of the young man whose name has become synonymous with courage, determination, and philanthropy. The documentary looks beyond Terry Fox as a symbol and reminds us that behind the Canadian icon was simply a young man determined to make a difference.
Still a household name in Canada, Fox’s achievements remain remarkable 46 years later. After being diagnosed with osteosarcoma, or bone cancer, as a teenager and having his right leg amputated, the 21-year-old set out from St. John’s, Newfoundland, determined to run across the country to his hometown of Port Coquitlam, British Columbia. Dubbed the Marathon of Hope, his cross-country run was not for personal glory, but to raise awareness and funds for cancer research in Canada. His efforts transformed him into a national and international phenomenon, creating a legacy that has endured for nearly five decades.
In Run Terry Run, Menard expertly taps into a wealth of archival footage, meticulously reconstructing Fox’s journey from a human perspective. Entrusted with his personal journals and home videos by the Fox family, the filmmaker gives new context to the Marathon by putting Fox’s voice and commentary front and centre. Through a chronological construction of the archival footage, combined with recollections from Fox’s brother Darrell, friend Doug Alward, journalist Leslie Scrivener, and others, a robust portrait of resilience and humanity takes shape.
Running close to a full marathon every single day takes effort, even for the healthiest person. Fox did it day after day on a poorly fitted prosthesis, at a time when artificial limbs were not built for high performance. This is perhaps where Menard’s documentary becomes truly eye-opening. Even generations who remember the Marathon of Hope will find new context for Fox’s achievements through the footage Menard has compiled. Fox’s youth is not always top of mind, and Run Terry Run does an excellent job of reminding us that he was barely an adult.
Fox never made it to B.C. His run lasted an astonishing 143 days and 5,000 kilometres, taking him to the outskirts of Thunder Bay, Ontario. The cancer had spread to his lungs, and just 10 months later, he died.
The physical challenge of Fox’s run is evident, but what has often been overlooked in portrayals of his life is the mental and emotional toll the Marathon took on him. On top of the day-to-day physical challenge, Fox was expected to speak on camera, meet journalists, and appear before crowds in the cities he passed through. As his companions on the run, Darrell and Alward recall how the Marathon was about so much more than Fox.
Their perspectives offer new insight into Fox’s journey. We see a normal 21-year-old struggling with the pressures placed on him by a public demanding his attention, as well as the enormous expectations he placed on himself. It is a side of Fox that Canadians have rarely been given such intimate access to. Here, Menard never puts him on a cinematic pedestal. Instead, he works to deeply humanize a young man, and does so with remarkable success.
One might ask how interesting a 108-minute documentary about Fox running along Canada’s highways could possibly be. But Menard has a gift for crafting compelling stories from archival footage, the same skill he employed in his excellent chronicle of MuchMusic, 299 Queen Street West. Viewers are shown plenty of footage of Fox running along two-lane highways, flanked by pine trees and the occasional cheering section. At a glance, it can be difficult to distinguish Ontario from New Brunswick as we repeatedly watch him pound the pavement across provinces. Yet that repetition only adds to the sheer awe of what he accomplished. The footage never becomes monotonous because Menard understands how to balance the broader story with the man at its centre.
Through this film, viewers are now privy to his off-time, or what little he had of it as he embarked on his cross-country journey. Here, we see him without his public mask. While he was always ready to get his message out to Canadians, the little rest time took a toll greater than perhaps has been explored in other portraits of Fox. Despite his depleted energy, he found joy in spending time with others, including a young boy who had also lost his leg to cancer. It is these moments that Menard’s film truly has its greatest emotional impact.
Run Terry Run should be required viewing for all Canadians. Almost 45 years later, Fox’s story remains extraordinary not because the legend has grown larger, but because the person at its centre was so profoundly human. By allowing Fox to tell his own story, Menard reminds us why his legacy has endured – and why it still matters.
Run Terry Run premiered September 19 at TIFF, with an additional screening on September 20.
