The death of the Montreal Expos and the life of Allen Iverson join a golden age of sports documentary on TV

This week brought a couple of high-profile projects that showcase the breadth of the genre. Neither the film “Who Killed the Montreal Expos?” (which premiered Tuesday on Netflix) nor the unfortunately titled, three-part series “Allen Iv3rson” (which bowed Thursday on Prime Video) are all-time greats, but they’re both well worth a look. Together they show what a big tent sports documentary can be, and remind us that sports have never been a bigger component of the pop culture swirl.

“Who Killed the Montreal Expos?” is part of what has become a sort of Netflix documentary specialty: the irreverent investigation. The central question is right there in the title: Why and how did the Expos, a team beloved by its Quebec fan base, pull up stakes and head for Washington, D.C. (where they were rechristened the Nationals), in 2005? As the documentary ably illustrates, and as is usually the case in such matters, there is no smoking gun or magic bullet. Just a sad trail of dysfunction, neglect, conflicting egos, and, of course, greed.

Director Jean-Francois Poisson rounds up the usual suspects. There’s Claude Brochu, who failed to get funding for a new stadium and lost the confidence of the ownership consortium he led from 1991 to 2001. He’s depicted here mostly as a fall guy for events beyond his control. There’s the Quebec government, which refused to provide funding for said new stadium in the late ’90s. There’s Jeffrey Loria, who swooped in from the US to buy the team in 2001 before flipping it, like a common real estate property, after just one year. The buyer? Major League Baseball itself (no conflict there).

What does become clear is that Expos fans loved their team dearly, especially when management put a winning product on the field. In 1994, the Expos were dominating the league with a 74-40 record. Then came a players’ strike, brought about by some of the same have/have not financial conditions that plagued the Expos throughout their existence. Just like that, the dream season was over. Among the stars of that team was a future Red Sox immortal named Pedro Martinez, who gets emotional in the film about his passion for Montreal, the team, and its fans. “Montreal stole my heart,” he says in the doc. “Every time I come to Montreal, every time I see my people, my fans, I get sentimental.”

Pedro Martinez in the documentary “Who Killed the Montreal Expos?”Courtesy of Netflix

If you watch “Who Stole the Montreal Expos,” do yourself a favor and go with the French language option. There’s a smattering of English speakers, but most of those interviewed here speak French, and dubbing does their passion no favors. The subtitles are solid, and, more to the point, this is a French Canadian love story and fan tragedy. It deserves to be experienced in its native tongue.

“Allen Iv3rson” — the NBA star wore No. 3, but someone in branding at Prime Video still should have known better — is also a love story of sorts. It’s about a kid from Hampton, Va., fiercely devoted to his family, especially his mom, who was just 15 when he was born. The series’ most intimate moments revolve around Iverson shooting the breeze, laughing, and even crying with his extended family.

Like the recent Apple TV documentary series “Mr. Scorsese,” “Allen Iv3rson” is a sympathetic, highly authorized biography of a very forthright subject. While it doesn’t veer far from the official story, Iverson comes across as a guy with little to hide. That includes his early teen years as a street hustler — the series doesn’t come right out and say he was slinging drugs, but you can read between the lines easily enough — and the four months he spent in the Newport News City Farm correctional facility for his role in a bowling alley brawl when he was 17. That incident is at the heart of an excellent 2010 installment of ESPN’s “30 for 30″ series, “No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson.”

Directed by One9, with executive producers including Stephen Curry and Shaquille O’Neal, the series paints a vivid, streetwise portrait of the man most responsible for bringing hip-hop style and swagger to the NBA. I can appreciate this as an aging hip-hop head who watches way too much basketball, and who savors memories of watching Iverson cook with the ball in his hands. I can also appreciate the care with which the series incorporates vintage hip-hop tracks, from Redman’s “Tonight’s Da Night” to Raekwon’s “Ice Cream.” (One9 also directed the excellent hip-hop portrait “Nas: Time is Illmatic.”) Iverson was a divisive player, as the series readily acknowledges, and the above might mean nothing to you if you found his cornrows and tattoos offensive. As the cover of the June 1997 issue of Slam magazine asked, “Who’s Afraid of Allen Iverson?” But if you’re a fan — remember, we’re talking about sports here — you shouldn’t miss it.

And if none of this is your flavor, more is on the way. Netflix just announced the production of an upcoming Kevin Durant documentary series. Prime Video is readying a Terrell Owens doc. Sports are a year-round attraction and distraction. So, now, are sports documentaries.

Chris Vognar can be reached at chris.vognar@globe.com. Follow him on Instagram at @chrisvognar and on Bluesky at chrisvognar.bsky.social.