Sports movies defy conventional criticism.
After seeing the flawed new soccer film “The Game of Their Lives,” which chronicles the 1950 U.S. World Cup team that beat England in a first-round game, I found it difficult to separate my love for good movies from my love for sports. “The Game of Their Lives” is not a very good movie, but as a sports movie, it works. Sports films come with their own set of unique conventions. Let’s break it down now:
Gratuitous training montage with inspiring music. Perfection: “Rocky IV.” Composer Vince DiCola is the Terrence Malick of film scores. In his career, he has worked on three major films: “Staying Alive,” in which Frank Stallone laid down the vocals; 1986’s transcendent “Transformers: The Movie,” in which Weird Al stood in for Eric Idle on “Dare To Be Stupid;” and this.
Why it’s sweet: Watching Rocky chase chickens and carry logs up a Siberian mountain to the triumphant synths of DiCola’s opera of awesomeness makes my veins stick out like I’m actually doing something other than watching “Rocky IV.”
Why I am beyond criticism: Have you seen Sylvester Stallone’s abs?
“The Game of Their Lives,” against all odds, is successful in this regard. There’s a reason soccer movies aren’t common — soccer is boring. Those who think soccer sucks will be satisfied with director David Anspaugh’s unexciting camerawork, which stays at eye level with the players, save the occasional overhead shot or close-up of moving feet. However, the film does establish the rhythm of the game, and against a wonderful score by the late Jerry Goldsmith (completed by William Ross), it’s some sort of simple beauty.
Underdog, against-all-odds protagonist(s): Every sports movie ever. Nobody wants to watch a movie about stupid Michael Jordan.
Why it’s sweet: If you don’t root for the underdog, you can go home and sleep under your Yankees pennants. The rest of us will watch “Cool Runnings.”
In “Game,” we’re constantly told that our hard-working Americans aren’t very good at soccer.
I find this very easy to believe.
It’s interesting the way the film co-opts the sport as something uniquely American. One scene features a speech about the democracy of soccer. Soccer is the world’s sport, the movie says, so it’s about time we hegemonic Americans showed that for 100 cinematic minutes, we can do it better. And still be underdogs.
The main villain in the film is, unbelievably, Gavin Rossdale, the lead singer of Bush, a band constantly (and unfairly) derided for ripping off Nirvana. He’s not that bad, prancing around in a skort with limp wrists. However, the “120 Minutes” inside of me wanted nothing more than to see him suffer.
Goosebump-inducing sentimentality. Perfection: “Field of Dreams,” “Rudy,” “The Natural,” any sports film that’s actually any good.
Why it’s sweet: This is the dealbreaker. If you are unwilling to let the last 15 minutes of “Field of Dreams” paralyze you with joy, then you are unfit to complete this column.
Only in a sports film can the gruesome, manipulative heart-tugging of watching Kevin Costner play catch with his old man be acceptable. The sports film always asks that you believe the unbelievable, it toys with the facts, and it plays the emotions of adult men who would never cry at “Fried Green Tomatoes” but know that watching a bullet-laden Robert Redford somehow pulverize dozens of stadium lights with one homer will give them a proverbial skinned knee.
Why I am right: Find a middle-aged Indiana man and show him “Breaking Away” or “Hoosiers.” If you want to make fun of him afterward, that’s your thing.
In “Game,” the winning goal is almost undetectable — in fact, I didn’t see Walter Bahr’s deflected shot that secured the 1-0 victory. A good sports film will build this up substantially and include unnecessary slow-motion shots, hammering us over the head with obviousness. It’s not that the film is trying to defeat convention, like last year’s superb “Friday Night Lights;” it’s just being bad. The game is also annoyingly narrated by a British broadcaster and culminates in a cheap group hug that insults the good name of “Miracle” before it.
Writing about sports films doesn’t lend itself to intelligence, and, indeed, here I have skipped most of the respectable sports movies — Ron Shelton’s films, like “Bull Durham;” comedies like “Slap Shot” or “The Bad News Bears;” or serious-minded dramas, such as “Raging Bull,” “Chariots of Fire” and “Rookie of the Year.” “The Game of Their Lives” falls into that unique genre of fantasy sports films, and in that world alone, it is an underdog.
Communication junior Kyle Smith is the PLAY columnist. He can be reached at [email protected].
