Goon

Sports movies are always something of a crapshoot. Sometimes it’s all hackneyed and cliched and not especially compelling; other times the effort captures the inherent drama of the game perfectly; and the rest of the efforts fall somewhere in between. This film sits closer to the good end of the spectrum than most such movies. The two great strengths here are Seann William Scott’s low-key, almost childlike performance as the titular brawler, and a script—written by Canadians Jay Baruchel and Evan Goldberg—that nails it in terms of hockey culture both on the ice and among the game’s devotees. There’s a lot of fun throughout, including big (if rather profane) laughs, excellent hockey action, and even a touch of cute and sweet in the relationship between Scott’s unlikely hero and Alison Pill as a reluctant and less-than-ideal love interest. Yes, this film does include that most prevalent of sports flick clichés, exposition through broadcaster narration, but that’s a minor sin in relation to a whole lot of good deeds. To mix appropriate metaphors, he shoots and lands his punches. Light the lamp. 

Air

I can’t really tell: does being old enough to remember the period of this particular period piece make it a better viewing experience or not? Sure, you get a kick out of the music and the artifacts, as well as knowing the details of how it all turned out—but in some ways that’s the problem, too. Try as the principal actors might to inject some suspense here, there’s no way you don’t know the ending to the story (which is really a beginning, after all), and that fact drains out a large amount of the drama. Still, the movie deserves credit for its precise recreation of the past, and Matt Damon performs yeoman's work in making the stakes for his character Sonny seem pretty close to life and death, for the company at least if not any of the people involved. Most intriguing may be scriptwriter Alex Convery’s decision to make one character present but mostly not a presence in the tale; that makes the story more about those other folks than the one person in the tale everybody already knows all about. The one big misstep comes at the crucial moment, when the pitch is made by recounting everything that hasn’t happened yet but will, as if the future itself is intruding upon the depicted past; it makes for a scene that is just not believable, and contrary to the rest of this story's telling. Still, the overall impression is of a well-played game. I wouldn’t say that this film soars to unprecedented heights, a la a certain basketball legend, but I think it does score enough points to come away with a win.

Challengers

In tennis, it is often the case that the hardest part of the match is when you’re trying to close it out. Thus, it makes a certain amount of sense that this film falters towards the end. That’s disappointing, because a lot of the way through this is a good, interesting and enjoyable movie. The principal characters are likable, until they’re not. Their romantic triangle and all of its interpersonal machinations are amusing, until it’s not. The tennis action provides a hefty dose of entertainment value...again, until it doesn’t. Indeed, what pushes this movie over the edge and away from a positive review is the ultimate on-court confrontation between the two male leads; the final match scenes are so drawn out, so milked for drama, that the opposite effect is achieved—the action becomes tedious, disjointed and difficult to take seriously. (And the final rally at the net goes on for a laughably long time.) That specific failure shows up a lot in the film, as director Luca Guadagnino clearly strains to make his picture highly cinematic, so much so that he loses sight of simply making a good movie. Other problems stem from the direction, especially the overuse of flashbacks to tell the story; the back and forth through time works for a while, but eventually it becomes a slog trying to figure out where in the timeline the story is. (It helps not that the characters throughout appear youthful, with little difference in their appearances even between the earliest flashbacks and the later scenes.) Again, there is too much attempt to be artsy at the expense of clarity and entertainment. Oh, and the relentless use in the soundtrack of eurotrash techno “music” adds to the annoyance quotient. Still, the movie is not a total loss; the performances are excellent, especially Zendaya’s work as the eye of the movie’s romantic hurricane; this may be the best performance of her career so far. Overall, though, this movie must be labeled a disappointment. While they may have been striving for a championship, all they could actually achieve was a double fault, at best, if not an outright disqualification.

Young Woman and the Sea

Let me spoil the drama for you: she makes it, eventually. That’s not really much of a spoiler, since Gertrude Ederle accomplished her famous swimming feat a hundred years ago; only the most historically ignorant will go in not knowing the outcome. So any suspense in this film must come from the journey to the moment of triumph. Really, though, there are no surprises here—it’s all very standard sports biopic stuff. There’s humble beginnings, family conflict, obstacles and doubts, allies and enemies, and ultimate success—all the beats you expect from this kind of movie. So why, then, does this seemingly run of the mill flick merit its positive purr? Two reasons: one, the extraordinary nature of Ederle‘s achievement (and its echoing legacy throughout the years and right up to this day in women’s sports); and two, the uplifting presence of daisy Ridley, who seems positioned to corner the market on the “heroic young woman” genre. She captures the essence of her character’s spirit, of the determination that helped her overcome long odds, cruel nature and social rigidity. It all makes for a great story. Dive in on this movie—your viewing experience will indeed go swimmingly.

Space Jam: A New Legacy

A sequel, but not quite as advertised. This story actually owes more to the Terminator flicks than the Michael Jordan...uh...classic? The only 'space' involved here, it turns out, is cyber, and the threat comes not from aliens, but (in theory, at least) from one of our earthly creations. Perhaps this is why film's plot--it's stretching things a bit to call it that--does not entirely meet with expectations. Every time you think it's going to go one way, it goes another--and not necessarily in a good way. As expected, every major sports movie cliche is employed here; it seems no filmmaker can ever avoid falling into that trap, especially when the aims of the production are, artistically speaking, so low. The production as a whole often feels like little more than a product placement for various WB IPs--a contribution that no doubt comes from the studio. There's also a major character issue: Bugs here sounds almost nothing like the Mel Blanc characterization. I suppose that's no big deal, given that the bulk of the intended audience was practically born yesterday, and thus doesn't know from, but anyone with a slightly longer memory will notice the discrepancy throughout. All in all, there's not much promising here. So what then is the redeeming value, if any? What's good here mostly it comes, perhaps unexpectedly, perhaps not, from LeBron James. His easy on-screen personality, his willingness to depict himself as flawed, and his respect for his fans in not wanting to disappoint them with a poorly made film, go a long way towards siting this flick's heart into the right place. That helps smooth out some--but not all-- of this outing's rougher edges. The movie certainly works best for children, or those who have no memory of the original Space Jam (which, being honest, was no great shakes itself). Though today's variety is hardly a masterpiece, most average viewers will make it through the length  without feeling entirely cheated of their time. Not a win, nor a loss--closer to a tie, however unsatisfying that may feel.

Harvard Beats Yale 29-29

An odd viewing experience. Not necessarily a bad experience, but strange in these days when the documentary film has been raised to a creative art form. The strongest impression that comes through watching this work, about a long ago football game, is that it was made by someone who knows nothing about football. Anyone who knows the game can predict, not long into the movie (which parallels commentary with actual footage of the game) how the outcome would be realized (gigantic hint: turnovers). That predictable quality dulls the presumed suspense of the titular contest, a spoiler that is only partly redeemed by the truly unusual events that brought the game to its conclusion. Beyond the record of the game, the doc in toto gives the viewer a fairly static presentation; there's little in the way of creative touches, and everything comes across as simply functional and minimalist. That comes across as weird now that viewers have gotten used to more flair in the way docs portray their subjects. Finally, the weirdest note of all: the rather cheeky title comes from a headline that appeared in the Harvard newspaper...which is never referenced once in the body of the documentary. (It only rates a mention in the closing credits.) The filmmaker makes a bigger deal of Doonesbury cartoons (featuring parodies of the Yale jocks, including quarterback Brian Dowling). Spin it all together, and the ultimate sense is one of someone who thinks this game and its story are important simply by virtue of what colleges were involved--and thus, there's no need to do anything to engage viewers beyond that. Sorry, Ivy--the real world doesn't work that way.

Ford v Ferrari

Kind of like a mid-sized sedan manufactured back in the '90s: decent, lots of reliable parts, but never quite able to shift into high gear. The story is inherently interesting, told through vivid characters--not to mention numerous sports movie cliches--with a good cast and impeccable scene and art direction, but the problems never really go away. Damon is fine as Carroll Shelby, but Bale's work as Ken Miles ranges from pitch perfect (in his tone and presence) to distracting (his accent is largely unintelligible). Plus, the film's climax is not really a win (which would have been predictable) or a loss (which would have been provocative) but basically a tie--which hardly heightens the drama. Like most American cars these days, this model is good, but could have been better.

I, Tonya

OK, maybe blondes don't always win. But I'd still make them the betting favorites in most scenarios. It takes a lot of negatives imposed upon the flaxen-haired to hold them back; apparently, Tonya Harding lived under a rain of negatives (not unusual in the Pacific Northwest--certainly the rain part). This film makes a fairly convincing case that she achieved something of a miracle to accomplish as much as she did. That message, if it is an intentional argument of this movie, barely comes through, thanks to one huge filmmaking mistake: a lot of distractingly untimely music on the soundtrack. If you were alive back then, it's pretty easy to notice and glaringly obvious that none of the "needledrops" are contemporaneous with the story. In most cases, that would be a minor issue--but here the music is so front and center that you have to think it's intentional, and that some message is meant by it. If it's trying to appeal to a certain demographic, that seems rather pointless, and undercuts any sense that this story could have a universal appeal. If it's trying to tell the story through the music--there's reason to believe that--the effect comes across as less clever and insightful and more clumsy. The whole issue obscures a movie that could have relied upon its host of strong performances; all of the principals acquit themselves quite well, and the tale itself does have broad interest woven into its very fabric. But the ultimate impression is one of filmmakers who didn't really trust their own story--and thus, as a viewer, you're left to wonder how much trust and interest you should invest in these proceedings. Ultimately, they didn't even nail the compulsories, let alone the artistic program. Not bad, but not on the medal stand, either.

The Natural

Life in the Manichean league. Not since the black-hat/white-hat westerns of days of yore has there been a movie so simplistic in its depiction—visually, at least, if not in plot terms — of the good vs. evil conflict. And yet, despite this film’s short-spectrum presentation, the story still comes across as something of a muddle. Yes, it is apparently supposed to be something of a mystery what happened to Roy Hobbs during all those missing years—but that doesn’t mean the character’s arc should make so little sense. The viewer is left wondering why exactly that life-changing event happened at all, let alone why someone seemingly as good and grounded as Redford’s character would be so thoroughly diverted for a decade and a half. This is movie that, like most fables, I suppose, does not stand up all that well to scrutiny. Sure, the right side wins in the end—no real spoiler there; the denouement is obvious all the way through—but even such a triumphant ending ultimately comes across as unsatisfying. You can chalk this one up as a win, ultimately, but there were certainly errors made along the way.

Battle of the Sexes

A rebel and a rogue, in a different kind of star war. Given the tide of history, we all know going in not only who won the match, but whom we are supposed to root for. And, by just about any measure, that notion is correct on its face. But watching this movie, one must recognize--assuming an honest and intelligent assessment--that the victory won and the progress made necessitated both players; there could not have been the rebel without the rogue. That's something interesting to ponder. So too is the notion that this film actually seems to undermine its own point, in a way; maybe he lost simply because he didn't take it seriously enough. All in all, it's a good sign that such a movie makes you think that much about its premise and conclusions, and it definitely helps that it's wildly entertaining and expertly performed. A victory for sure.

Icarus

Yes, this doc won the Oscar for the "real reel" category, and I'm not saying it isn't good. It is. The story is absorbing and convincing; you get a real sense that the Russians, from the top on down, have been up to no good for a long time. But...I have a suspicion that the award was awarded as much for the fact that this film makes a strong case for the evils of Vladimir Putin--which, apart from being factual, has become dogma for "resistance" types, especially deep left-wing Hollywood types--as for the actual quality of the film-making. Also, one seemingly important question was left unanswered: just why the hell did director Bryan Fogel get involved with this doping stuff in the first place? It seems like that was the focus of the effort in the first place, but that gets buried once the skull and dagger stuff starts about a third of the way into the film. There's something weird about it. Not necessarily something discrediting; just weird. So the cat gives this a qualified PURR, because it's certainly a film worth watching; I'm just not sure exactly what to make of it.

42

The great strength presented by this film is its dogged determination to be authentic. The recreations of the old stadiums--based upon images that hardcore baseball fans such as myself have seen dozens of times--look to be spot on and pixel perfect. Several of the actors turn in performances that are less acting and more meticulous impressions of the real-life characters they are portraying...or at least they seem that spot on, given what we know today about the people being represented. This is especially so for some of the supporting cast, in particular John C. McGinley, who does an uncanny impersonation of Red Barber's old radio calls. Certainly, Harrison Ford submerges himself in the role of Branch Rickey, in one of the finest performances of his career. Ironically, the one actor who winds up not being the spitting image of his character is Chadwick Boseman as Jackie Robinson; Boseman lacks Robinson's high-pitched voice and thus doesn't quite fit the bill. Which is not to say that he does a poor job in the role; Boseman was asked to perform the almost thankless task of portraying an icon at his most iconic, and he acquits himself well at the job. All in all, the result is a fine sports drama that tells a great story without falling too far into the well of sports movie cliches. If it's not a home run, this movie at least comes out ahead at the end of the game.

Concussion

Solid, earnest, and convincing in its premise that the NFL knew and didn’t care. Will Smith really does give a tremendous performance; if you remember back to some of his earlier works, it can be hard to reconcile those performances with the portrayal presented here. And that’s a good thing. As for the moral, maybe some of the viewers will have reservations about watching football in the future; I suspect, however, that it won’t change anything, or at least not that much. You should still see this film anyway, just so you know what you’re supporting.

Foxcatcher

The moral of this story: strange, damaged people should not get together with other strange damaged people. The odd thing that comes through while watching this odd movie is how unnecessary the story--and its tragic ending--were. John duPont could just as easily have stood in Mark Schultz's corner as the wrestling team's sponsor; it's what a lot of rich guys do. But that damage--the need to be a "coach" beyond all self-awareness--led to inevitable conflict and breakdown, and makes this a highlight reel that no Olympian would ever want to be in. The story is clearly told, and the actors do a fine job of conveying the sense of the people--not sure how closely they capture the nature of the people they're playing--but the film loses points for its measured pace, and for being so weird and challenging to the viewer; lots of moviegoers simply would not have the patience for this one. It's worth a look, but a lot of folks simply won't like it. Your mileage may vary.

Draft Day

So it's come to this: the NFL is now producing propaganda films like some 1930s dictatorship. One wonders if there is as much veracity in this exhibition as one might have found in, say, the movie within a movie in Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. Either way, the Sabols are either spinning in their graves, or dancing in Hell, depending. Much of this movie comes across as Stupid with a capital S, though I must grudgingly admit that there's enough entertainment here to keep the viewer engaged. This is the kind of role Kevin Costner is good at, though everyone else in the cast is basically a cardboard cutout. Watch it if you really dig sports movies; just don't let yourself fall too far under the spell of "the shield."

Million Dollar Arm

Damn, those Disney people sure know how to make a movie. There's absolutely nothing surprising about this flick; everything is utterly predictable, you can see every twist and turn coming a mile away. And yet it's still an enjoyable, entertaining film to watch. Twenty years ago I would have cynically dismissed a movie like this, and that may be your reaction to this one. But having lived a little and come to recognize the value of sweet, simple, charming entertainment, I can see a work like this for what it is: perhaps not something impressive, but still worthy of our attention, and worth rooting for. Also, it's nice to be reminded that people in other countries love their children, too; we don't get enough of that here in the U.S. Bottom line: no home run, but a solid single up the middle.

Rush

Impressive, if a little predictable. Well, of course it’s predictable; the story is based on events that actually happened, in a very well-documented way, back in the ‘70s. Then again, most folks around here don’t follow Formula 1, have not heard of James Hunt nor Niki Lauda, nor know anything that happened before last week, so the story could have much freshness for today’s average movie viewer. Still, the viewer knows what will ultimately happen, even without historical knowledge, and that it will be wildly dramatic in the end. (Which makes sense; run-of-the-mill happenings don’t get made into movies, of course.) Nothing about this film really stands out, but ultimately you get a "more than the sum of its parts" result, enough to make this one worth a look.

Win Win

I don't know. We've seen a lot of this before. A small, indie film with a focus on the up and down trials (in one form or another) of a suburban family, with generous dashes of quirky humor thrown in. This template has almost been done to death by now. And no one would blame the choosy viewer if he skipped this one. But this is not a bad film; it's enjoyable to watch, with some very likable actors in the primary roles. I give it a tenuous PURR, though I won't insist on anyone going out of his way to watch.

Moneyball

This is a really great movie--if you know nothing about baseball. If you do know a thing or two about baseball, it's still good, but there's a real mountain to climb in trying to separate the fact from the fiction, to ignore all the stuff that the movie ignores and take it for what it is--which is a highly fictionalized, very narrowly focused version of what happened with the 2002 Athletics. It is, perhaps, a tribute to the skill of the filmmakers that even a very involved fan can see beyond those limitations and still find a very enjoyable movie. Your personal history will decide how you perceive these two-plus hours of cinema. For this viewer, it was like a double play turn at second: the second baseman may have been off the bag, but the "neighborhood play" gets him the call. Posted .

Secretariat

This is standard issue, boilerplate Disney movie--little more than you would have seen on the "Wonderful World of Disney" TV program 40 years ago (right when Secretariat was about to go on his historic run). It veers wildly between charming and cartoonish, presents plenty of well-worn schmaltz and platitudes, and--one suspects--fudges not a little bit on the truth. That's not to say that there are no entertaining moments here; a very appealing cast elevates the proceedings by their presence, and insomuch as the film reminds you of the true glory of Big Red, it serves as a worthwhile memorial. But one suspects this could have been a great deal more than it is.