Wired Mesh

Hoosiers on Ice

Josiah and I don't have our usual cinematic haggling in the Pulse this week; look for our review of 50 First Dates in a paper rack near you next Wednesday. (To pique your interest, let me just note that I write something so abrasive that Josiah calls me not just a hipster, not just a cynic, but a "hipster-cynic.") Meanwhile, enjoy last week's co-review on that fine icecapade of a movie, Miracle.

The Commies put their skates on one foot at a time, just like we do

By Josiah Roe and Aaron Mesh
Published in the February 11-17 issue of the Pulse

Aaron: Wasn't it Tolstoy who said that all happy families are the same, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way? I suspect that the same truth applies to sports teams: the successful ones all follow the same basic path of training and victory, while the losers tread a far more interesting road. I'll bet you could make an absolutely riveting movie about this year's Minnesota Vikings, who managed to miss the NFL playoffs after a 6-0 start to the season; the conversations in that locker room can only be imagined. Instead we get Miracle, a film that looks back at the 1980 United States Olympic hockey team, the one that shocked the Soviet machine at the Lake Placid games. The movie is basically Hoosiers on ice, with the same demanding coach looking for his own redemption, the same cast of fresh-faced athletes working harder at the fundamental than they ever imagined, the same tiny team upseting the powerhouse. (As a college buddy of mine cracked, it's Hosers.) The story is well-told, simple and direct, but I had a hard time getting past the sports movie deja vu.

Josiah: I suppose the cliché elements of the film had less effect on me because I usually do my best to avoid those movies. I watched Remember the Titans and quickly forgot it. I steered clear of Radio like I do handicap parking spaces, and I think I once watched a movie called Varsity Blues starring some kid from Dawson's Creek. The only thing I can recall from it is a whipped cream bikini and Jon Voight looking angry.

But the sports movies I see and remember are rare, but permanent: Hoosiers, Rocky, Rudy, Field of Dreams, and lets not forget the greatest of all sports movies, The Bad News Bears. We've been overdue for a good sports movie, and I think Miracle fit the bill wonderfully. It was a well-scripted, well-directed, well-acted film, and best of all it was a true story about Americans beating Commie Russians.

There' numerous reasons why Miracle is simply Cold-War nostalgic storytelling, but in a time when America's enemies are so often faceless, nameless, and hiding in the shadows it's good to hear a story about a time when evil had a face and wore a red jersey.

Aaron: I think we'll agree that Kurt Russell is both the most original and best presence in the film; his portrayal of coach Herb Brooks is interesting because it's so uncompromisingly Midwestern, like a Lake Wobegon resident who decided to leave town to yell at guys on skates. Brooks is taciturn and impermeable, and the movie flirts intriguingly with the idea that he's a bit of a sadist, driving his players on endless sprints across the ice until they can barely breathe. As Brooks, Russell is prone to utter apparently meaningless slogans ("The legs feed the wolf, gentlemen") in his Minnesotan "ya, ya betcha" accent; you can understand completely why his players adored him and were mystified by him in equal parts.

The movie is really about Brooks more than anything else; director Gavin O'Connor seems to know his hero is a bit of a square in his plaid pants and 1950's haircut, and surrounds him with an equally square movie, dedicated to the ideals of training and teamwork. At times, the complete lack of ironic detachment works perfectly, and it put me in the proper frame of mind to root for the home team. But the movie so fully believes Brooks' maxims about hard work that it spends the majority of the narrative watching the team practice, and how many times can you watch people skate around a rink?

Josiah: I'd watch probably another twenty or thirty times as long as it’s filmed smart, encourages us to keep rooting for the underdogs, and we beat the commies in the end.

Mesh, I think you're seeing the paradigm for the film in Brooks, but I'm not sure that where it rests. Where I think it rests is in how the 1980 Winter Olympic hockey game between the U.S. and Russia was a moment of hope and triumph during the heart of the Cold War and during a troubling time of economic hardship in The United States.

I think the film was trying to point out that Brooks' dedication to hard work and discipline, and his players’ camaraderie, spirit, and willingness to believe could not just take them to victory, but could be a model for a troubled nation. That's what I think the film was trying to pull off and that's why some viewers could see it as clichéd.

I, on the other hand, grew up hearing about that game from my Dad, and seeing the story told well on the big screen made for an all-around memorable filmgoing experience. I mean, when was the last time you felt like cheering at the end of a movie?

Aaron: After All the Real Girls, actually. But I’m an odd guy.

Josiah Roe and Aaron Mesh are two St. Elmoites who often stand outside the Bijou arguing about movies. They’re sort of like Ebert and Roeper, only without viable career prospects or functioning thumbs. Look for their film discussions each Wednesday in the Pulse.

Posted by mesh at February 18, 2004 02:29 PM | TrackBack