A film review by Craig J. Koban
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS
Coach Gaines: Billy Bob Thornton / Mike Winchell: Lucas Black
/ Don Billingsley: Garrett Hedlund /
Boobie Miles: Derek Luke / Brian Chavez: Jay Hernandez / Ivory Christian: Lee Jackson
/ Chris Comer: Lee Thompson Young / Charles Billingsley: Tim McGraw
/ L.V. Miles: Grover Coulson
Directed by Peter Berg / Written by Berg and
David Aaron Cohen / Based on the book by H.G. Bissinger
It’s very abundantly clear that after watching Peter Berg’s FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS that there are actually three certainties in life for the citizens of a small West Texas town that preoccupies the film - death, taxes, and most assuredly football.
To be sure, the allure of the game of football is placed very squarely at
center field (no pun intended) in this new film, which is an adaptation of the
best selling book FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS: A TOWN, A TEAM, A DREAM by H.G Bissinger,
which itself follows a season in the life of a high school football team, the
Permian Panthers 1988 season to be exact, in the tiny town of Odessa, Texas.
Although I have not read the book to which the film (one of the best
sports films of recent memory) adapts, I can confidently say
that the film chiefly supports and relishes on the often troubling assertion
that sports can indeed consume a small town to the point where it sort becomes a
sick religion. Sundays may be for
Church for the citizens of Odessa, but on Friday nights, they worship at the
alter of a 100 yard playing field.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS does have all of
the standard material that makes up most contemporary pictures about sports - it
has the star player, the weak player lacking in confidence and filled with self
doubt, the caring, yet personally motivated coach that would give a kidney for a
championship season, the parental figure that is abusive and inflicts pain, both
mental and physical, on his player/son, the player that gets injured and faces a
life without his beloved sport, and, of course, what sports film would be
complete without the obligatorical final “big game” where all of the odds
are at stake.
Yes, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS has all of these elements in huge abundance. Yet, the film works beyond these simple levels and adds a whole new contextual layer around it. It’s not a startling expose on what physically playing football is like, nor does it feel the need to bog itself down in action set pieces or the “big game” itself. This film, like another great sports entry from 2004 – MIRACLE – is about psychology. FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS not only focuses on the players and coaches and what makes them tick, but it also wisely examines the social and small town political climate that fosters the sport of football into something that does not resemble a fun sporting event, but more or less a life-and-death struggle to which the town’s identity and place in the world are at risk. At one point the Odessa coach, played in another disquieting performance of power and reserve by Billy Bob Thornton, tells his young team that they have a responsibility to protect their team, their sport, and most importantly, their town.
At this juncture, something really dawned on me -
football today for these small town zealots, who place it on an unheard
of pedestal of worship, may just be less of an enjoyable high school
extracurricular activity and more of a curse.
This just may be the first high school sports film that does not glorify
its sport into something enjoyable and grand.
No, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is a gritty and ugly look at a game where
innocence is basically shoved out of the way because, dammit, the town will not
survive unless the team goes to the state championship.
For a young seventeen-year-old player, am I the only one that is
thinking, “Isn’t this a bit too much pressure to place on a person this
young?”
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS details, very effectively, the 1988 season of the Odessa Permian Panthers, but it also does an expert job of exposing the darker side of high school sports – the adults of the small community that live all-too-dangerously and vicariously through the sport of football. The film is strongly about adults who, as crazy as it may seem to some some, define their entire existence by the sport they love. The film is like one long radio sports talk show that has one of those blubbering and raging super fans that chastise and lament on every aspect on the performance of their favourite team to the point where a major psychological examination should be recommended. Odessa is a small town like many we recognize. It has simple-minded and good-hearted citizens (for the most part) that lead good daily lives that are productive and rewarding.
Yet, the most fascinating (and shocking aspect) of the small town is just
how seriously they take the sport of football.
The playback of a local radio talk show that has citizens chime in with
their comments about the their team is a constant regurgitated element of the
film, and the amount of completely downbeat criticism and vilification their
speak of would be enough to wear down and demean any person.
The level of pressure that these people place on the coaches and children
(let’s face it, these are kids after all) is absolutely mind-blowing
and frustrating, as one obsessed and ignorant caller yells out, “They’re
doing too much schooling and not enough sporting!”
The film has an abundance of good,
solid characters; the most evocative and compelling would be that of the
Odessa coach Gary Gaines (Thornton). Thornton occupies the role as effortlessly as he has ever
had, and forges a persona that is both deeply committed to his passion for
football, but almost kind of inwardly turned off by what he sees around him.
He does not voice his concerns or issues outright, as he is a man of
inward convictions, and does not feel the need to speak out when his eyes do all
of the talking for him. Clearly,
here is the portrait of a man that loves his sport and would be willing to do
anything to compel and inspire his young team, but he is also troubled by what
he hears and sees around him. There
is one disturbing and powerful scene at the beginning of the film where Gains
sees one of his receivers Don (Garrett Hedlund) having trouble actually hanging
onto the ball in a pre-season practice. His
abusive father, played with real power by Tim McGraw (yes, that one) goes right
on to the field and nearly beats his child up.
You can see in Gaines’ eyes that something is just not pure and
exciting about his sport anymore.
There is also another revealing
moment that comes very close to encapsulating the film’s tone and mood.
A scene where Gaines sits down with his star receiver Bobbie Miles (Derek
Luke) to discuss his ability to continue playing is also a strongly realized
moment. Miles injured his knee, so
much that a MRI and a specialist has told him that there is “no way” he can
continue to play football. Miles is
like all talented players - he’s so sure of his natural ability that it clouds
his already large ego to the point where common sense is largely vacant.
His sense is so far removed that he chews out the specialist and is so
convinced of his “God-given” talent that he and his uncle (Grover Coulson)
go back and tell Gaines that he’s fit to play.
It’s not so shocking that Miles tells Gaines this, but it’s
enormously disconcerting to see his guardian, his own uncle, support Miles.
The culture of football has such a dangerous stranglehold on this town
that even adults are willing to sacrifice their child’s well being for a
chance at winning. For Odessa,
it’s not about the how you play the game or for the fun of it, it’s all
about winning, even if it means disabling a loved one.
Since the sport has been stripped
away from anything resembling purity, the players and Gaines himself live a life
that is all about breathing, eating, and sleeping with a constant barrage of
criticisms, suggestions, hell, even threats.
Of course, Gaines loves football because it’s “just a game”, but
deep down inside him and his players, it’s not…it’s something much
more dark and serious. Thornton has
a soft-spoken manner of playing this man of duplicity.
Gaines has to appear strong, confident, and intelligent to his town, who
would be willing to verbally praise him as a hero and then simultaneously lynch
him as a failure, but he also must demonstrate and sensitive and reflective
edge, especially when dealing with his players.
When Gaines goes over to his quarterback’s house (played very
effectively by Lucas Black), it's not one of those clichéd-filled sport movie
scenes where the coach screams at his player to step it up a notch. Their moment
together is quiet and soft-spoken, and Thornton is so graceful, tactful, and
calm with his young star. He
realizes that the town is overwhelming these kids and beating them down.
The only way to motivate is with low-key charm. not a verbal tirade of
hurtful insults.
The film also works beyond its
character moments as a textbook exercise in filmmaking craft as well.
Peter Berg and his cinematographer Tobias A. Schliessler decided to shoot
the film in quick, sporadic, hand-held shots made up of grainy and gritty
photography that gives the film an overwhelming sense of realism, sort of a
loose documentary style in a way. The
camera moves are fast, hectic, and often difficult to follow at first, but this
technique, with a precise use of desaturated colours, upholds the inherent
ugliness of the sport. This is not
REMEMBER THE TITANS, but rather a film about football from the trenches outward.
FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS may not appeal to the lay viewer because, well,
it’s simply not a good-looking film that panders and postures around
bold and colourful visuals. Even in
the concluding football scenes Berg cuts the film fast and frantically.
High school sports here looks more like combat warfare…its kind of
disheartening, almost tragic. In a
way, one’s youth is somewhat lost in the violent and tumultuous world of first
downs and bone-crunching tackles. During one sad moment in the film when the quarterback tells his teammate, “I
can’t remember the last time I felt seventeen,” you really understand
how he feels.
I think this is why FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS emerges as one of the best football films ever made. Yes, it does play up to the conventions of the sports melodrama, but this real-life story has much more going for it than these superficial elements. In many sports films the central element is the big final game that shows the ultimate victory of the team we’ve been routing for two hours. In FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS the focus is not the game at all really, but more about the emotional, psychological, and sociological climate that leads to the game. The film has many great action moments, but it’s more concerned with what’s going on in the character’s minds. It’s also about the tragedy of having your possible dreams being shattered in merely an instant. Miles, after his knee injury, starts to realize that the severity of his condition dictates the possibility of never playing again. He then looks out of his car and momentarily stares at the nearby garbage men. Berg holds the shot, long enough for us to get the point. Miles does not want a life of manual labor if he can’t have football. The tragedy of the film is that, unfortunately, he lives in a volatile climate where no one ever pulls him aside and tells him that a life without football may just be okay.
