Friday Night Lights [Blu-ray] [2004] [US Import]

Director Peter Berg's film version of "Friday Night Lights" is based on the true story of the Odessa-Permian Panthers and their 1988 season. What "true" means in this case is that the name of the coach and the key players are accurate, as are the number of losses the Panthers had that year (although the scores are different, as is one of the opponents). Overall, the film avoids going Hollywood until the final game, which does manage to be true to the spirit of the film even if it requires a stupid play call to help things along (I am sorry, but if it is 4th down and half the length of a football to go, and your offensive line outweighs the defense by at least 50 pounds a person, you call a quarterback sneak and get a least a yard more than you need just by firing off the ball; at least, that is what my father has always told me and since he played college football for an undefeated team, Trinity in Connecticut, I tend to listen to him).

This film affirms, for the upteenth time, that the main thing wrong with sports involving kids are the adults, either in the form of the parents, or the concerned citizens whose support of coach is based primarily on the score of the last game. The prototypical parent in this story is Charles Billingsley (Tim McGraw), who has his state championship ring and makes it clear that his son, Don (Garrett Hedlund), will be a failure if he does not do the same. Unfortunately, Don has a tendency to fumble, so Charles has no problem going down onto the field during practice to set the boy straight. Is Don playing football for his dad or despite his dad? There is no easy answer to that question, because life, family, and football are all wrapped up together in Odessa, Texas. The town might be mired in an economic depression, but that does not stop them from having a football stadium bigger than what some colleges and universities enjoy.

Coach Gary Gaines (Billy Bob Thornton) is supposed to go undefeated and win the state championship. Perham has done this four times before, in 1965, 1976, 1980, and 1984. Apparently they have a four year crop rotation program going and everybody in town can do the math to figure out 1988 is going to be the year. When the Boobie Miles (Derek Luke) the star running back gets hurt the coach gets the blame even though it is clear, like in a classic Greek tragedy, that the Fates are punishing the sin of hubris. Boobie is all ready to spend his money for playing in the NFL and he has not even picked a college yet. Basking in his stardom, Boobie gladly admits to reporters that he gets straight A's because he is an athlete and as he leaves defenders in the wake of his sweet moves you can understand why he is the most important play for Permian. But the goddess of mischief hides the helmet of his backup Chris Comer (Lee Thompson Young), and everybody knows that when you are running the score up and keep your superstar in the game, somebody is going to go gunning for him.

There are several key factors that make "Friday Night Lights" work. The first is Thornton's performance, which is yet another reminder that he is one of the finest film actors around today. His Coach Gaines goes between moments of screaming at his players in the grand tradition of football coaches going back to Knute Rockne and beyond and measured silences as he endures another rabid fan excoriating him on talk radio or the "For Sale" signs that have sprung up in his front yard after a loss. But there are also moments when the speaks from the heart, whether it is to his quarterback, Mike Winchell (Lucas Black) in the squalid home the kid shares with his mentally disturbed mother (Connie Cooper), or the final halftime speech to his team. What distinguishes Gaines from every other man in the story is that he knows that in the end, football is just a game. He just has to be careful about who he shares this particular bit of wisdom with during the season.

Berg makes a brilliant decision to shoot this story as if it were a documentary. This works well in the extended game sequences, but suits the rest of the film as well, which is important because the most important moments in "Friday Night Lights" come at other times. Some of the best scenes take place away from the lighted field as Boobie and his uncle (Grover Coulson) deal with the disappearance of the dream during a visit to a doctor, when the garbage truck makes it rounds, and when the kid cleans out his locker. This leads to the third key factor, which is that we care about the kids that the story focuses on, including the silent "Preacher" (Lee Jackson) and the kid who is going to Harvard to become a lawyer, Brain Chavez (Jay Hernandez). We do not care about the fans or the families or the rest of the town, just the kids, and their performances match those of Thornton in providing a realism that we just do not get in most of the films in the sports genre.

I really liked this movie until the end, where the action and the emotions smack too much of Hollywood, not to mention David versus Goliath, than what had been established up to that point. Still, in the end Berg focuses exactly where he should, on the kids who have finished their high school football careers and the coach who has to immediately start planning for next year, when Odessa-Permian would again undertake the sacred quest for perfection.

The DVD extras are pretty good, including a documentary on the real 1988 Permian Panthers that shows us the actual players both then and now, although if you want to know about the real football games played that season you have to go check out the school's website. There is also a solid commentary track by Berg and Bissinger (who are cousins) that does a nice job of mixing history and art.

Back to my mixed feelings, though. I love football; it's a great sport that lets you have some fun and learn important lessons, such as teamwork, you can put to good use throughout your life - but there is an ugly side to the sport, and Friday Night Lights shows you just about everything that is wrong with this great game. There is nothing fun about being a Panther during the season chronicled in this film. On day one of practice, every kid on every high school team should want a state championship, but none should expect it. Desire brings out the best in you, while expectation sets you up for a fall. In Odessa, Texas, though, the very spirit of the game is betrayed by the adults in the community; not only do they expect a championship, they demand it; these most rabid of fans might know every play in the playbook, but they know nothing about what football (in my opinion) should really be all about. The stress these kids feel to not only win, but pulverize every opponent is much more than any 17-year-old should ever have to bear.

The film basically takes us through the 1988 football season for the Panthers, from the first practice to the final game. That first practice sets an ugly tone for what is to come, and things get even uglier when the team's star running back hurts his knee in the first game. It will not be a perfect season in Odessa. Losing, of course, brings out the worst in some people who were already pretty bad to begin with. The parent of a chronic fumbler, already embarrassed that his son isn't following in his footsteps, pretty much goes off the deep end; the quarterback, living with an ailing mother and desperate for a scholarship that can take him away from this town, gets pushed pretty close to the breaking point, and the star player refuses to believe he is seriously injured because he can't imagine a life without football. What of the coach, the enabler, the molder of young minds? Billy Bob Thornton may be terrific in this film, but I never got inside the head of the coach he played. In the end, I see him as perhaps the worst kind of coach you can have. He's not honest with his team, he doesn't take care of his players, and he puts an obviously injured player back in action without even consulting either of the doctors who examined him. He plays down expectations at times, but it's just an act; all too soon he is frothing at the mouth on the sidelines. Some say he figures things out in the end, realizes that football is just a game, but I disagree. That heartfelt talk with the quarterback: a cruel form of motivation; that half-time speech at the big game: more psychological motivation. It's all about winning for him - that's my interpretation, at least.

The film does have its moments, though. When the injured superstar finally breaks down, it's more than a poignant moment - the film virtually stops right there; it's one of the most powerful scenes I've seen in a long time. Other big moments, though, rubbed me the wrong way. Having your father finally show something better than contempt for you is good, but the reason why it happens in this case sends a message I find quite wrong.

This is definitely a film about high school football. Academics, the very thing that high school is supposed to be all about, is nowhere to be found here - except in the reading problems of a certain star athlete and random comments about more money going to athletics than education. As a full-fledged nerd, and as someone currently involved in education who has to hold his tongue when he sees luxurious athletics buildings erected on a campus desperately needing additional classrooms, I am going to have to stifle myself right here. It does disappoint me a little bit to interpret this film the way I do - for, the way I see it, it ultimately says winning isn't everything - but it is pretty darn close. Whatever its message, though, Friday Night Lights does make you think, and it is a gripping sports-related film, and that is more than enough to make it well worth watching.

Billy Bob Thornton, as the Panthers' head coach Gary Gaines, gives what may have been the first Oscar-worthy performance of the 2004 film season. Odessa expects the Panthers to win the state championship, and no excuses for failure are acceptable. As Coach Gaines admonishes his players:

"You have the responsibility of protecting this team and this school and this town."

Yes, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is about football (and contains some of the best gridiron action you'll ever see outside of the real thing), but, in a larger arena, it's a commentary on the almost crushing pressure on teenage athletes to win the Big One for town, school, friends, and family. It could just as well be about baseball, basketball, or ice hockey.

At the outset, Gaines builds his offense around a single, star running back, Boobie Miles (Derek Luke). But after Miles is seriously injured early on and lost to the team for the season, the burden falls on senior quarterback Mike Winchell (Lucas Black) and the fumble-prone running back, Don Billingsley (Garret Hedlund). Winchell's focus is hindered by the realization that going off to college will force him to leave behind his dependent mother. On the other hand, the hapless Billingsley is constantly browbeaten by his abusive father Charles (CW singer Tim McGraw), once himself a player on a champion Panther squad, who can't understand why Don is so inept and fears that his son may squander the only chance he'll ever have for the memory of a fleeting glory in an otherwise unremarkable life. However, Derek Luke provides the film's undeniably most powerful scene - worthy a Best Supporting nod by itself - when he emotionally breaks down under the realization that he can no longer do the only thing he's good at, i.e. play football.

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is undoubtedly a Guy Flick. While my wife wasn't exactly bored in the cinema seat, she can't understand why I'm rating the film so highly. It's partly because of Billy Bob's superb performance, but also because it's lean and hard-hitting film about boys being shoved into manhood by pressures beyond their control. In another era, the film would have been about young men forged in the hell of armed combat. Here, it's just west Texas.