Friday Night Lights Movie Review: By Adam Mast, ZBoneMan.com

Friday Night Lights is a rousing, sometimes depressing sports film that more
often than not, succeeds because of it’s determination to stay grounded in
realism. As a result, it doesn’t evoke the same sort of uplifting tone as Rudy, but at least it manages to put to rest that God-awful excuse of a movie Varsity Blues.

Based on the gritty book by H.G. Bissinger, Friday Night Lights recreates
the 1988 season of the Odessa Permian Panthers, a tough as nails Texas high school football team. Through the course of the story we are introduced to the team’s players, and by the end of the movie it is perfectly clear that
for many of these teenagers, the game is all they have. Losing just isn’t
acceptable. These players feel they have nothing else to live for. In this
respect, it resembled the far superior Hoosiers, though the small town Indiana jocks are far less desperate and pitiable than their Texan gridiron counterparts.

The cast is headed by Billy Bob Thornton who hits the right notes as Coach
Gary Gaines. While he certainly can be the stereotypical hot head on the
playing field, he isn’t without his vulnerable moments. Like his players, he
constantly feels the pressure around him, and there are plenty in Odessa who
make it known that failure is not an option.

Of the players, I was most moved by Lucas Black (who played opposite Billy
Bob in Sling Blade) and a terrific Derek Luke (Antwone Fisher) who gets
stronger with each passing performance. Black’s Mike Winchell is a quiet,
determined Texan, and while he doesn’t come across as all that bright off the playing field, once the shoulder pads are on, he’s in his element. Luke’s Boobie Miles is the flashiest player this side of Jamie Foxx’s Willie Beamen in Any Given Sunday. Unfortunately, the biggest ego in the world can’t prevent unforeseen injuries, and Miles sustains a big one. Luke showcases equal levels of cockiness and sympathy, and his emotional breakdown in this movie is tough to watch.

There’s been much made of Tim McGraw’s big acting debut. He didn’t do
much for me. His role as a jerk of a father felt one-dimensional, and all
but a pale imitation of fellow country star Dwight Yoakam’s chilling portrayal of a menacing stepfather in Sling Blade. His big scene at the end of Friday Night Lights felt labored and unrealistic, but part of that was the fault of the writing.

The screenplay by David Aaron Cohen and Peter Berg avoids many of the
cliches of the typical underdog sports film. It also isn’t afraid to tackle
the tougher side of the material including high racial tension that
surrounded a pivotal game in 1988. Sadly though, the PG-13 rating undermines the grittiness of the proceedings. I certainly don’t need to hear "f" this and "f" that, but there’s something really ridiculous about hearing Billy
Bob utter lines like; "Those gosh darn sons of guns!" It’s just silly.
Still, Friday Night Lights deserves props for not sugar coating the Texas high school football experience. It’s hard for me to relate, because I was never a part of that world, but I have talked to people who were and they say the movie is quite authentic.

After attending a screening, I bumped into a couple of football players who
didn’t share my somewhat positive reaction to the film. They thought
Thornton was all wrong for the role and preferred the more energetic turn by
Denzel Washington in Remember the Titans.

Friday Night Lights was directed by actor Peter Berg (seen most recently in
a bit part in Michael Mann’s excellent Collateral). The project became a
labor of love for Berg after original director Alan Pakula passed away a few
years back. Berg takes a restrained approach to the story line - which, unfortunately doesn’t always mesh with the hand-held camera work. The cinematography is terribly uneven and annoying to the point where I wanted to throw up a yellow flag. It served the on-the-field sequences, but detracted from the character portions of the film.

Friday Night Lights is a good movie. As I stated, it works better than
disposable fare like Varsity Blues. But somehow, I felt like something was
missing. Something more fundamental than the dialed-down language and frantic cinematography. I applaud the picture for it’s climactic game and it’s truthful look at what this sport means to a lot of people, but save for Gaines, Winchell and Miles, I never really felt as if I knew all these characters. Still, I was more impressed than not, and along with the exceptional Miracle, 2004 has produced two very good sports films.

Grade: B-

Adam Mast, ZBoneMan.com