This week, in Below the Fold: another review! What, are reviews all that I write these days? First CodeBreakers, then Sports Guy’s book,
and now another one? I think our esteemed editor is punishing me
for my long holiday break. Well, no, actually, it’s just that our
friends at Deadspin beat me to an NFL playoff blog review. Ah well. Second choice or no, Glory Road is a worthy subject…if only so we can ask, how did Disney screw this up?
As always, a quick recap of the material we’re working with.
Flashback to Texas in late 1965: a scrappy team from Texas Western (now
UTEP), coached by future Hall of Fame coach Don Haskins, goes from
preseason anonymity to a spot in the NCAA Tournament, all while
fighting racial division in the locker room and violence on the
road. The team perseveres, and after a few overtime victories,
faces off against all-white, and heavily favored, Kentucky in the
tournament finale. Addressing the racial issue head on, Coach
Haskins plays only his African-American players against the all-white
Wildcats, resulting in a first-ever championship for the Miners.
If
it sounds like a great metaphor for the racial unrest throughout the
South (and indeed, nation) in 1966, you’d be right; Scoop Jackson
provides solid, if incomplete, context
for that viewpoint over at Page 2. And oh, if only the movie had
been that - this column could be lauding Disney for taking on a really
tough subject with sports.
But that’s not the movie that Disney
wanted to make. In case you haven't noticed, Disney likes
feel-good, not controversy, in no small part because feel-good makes
for easy profit: IMDB estimates that the Mouse made over $80 million on Remember the Titans and probably another $30 million on Miracle,
even before DVD sales. Make no mistake, there is plenty to feel
good about in this story, but on the other hand, there is just as much
that we should think about afterwards. This movie could have been a lot
more. So instead of a smart historical piece (with some good
basketball), we get a mix of those two movies (in another column, Scoop
quotes Jerry Bruckheimer, who produced both, as saying just as much.) And in searching for another Miracle, Disney fell way short.
Let’s
make one thing clear – this wasn’t the actors’ fault. Josh Lucas
does an admirable job as Don Haskins, even if his Oklahoma accent fades
in and out and he weighs approximately 572 lbs. less than the real
man. Jon Voight continues the Lane Smith legacy of playing an
effective, even likable, evil geezer in sports movies, showing Adolph
Rupp as a great collegiate coach he unquestionably was while striking a
nice balance between the positive and negative (even racist) images
that have clouded Rupp’s legacy. And known professionals,
led by Antwone Fisher’s Derek Luke (Bobby Joe Hill) mix
with of long-time ballers, first-time actors like Schin A.S. Kerr
(David Lattin) to make the Texas Western team seem genuine both on the
screen and the court.
It’s too bad we didn’t
get to see more of them on the court, though. The producers cut the
basketball down to six games – the regular season opener against
Eastern New Mexico, a key midseason matchup against Iowa, a game
against a racist team and crowd at East Texas State, their only loss to
Seattle, and the two key NCAA Tournament games against Kansas and
Kentucky. Having just typed it out, that reads like a lot of
basketball.
Trust me, it’s not, and it’s not enough.
Despite
pressing the point, perhaps too hard, that the black players for Texas
Western allowed them to play a different style than their opponents, we
didn’t see enough on-the-court action to verify this for
ourselves. It’s a movie, folks; we need to see it and hear
it. Show the other teams running set play after set play, then
show the motion and dribble penetration that Texas Western rode to
success. It doesn’t take that long, we promise. You can
even use a montage. I swear we won’t mind.
What we do mind, however, is changing the story to make for a better movie. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, that's why they say "based on a true story" instead of "truth" . But the makers of Glory Road
took liberties that Bill Clinton wouldn’t dream of with an intern under
his desk. They imply that 1965-66 was Haskins’ first season at
Texas Western, when it was indeed his fifth. They claim that Haskins brought the first black players to the South, even though he inherited three from his predecessor, including former Arkansas coach Nolan Richardson.
They oversimplify, saying that the winner of the “first round” NCAA
tournament game between Texas Western and Kansas (each had already won
two games) would play for the National Championship, when instead the
winner would play Utah in the Final Four.
The
producers got all those facts right on the movie's website, but
committed one far greater transgression: before the final game,
they show Haskins as he explains to his players that, in order to
make a point, he’ll only play his black players against Kentucky.
The problem is, Haskins himself says he didn’t think about race before choosing his lineup for the game, and the stats are on the coach’s side
– his least productive black player, reserve forward Willie Cager,
averaged three times as many points and rebounds a game as his most
productive white player, and only center David Lattin (whose backup,
Nevil Shed, was also black) got into foul trouble in the championship tilt.
So
why did Disney take so many liberties with the script? Maybe it’s
because the “us-against-them” racial story wasn’t as clear cut as the
movie makes it out to be. In Glory Road, the only black
player we see on another team is Kansas’ Jo-Jo White. In real
life, the Utah team the Miners played in the Final Four featured several black players, as had several other teams Texas Western played that year.
The
Miners also weren’t the first team featuring black players to win a
championship: the 1962-63 National Champion Loyola (Ill.) Ramblers started four African-Americans.
Not to mention that by 1966, professional sports teams had reached
nearly full integration. While it’s true that no ACC, SEC, or SWC
team featured black athletes (and yes, that is a big deal), the movie
misleads the viewer by exaggerating the extent of collegiate
bigotry.
So instead of making hard
choices and showing the viewer just how different those Miners were
than other team, just how important it was that a Southern team had
integrated, and just how much of an impact that Texas Western team had
on generations to come, Disney punted. “A few scenes of fans
harassing them on the road to show the racial discord? Yeah,
that’s enough of that. A couple jokes and a couple scary moments
to show the team coming together as one? Sure, that’s
plenty. A few scant basketball scenes so we don’t spend too much
in production? Sounds like a good plan. And, hey, Miracle
was a big success … nobody gets tired of underdog stories! Let’s
sell this as the NEXT biggest upset! Yeah, that’ll work!”
Except
they weren’t, not really. Texas Western entered the NCAA
Tournament ranked #3 in the final regular season media poll, having
lost only one game all season. In Miracle, even as you watch the movie you expect the Soviets to win. In Glory Road, you wonder how Kentucky was ever favored in the first place.
Back
in 1966, Texas Western’s 72-65 victory made for a great headline and a
heroic return to El Paso. After shining through history’s prism, the
1966 national champions changed college athletics forever. That’s
a good enough story, and because of that, Glory Road is a good enough movie.
But
it could have been better. The producers’ tried to tell too many
stories with too little content, and left viewers with a confusion of
themes, none of them developed in full. Disney discovered with Miracle
that you really only need one powerful theme to make a great sports
movie. It’s too bad that, in attempting to recreate that movie’s
success, they forgot that important lesson. And it’s really too
bad that the tale of the Miners’ triumph … a great story even if it
wasn’t a great upset … was the movie that left you wanting something
more. |