Race for Glory, Produced by Jeremy Thomas

Rally racing is sort of like NASCAR stock racing for Europeans. Similarly, this film could be considered Italy’s Ford vs. Ferrari. In this case, the Italian Lancia motor company is the underdog against Audi, but team manager Cesare Fiorio has some tricks up his sleeve in Stefano Mordini’s Race for Glory (a.k.a. 2Win), produced by Jeremy Thomas, which releases Friday in theaters and on digital.

By 1983, Lancia was questioning their racing commitment and were not willing to match the resources Audi spent on Roland Gumpert’s team, who were consequently considered the clear favorites. Lancia was not even producing a four-wheel drive car. However, the model Fiorio settled on was considerably lighter, which would be a clear advantage during some races, but not others. He was also determined to recruit Walter Rohrl, who was considered far and away the best rally driver not already signed to a team.

Rohrl is rather cagey, eventually agreeing to drive some races, but not others. Fiorio makes that deal, assuming Rohrl will change his mind to pursue the top driver honors of the season. Yet, he makes it clear he meant exactly what he said. Repeatedly, Rohrl pointedly tells Fiorio: “just losers only care about winners.” Easily, this is the best written line of the film.

Indeed, Rohrl’s approach to his sport is indeed the most interesting aspect of Race for Glory. The rest is pretty standard scrappy underdog stuff. Watching Fiorio out-fox the Audi team is reasonably entertaining thanks to Riccardo Scamarcio (the Italian gangster John Wick killed in The Continental), the star, co-writer, and co-producer, who ardently projects the Lancia captain’s passion for racing.

Japan Cuts ’23: The First Slam Dunk

Do you miss the joy of basketball, before the NBA became consumed with the pursuit of money from China? Ryota Miyagi and his teammates do not necessarily like each other, but they play with a pure love for the game. Despite their talent, nobody gives Okinawan students much of a chance against the defending Japanese high school champions, not even their fans, in Takehiko Inoue’s The First Slam Dunk, an animated adaptation of his manga, which screens as the opening night film of the 2023 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

As we see in flashbacks, Miyagi idolized his older brother Sota, who was one of the top basketball prospects in Japan. Tragically, Sota was lost in a boating accident, devastating Ryota. As a tribute to his older brother, Miyagi obsessively pursues his hoop dreams, even though his single mother has her reservations regarding the emotional toll.

Throughout their game against Sannoh, Miyagi keeps flashing back to memories of his brother. He also revisits some of his first encounters with his Shohoku teammates, like their outside shooter, who was once a bully, but Miyagi won him over, by taking his worst beating like a man.

Miyagi is quick, but undersized, so he struggles against Sannoh’s press. Their big man also gets into the head of Shohoku’s center. However, Miyagi’s Zen-like coach has faith and a knack for making the right moves.

It Ain’t Over, the Yogi Berra Doc

Lawrence Joseph "Yogi” Berra probably appeared in more commercials than Michael Jordan or LeBron James, but instead of presenting himself as a secular superhero, the beloved New York Yankee always self-deprecatingly poked fun at his own image. One thing is certain, Berra had more championship rings than either of them—ten in total. Yet, over the years, the “Yogi-isms” overshadowed his exceptional baseball career. Filmmaker Sean Mullin sets the record straight with the help of his granddaughter (and executive producer), Lindsay Berra, who serves as the lead voice in It Ain’t Over, opening tomorrow in theaters.

In addition to the World Series championships, Berra was an 18-time All-Star, a 3-time American League MVP, and he called Don Larsen’s perfect World Series game. However, Berra is largely remembered for the funny things that kind of-sort of make sense, which he may or may not have really said. As his granddaughter and other friends and colleagues run through his accomplishments for the benefit of Mullin and the audience, they make an overwhelming case.

They cover it all, especially including Jackie Robinson safely stealing home on Berra during the World Series, a call the catcher disputed to his dying day. Nevertheless, the film emphasizes Berra was always a voice for tolerance and inclusion in Major League Baseball, particularly during the early days of the league’s racial integration. Appropriately, but somewhat frustratingly for Yankees fans, Berra’s feud with George Steinbrenner and his self-banishment from Yankee Stadium are also covered in length.

Perhaps the most eye-opening segments of It Ain’t Over explore Berra’s relationship with his son Dale, whom he coached while he was the Yankee manager. Dale Berra talks candidly about his addiction issues, which sabotaged his own promising MLB career and the support from his father and family that help him overcome them.

EU Showcase ’22: Kalev

Everyone loved the Lithuanian Men’s Basketball Team, the so-called “Other Dream Team,” who made an Olympic run shortly after the Baltic nation declared its independence from the Soviet Union. However, there were mixed feelings about the Estonian Kalev team’s pursuit of the final championship of Soviet Republics, especially in Estonia. Initially, there were calls to boycott, but those gave way to cheers of “beat Russia.” Of course, the Soviet sports system still tries its best to rig the tournament against Estonia in Ove Musting’s Kalev, Estonia's official International Oscar Submission, which screens during the AFI’s European Union Film Showcase.

Initially, Aivar Kuusmaa has decidedly mixed feelings on the independence movement, because the Soviets rewarded athletes like him for their international victories. Nevertheless, everyone suspects this year could very well be the final Soviet championship. Frankly, public opinion is already against Estonian participation, even before Gorbachev ordered Soviet tanks to invade neighboring Lithuania.

Despite public sentiment, their coach, Jaak Salumets, remained committed to the Soviet Championship. He even recruited a prominent Russian player and George Jackson, the first (and only) American to play in the Soviet League. During his tenure with Kalev, Jackson faced racism from fans and opposing teams, which Musting and co-screenwriters Martin Algus and Mehis Pihla gloss over. However, they fully expose the corruption and favoritism within the Soviet sports authorities. Honestly, the referees and sideline judges might has well have suited up in Russian jerseys.

Musting focuses much of his attention on Kuusmaa, but the most fully fleshed out characters in Kalev are Salumets and Riho Soonik, the team’s general manager (who are portrayed with appropriately complexity, by Mait Malmsten and Priit Voigemast, respectively). Through them, the film really explores the ethical questions the tournament posed, as well as the challenges of maintaining an underfunded Baltic professional team, in a time of great instability. As for the players, they mostly deal with routine sports dramas, like playing through injuries and riding the bench.

A Game of Three Halves, on OVID.tv

The World Cup should have already happened this year, but because FIFA is hopelessly corrupt, they chose the inferno-like Qatar to host this year, during the still scalding hot month of December. To tide football fans over, Matthew Bate & Case Jernigan explore the social significance of the game and the super-fandom it inspires in their animated five-mini-episode A Game of Three Halves, which premieres Wednesday on OVID.tv.

It is surprising how timely this mini-mini-series turns out to be. The second (and best) episode, addresses the Iranian regime policies prohibiting women fans from attending football matches, at a time when Iranians are taking to the streets to protest the suspicious death of Masha Amini. The fourth episode chronicles the cave rescue of the Thai school children’s Wild Boars FC soccer team and how the story captured the attention of the football world, during the 2018 World Cup, a story now familiar from a recent crush of films and documentaries.

Each episode is a mere five minutes in length, give or take, but they are all quite funny and rather perceptive. Journalist Max Rushden amusingly explains the trials and occasional triumphs of amateur weekend football warriors in the opening “Where the F%*ck is Hamish?,” titled in honor of the annoyingly irresponsible player every team has, who always gets away with his flakiness, because he is so good.

“Sara,” written by a real Iranian fan, under the eponymous pseudonym, is the best of the bunch. It forthrightly addresses the misogyny and inconsistency of the regime’s policies, but in a surprisingly light-hearted way that makes it a good companion piece to Jafar Panahi’s Offside.

Jonathan Wilson’s offers some rather clever observations on the neurotic nature of goalies in “Keepers.” It turns out both Nabokov and Camus played in goal, which definitely reinforces his point.

Joel Colby’s “All Hail the Wild Boars” is the shortest of the dozens of recent releases chronicling the Thai cave rescue. Its brevity is part of its charm, but it also has a fresh perspective.

Olga, a Ukrainian Story from Switzerland

After the brutal Russian invasion of Ukraine, we almost forget the thuggishness of Viktor Yanukovych, the deposed president, who aspired to be Putin’s puppet. However, this young gymnast will not forget it anytime soon. Following the attempted assassination of her journalist-mother, she will be forced into exile, for her own protection, in Elie Grappe’s Olga, which opens tomorrow in New York.

Olga’s late father was Swiss, so Olga’s rattled mother arranges for her temporary residence in the neutral nation. Olga also happens to be a very talented gymnast, so the coach of the Swiss junior team is happy to have her. Initially, she is a bit rusty, but she quickly rises to the top of the team. However, she will be distracted by news from Ukraine.

Before she left, her mother complained about the Ukrainian public’s apathy. Then, the Maidan demonstrations start. At first, they give Olga hope, but when Yanukovych unleashes his violent Berkut shock troops, Olga fears for her mother and her friends, who are often present at the protests. She believes she should be there, especially as some of her friends start to resent her absence.

Much like the Latvian film January, Olga incorporates real footage from Maidan Square, alongside the dramatic scenes featuring the titular Ukrainian. For additional authenticity, Olga and her main teammates, both in Ukraine and Switzerland, are portrayed by real-life gymnasts. They have the athletic chops, but they are also pretty good thesps, especially Anastasia Budiashkina, who does excellent work conveying the guilt and confusion of simultaneously dealing with the pressure of competition, teen angst, and national trauma.

Tribeca ’22: McEnroe

If you were around in the early 1980s, you might remember how John McEnroe and Tatum O’Neal were like J-Lo and A-Rod, but with exponentially more paparazzi interest. Their marriage didn’t last, but he always maintained a relationship with tennis. The notoriously outspoken athlete is profiled in Barney Douglas’s documentary McEnroe, which screens during the 2022 Tribeca Film Festival.

Yep, McEnroe used to argue calls on the court from time to time. He addresses his famous outbursts quite frankly in the doc. He is not proud of them, but he explains the issues he was experiencing at the time. He also rarely let them influence the next point.

Watching McEnroe reminds us just how long he has been in the public eye. Children of the 1980s who only vaguely remember the media circus surrounding his marriage to O’Neal will find Douglas’s coverage eye-opening. Fortunately, he also handles the tennis stuff well too. Even if you followed his career at the time, or if you’ve seen Janus Metz’s thoroughly entertaining Borg vs.McEnroe, you will probably get caught up in the drama of McEnroe’s Wimbledon battles with Bjorn Borg.

In a bit of a score, McEnroe’s great rival-turned-friend appears on camera to discuss their comradeship, despite largely retiring from the tennis world and public life. O’Neal is absent, but the rest of his family discusses McEnroe, with pretty much the same candor he brings to the film. (We even see his current wife, Patty Smythe performing on American Bandstand, which is another blast from the 1980’s past.)

The Phantom of the Open, a Different Kind of Cinderella Story

Maurice Flitcroft wanted to be the real-life version of Kevin Costner’s “Tin Cup,” but he just never played the game very well. Nevertheless, his record-setting high-score at the 1976 British Open made him something of a cult hero to frustrated duffers everywhere. After that, the British Open was very much done with Flitcroft, but Flitcroft was not done with them. His unlikely career gets the underdog movie treatment in Craig Roberts’ The Phantom of the Open, which opens this Friday in theaters.

Having always provided for his wife Jean, their twin sons Gene and James, and his older step-son Michael, Maurice is not sure what he wants to do with himself as retirement approaches for the working-class crane operator. Somehow, he gets it into his head golf will be his thing. He has the ugly clothes, but his swing is even uglier.

Naturally, he figures he will enter the British Open, because it looks like a nice tournament on the telly and because he can. That is why it is called an “Open.” It turns out there is a lot less paperwork to enter as a professional rather than an amateur, so that is what he does. Stodgy Keith Mackenzie of the R&A is scandalized by Flitcroft record high score, so he bans him from future tournaments. However, loyal Jean encourages Flitcroft to persevere, so he starts devising ways to enter subsequent Opens under assumed names.

Without question, Phantom is most entertaining when it revels in the subversive farce of Flitcroft’s Open capers. His disguise as French golfer “Gerald Hoppy” is a sequence worthy of Peter Sellars. (It even comes with a Clouseau moustache.) However, Roberts somewhat loses his way, indulging in some painfully maudlin family melodrama during the third act. Flitcroft was born to burst pretensions, rather than be elevated to some kind of tragic hero.

Havana Libre: “Underground” Surfing in Cuba

When your island nation is a prison-like police state, the authorities are not big on water sports. Unfortunately, for Cuba’s surfers, that means their sport is not officially recognized and therefore prohibited. Surfing to Miami would be quite a feat, but apparently the Cuban regime believes they could motivate their people to do it. Regardless, Cuban surfers just want to surf. From handcrafting their own boards to Kafkaesque attempts to petition the government sports agency for recognition, Cubans do their best to develop the sport in Corey McLean’s documentary, Havana Libre, which releases tomorrow on VOD.

Perversely, the currents that make passage to Miami so treacherous, produce some pretty lame waves around Havana. The intrepid band of surfers McLean follows scout around the island’s coastline, looking for better action. Again, quite perversely, the waves around the forbidden no man’s land of Guantanamo look tantalizingly promising.

Still, they manage to sleuth out some passable beaches, where they record videos that go viral. As a result, Frank and his wife get invited to a conference in Hawaii. He even gets a shot at competing in an official Olympics-qualifying tournament. Naturally, INDER, the Cuban sports agency prohibits him from participating, even though the pursuit of Olympic glory is the agency’s top priority.

There is some picturesque footage of Havana and some nice surfing scenes, but Libre was not intended to be another Endless Summer. We also get a keen sense of the crippling poverty brought on by Castro’s socialism and the ruthlessly controlling nature of its government, but this comes through inevitably but almost incidentally. McClean clearly framed the film with INDER and its masters in mind. Throughout the film, he tries to convince them to help the surfers help Cuba. That is all very reasonable and admirable, but viewers need to keep that in mind.

Aulcie: Israel’s First Superstar Athlete

Aulcie Perry was Michael Jordan, before Jordan was anything in sports—but in Israel. Perry nearly joined the New York Knicks, but was cut at the last minute. Instead, he signed with the Maccabi Tel Aviv pro club in Israel, whose 1977 European championship season was the subject of Dani Menkin’s previous documentary, On the Map. Perry was a major contributor to their success. Israel opened its arms to its new superstar, but Perry was not prepared for the temptations that come with fame. Menkin chronicles his rise, fall, and redemption in Aulcie, which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

Perry’s family faced discrimination at its ugliest in the Jim Crow south and he grew up amid economic stagnation and gang violence in Newark, New Jersey. However, he found immediate acceptance in Israel, even though he conspicuously stood out from everyone around him. He literally towered over most Israelis, including his teammate. Then one night, Perry met Israeli supermodel Tami Ben-Ami, who was also quite famous for her long legs—and it was love at first sight, at least for him. He would later convert to Judaism, partly for her and partly because it truly spoke to his spiritual needs. He adopted the name Elisha ben Avraham, but remained widely known as Aulcie.

Unfortunately, Perry left a lot of unfinished business back in America. Later in his career, lingering injuries got him hooked on pain pills, which led to harder stuff. As with other athletes, drugs would be his downfall. Yet, even when he was expelled from the country, Israel still loved him. Actually, Israel was happy to welcome him back, but finally meeting the daughter he never knew would be trickier. In fact, that is the goal that drives Perry during the film’s contemporary scenes.

Aulcie is probably the best sports film of the year, so far (and Menkin’s On the Map is even more rousingly entertaining). It does justice to Perry’s dramatic life story, but it also speaks very directly about what it means to be Israeli. Perry was born an underdog, so it makes sense he found a home in an underdog nation like Israeli. He also had a great, but sadly tragic romance with the late Ben-Ami, who was truly the love of his life and vice versa.

Champion: Don Lee Arm-Wrestles

It takes a brave man to star in an arm-wrestling movie after the face-plant that was Over the Top. Ladies and gentlemen, that man is Don Lee (Ma Dong-seok). He is the one who brawled his way through a train car of zombies in Train to Busan. Believe it or not, his character even references the notorious Sylvester Stallone bomb as his inspiration. Yet, Lee manages to surpass his role model in Kim Yong-wan’s unabashedly earnest family sports drama Champion (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

“Mark” Baek Seung-min is big, but shy. He had a hard time of things during his formative years, so it is understandable. His desperately poor Korean mother gave him up for adoption, but his American foster parents died shortly after his arrival in the States, leaving him essentially on his own. Inspired by Over the Top, arm-wrestling became his only passion, but his professional career was cut short in America by a dubious scandal. His only friend, the sleazy (but possibly decent way deep down) Jin-ki has lured him back to Korea with the promise of managing his professional comeback.

To sweeten the deal, Jin-ki also offers up the address of Baek’s birth-mother, but the arm-wrestler soon learns she has recently passed away from cancer. However, he discovers he has a sister (Su-jin), a niece, and a nephew he never knew of. Suddenly, they have someone to chase away the mobbed-up bill collectors and fix things around the apartment, while Baek finally starts to feel a sense of belonging. Of course, his refusal to throw matches at the behest of a crooked sponsor will probably lead to trouble down the line, especially when the scummy sports bettors recruit Punch, a steroid-juicing, psychotic former contender to be their standard bearer, straight out of prison.

Lee, who was born in Korea, but grew up in America, graduating from Columbia State University, clearly understands where his character is coming from. He is acutely earnest as Baek, but he also looks like he could rip Stallone’s arm off. It is easy to see why he has already reached a significant level of stardom in Korea and is poised to do the same internationally when you see him interacting with Ok Ye-rin and Choi Seung-hoon, the young, ridiculously cute thesps playing his niece and nephew. The fact that he is not dramatically up-staged by them, pretty much says it all.

Lee also shares some nice chemistry with Han Ye-ri’s Su-jin and turns some rewarding third act scenes with Kwon Yool’s heretofore annoying Jin-ki. Unfortunately, Yang Hyun-min and Lee Kyoo-ho make rather generic villains, who really are not very enterprising. Plus, Kim’s screenplay manufactures a lot of bogus drama that starts to try our patience. Yet, we can’t help rooting for Baek and his potential new family, because they all look so good together.

So, to recap, if you need a sensitive hulk, Don Lee is your man. As good old Lincoln Hawk says: “The world meets nobody halfway. When you want something, you gotta take it.” To that end, Lee carries this film and thereby grabs leading man status. Nobody should have any illusions—Champion is shamelessly manipulative and sentimental, but it is an indomitable crowd pleaser—with distinctly Korean sensibilities. Recommended for fans of Don Lee and family-friendly triumph-over-adversity sports movies, Champion opens this Friday (5/18) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

Tribeca ’18: Kaiser, the Greatest Footballer Never to Play Football

They take football seriously in Brazil, maybe even more so than music. That is why the picaresque story of Carlos Enrique Raposo (a.k.a. Carlos “Kaiser”) is so amazing. He was more of con artist than an athlete, who essentially defrauded the bicheiros (numbers-running gangsters) that apparently ran Brazil’s professional club teams. Somehow, he lived to talk about it in Louis Myles’ breezy documentary-romp, Kaiser: The Greatest Footballer Never to Play Football, which screens during the 2018 Tribeca Film Festival.

Rio, with its nightclubs and beaches, was tailor-made for Raposo. He is still recognized when he strolls along their wavy sidewalks, even though he literally never logged a second of professional playing time. When it came to football, the man dubbed “Kaiser” (as in the German Emperor) had terrible skills, but he was always in great shape and bore a convenient resemblance to superstar player Franz Beckenbauer.

Through deceit and chutzpah, Raposo managed to get signed to a thoroughly mobbed-up Corsican pro-team. He easily passed his physical, but then immediately feigned an injury. Despite his lack of productivity, Kaiser managed to maintain his contract by cozying up to one of the team’s most-connected executives. Eventually, he was cut, but he was able to repeat the cycle, because he had a stint with a pro team on his resume. The more teams he did not play for, the more legit he looked on paper. However, things started getting dicey when “Dr.” Castor de Andrade, the notorious bicheiro patron of the Bangu club finally ran out of patience.

Raposo’s story is a lot like that of Frank Abignale, Jr. in Catch Me If You Can, but it is more hedonistic and has better music. Clearly, Kaiser managed to hang on as long as he did, at so many clubs, because he could always start a party. Even Beckenbauer found himself vicariously indulging through his roguish pseudo-impostor.

Kaiser is mostly a great deal of naughty fun laced with episodes of head-shaking audacity, but it eventually gets serious in the third act. Alas, Raposo could not avoid real life indefinitely, but he has had a heck of a ride. Frankly, the film has the vibe of a guilty pleasure, but it also serves as quite a bold expose of the rough & tumble Brazilian football world in the 1980s and 1990s. Raposo never hurt a fly, which is why most of his “teammates” still have a great deal of affection for him (he also brought a lot of women around). On the other hand, the bicheiros were seriously bad cats.

Kaiser goes down as smooth as an ice coffee on an Ipanema beach. Myles keeps the pace at a brisk gallop and the diverse Brazilian soundtrack puts viewers in an after-hours-party frame-of-mind. He also scores some dishy and droll interviews with the survivors of the eighties and nineties Brazilian football scene. Even if you do not follow international football, you will be hard pressed to find a more entertaining documentary. Highly recommended for anyone who appreciates Brazilian culture or a good con, Kaiser: The Greatest Footballer Never to Play Football screens again today (4/22), tomorrow (4/23) and Saturday (4/28), as part of this year’s Tribeca.

Borg vs. McEnroe

Even tennis was better in the eighties, but as was often the case, we just didn’t appreciate it at the time. Frankly, many sports fans were rather embarrassed by John McEnroe’s slightly argumentative demeanor on the court, but once he resigned from the tour, everyone started to miss his passion for the game. In contrast, Bjorn Borg was the perfect model of a gentleman tennis champion, but he did not have a catch-phrase, so it is harder to remember him. Fortunately, we can now relive their defining meeting at the 1980 Wimbledon finals in Janus Metz’s Borg vs. McEnroe (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Borg had already won four Wimbledon titles. A record setting fifth would guarantee his place in tennis Valhalla, but that also raised the media’s expectations to a fever pitch. McEnroe was the second-ranked player behind Borg and widely acknowledged as the only real threat to five-peat. However, he was also known for expressing his disappoint from time to time when a line judge called a ball in a manner McEnroe disagreed with. The other players also thought he was a jerk. As a result, just about everyone in the stadium was rooting against McEnroe, except his father.

In some ways, Metz and screenwriter Ronnie Sandahl cast Borg and McEnroe as a perfectly matched pair of personality hang-ups, with the sullen and neurotic Borg on one side of the net and the obnoxious and immature McEnroe on the other. Yet, they still manage to make the film highly compelling and consistently fun. Although it is not as sly and subversive as I,Tonya, B vs. M still bears many similarities in the way it seamlessly recreates an era and then forces viewers to re-examine our assumptions and biases from those times. One thing comes through clearly, McEnroe might have been many things, but he cared about the game and always gave it his all.

There is no question Sverrir Gudnason is a spooky dead-ringer for Borg, but he is such an angsty cold fish, his long-suffering coach Lennart Bergelin becomes our primary POV figure in the Team Borg scenes. Not surprisingly, the eternally reliable Stellan Skarsgård becomes the film’s rock of dignity as Bergelin. However, the real surprise is how far Shia LaBeouf finally comes into his own as McEnroe. Although there is not a lot of natural resemblance between the actor and the mercurial athlete, LaBeouf so completely nails the mannerisms and persona, he just starts to look like McEnroe in our mind’s eye.

Metz also deserves credit for maintaining the suspense and drama of their 1980 finals match-up. Obviously, it had to be a barnburner, or nobody would have bothered making this movie (just like there will never be a film about the Yankees 4-0 victory over the Padres in the 1998 World Series, even though it was a lot of fun to watch at the time). Yet, Metz really stages it with cinematic flair.

Even if you are not a tennis fan, B vs. M still holds plenty of entertainment value as a carefully crafted time capsule from 1980. Needless to say, it is vastly superior to the 2004 rom-com Wimbledon (which, for what its worth, is actually not terrible). Highly recommended, Borg vs. McEnroe opens this Friday (4/13) in New York, at the IFC Center.

Goon: Last of the Enforcers

Marvel perversely decided to make Captain America a fascist double-agent and Warner Brothers will probably turn Superman evil in the Justice League movie everyone is dreading, but Doug “the Thug” Glatt is the same likable lug he always was. He is the nicest guy, but the only talent he ever had was for fighting. Yet, Glatt was able to use his gifts for good rather than evil in hockey’s minor leagues. He still has a passion for the game, but his aging body is not so reliable in Jay Baruchel’s Goon: Last of the Enforcers (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

After several playoff-less years with your Halifax Highlanders, Glatt is finally rewarded with the captain’s “C.” Unfortunately, he will not have long to enjoy it. Glatt will be hospitalized by the mentally unstable Anders Cain, who could be a huge star if he could just control his temper. He also happens to be the son of the Highlanders’ new owner, former NHL all-everything Hyrum Cain. Since his enforcer has been forced to accept retirement, Cain brings in his son to replace Glatt’s muscle. Not surprisingly, Glatt’s teammates bitterly resent his presence.

It doesn’t sit well with Glatt either. Despite his promising his wife Eva he will settle down and plug away at his office job, Glatt yearns to return to hockey. Just like in Rocky III, Glatt’s old nemesis Ross “The Boss” Rhea steps up to train him for his big comeback. Rhea likes to think he can still throw down, but he has been reduced to scuffling in a hockey-themed club fighting showcase. Glatt has better options available than the battle royale on ice, but his loyalties to his wife and his team pull him in diametrically opposite directions.

The original Goon was the little movie that came out of nowhere to hold its own with beloved sports comedies like Slap Shot, Bad News Bears, and Kingpin. Sure, it had its share of rude humor and bruising hockey fighting, but Glatt always had a good heart and absolutely no cynicism whatsoever. Baruchel, who co-wrote and co-starred in the original clearly understood his appeal and wisely keeps Doug the Thug’s persona honest and guileless.

In fact, the follow-up is rather clever, in that it recognizes the similar potential pitfalls that face both film sequels and sports comebacks. As Glatt labors to overcome injuries and setbacks, Baruchel wrestles with sports movie clichés, but they both have the same solution: let Glatt be Glatt. Indeed, what makes the film surprisingly compelling a second time around is the ways he must struggle to balance his faithfulness to both his family and his team.

Forget Stiffler. Doug Glatt is the role that will define Seann William Scott. It is easy to get distracted by the flying fists, but his portrayal of the socially awkward Glatt is quite sensitive and complex. He is simply a great movie underdog. Even though she gets less screen-time in Enforcers, Scott still maintains his down-to-earth comedic and romantic chemistry with Alison Pill’s Eva.

However, the big surprise is Wyatt Russell as the volatile Anders Cain. Russell is a former professional hockey player and the son of Kurt Russell, so he could maybe relate to the troubled Cain in more than one way. He is certainly brutish, but he also humanizes Cain, conveying his persistent father issues and acute need for approval. In an added bonus, he even delivers some wryly funny lines. Yet, it is tough for anyone to beat the film’s ace in the hole: Liev Schrieber reprising the role of bad to the bone, but past his prime Ross Rhea.

There are a lot of laughs in Last of the Enforcers, but it still addresses issues facing aging athletes, like post-concussion syndrome, with the seriousness they demand. Baruchel probably lets the fights get a little too bloody, but perhaps there is some method to his excess. Regardless, Glatt and the Halifax Highlanders still have their scrappy, longshot mojo working. Affectionately recommended for fans of sports comedies and underdogs who make good, Goon: Last of the Enforcers opens this Friday (9/1) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

Spirit Game: Pride of a Nation

Everyone readily concedes the game of lacrosse was invented by the Haudenosaunee, also referred to as the Iroquois and Six Nations. However, it seems like Canadians will go out of their way to take credit for indoor “box lacrosse.” It’s the same basic rules and equipment, but with a roof. Wow, how did they ever come up with that? Not surprisingly, the Iroquois (as their jerseys self-identify) and Canadian national teams are natural rivals in World Indoor Lacrosse Championship (WLIC) competitions. Peter Spirer and Peter Baxter chronicle the development of the Iroquois national team and their bid for glory at the 2015 WLIC tournament in Spirit Game: Pride of a Nation (trailer here), which opens this Friday in Los Angeles.

Iroquois homes throughout Upstate New York and Ontario are just like their neighbors, except there very well might be a lacrosse goal in the backyard. The game has always been a source of national pride, so it is not surprising the Iroquois are disproportionately represented among professional lacrosse players. Still, when WLIC decided to recognize the Iroquois national team, it was obviously a hugely significant decision.

It was also a big deal when the Haudenosaunee hosted the 2015 tourney (at the Syracuse stadium). Unfortunately, the Iroquois missed the previous championship, because the UK refused to recognize their tribal passports and the Iroquois refused to travel under official U.S. documents. When acting as hosts, they made it clear they hoped each team would go through the ceremony of having their passports stamped at the tribal offices. We’re pleased to report the American and Israeli teams were happy to oblige, with the proper spirit. In fact, the only team to snub the passport ritual was Team Canada.

Lacrosse is a fast-paced, action-packed game, but it does not get a heck of a lot of sports media attention, so it is fascinating to watch a behind-the-scenes peak into tournament play, especially from the underdog perspective of the Iroquois. Although scrupulously multicultural in their approach, Spirer and Baxter mostly take a straight-forward reportorial approach, with one notable exception. They really, really seem to dislike Dean French, the arrogant chairman of the Canadian national team, because they do their best to make him look like a fool and a blowhard. Towards that end, they get no shortage of assistance from Dean French, the tone-deaf chairman of the Canadian national team.

Arguably, the film veers a little too far out of bounds when it focused on attempts of Haudenosaunee leaders to start a dialogue with Pope Francis of the “Doctrine of Discovery” during his visit to America. Not surprisingly, Spirit Game is much more effective as a sports doc than as another piece of advocacy journalism. Recommended for sports fans of all WLIC member nations, except Canada, Spirit Game: Pride of a Nation opens this Friday (5/26) in Los Angeles, at the Arena Cinelounge Sunset (with its iTunes release set for 6/20).

Tribeca ’17: Year of the Scab

The Washington Redskins and Dallas Cowboys are a lot like the NFL’s version of Yankees and Red Sox. Their games always have divisional standing implications on top of the decades of bad blood players seem to immediately inherit. During the 1987 football strike, the match-up between a Washington team made up entirely of free agent replacement players (scabs) and nearly the entire regular season Dallas squad would seem to favor the latter. However, the scrappy team that won over Washington fans always played to win. Their underappreciated underdog story is chronicled in John Dorsey’s ESPN 30 for 30 documentary Year of the Scab, which premiered last night at the 2017 Tribeca Film Festival.

Both Washington and Dallas were proactive planning for the strike, but the approaches differed drastically. While the Redskins cast a wide net for replacement players, Dallas sought to game the system, by using the loss of potentially millions of dollars in future contractual annuity payments to force their star players to cross the picket lines. Yet, thanks to their drive and the leadership of Coach Joe Gibbs, the Redskin replacement players excelled in their first two games (both of which were also in their division). That set the stage for a showdown worthy of Rocky when the Redskins blew into Dallas for their first grudge match of the season.

The Replacement Redskins are widely credited with starting the winning momentum that carried the team all the way to a Super Bowl victory, but they have been largely ignored by sports media, most likely for ideological reasons. That is a shame, because each player’s story has so much to say about the nature of sportsmanship, particularly that of disgraced former Tennessee Vols star quarterback Tony Robinson, who is now a respected small businessman and peewee football coach.

Dorsey introduces viewers to at least half a dozen replacement players, on a very personal level. Some are struggling with the long-term physical effects of their football years, just like drafted full-season players. He scored sit-downs with many of the Redskins players and staff, including Gibbs, Robinson, strike game starting QB Ed Rubbert, and Super Bowl MVP Doug Williams. However, Dorsey is explicitly (and justifiably) critical of the Redskins’ treatment of their replacement players after the strike games, especially considering how much they contributed to the championship season and the extent to which the fans embraced them.

Year of the Scab is the sort of film that invites you to revisit memorable events of your lifetime from a completely different perspective. It boasts a number of very funny anecdotes, but the tone is always deeply bittersweet. These players took the longest of long shots for gridiron glory, not for money or fame, but simply out of a love for the game. It is a terrific sports doc and another fine example of the 30 for 30 program. Highly recommended, Year of the Scab screens again tonight (4/28), Saturday (4/29), and Sunday (4/30), as part of this year’s Tribeca Film Festival.

On the Map: The Miracle on Hardwood

1972 was the worst year ever for international sports. During the notorious Munich Olympics, eleven members of the Israeli delegation were killed by Black September, a terrorist organization later revealed to be under the control of the Fatah wing of the PLO. At the same Munich Games, the final seconds of the Men’s Basketball Gold Medal match were rigged to allow the Soviets to eke out a one-point victory. In contrast, 1977 was a great year for international sports, for reasons also involving Israeli and Soviet athletes. Dani Menkin chronicles Israel’s unlikely championship run in the 1977 European Basketball Championship and analyzes its historic legacy in On the Map (trailer here), which opens this week in Los Angeles (and early December in New York).

Maccabi Tel Aviv was a scruffy club with a fraction of the resources of their European counterparts. However, they scored a coup when they lured highly touted NBA prospect Tal Brody away from the Baltimore Bullets. His storied career would be interrupted by stints of military service for both the U.S. and Israel, but in 1977, he still had the skills and prestige to attract the kind of local talent and just-missed-the-NBA American players Maccabi needed to compete with the Europeans.

Obviously, Maccabi did well in 1977, because nobody would make a documentary about a mediocre season. Many players and commentators compare their European championship drive to U.S. Hockey’s “Miracle on Ice,” which is particularly apt considering both teams had to win emotionally-draining, symbolically-charged victories over the Soviets just to reach the championship matches, but neither story ended there.

Menkin assembled all the surviving Maccabi players, including Brody, to re-watch their celebrated games. They clearly enjoy each other’s company and the sense of fun is contagious. It is also quite moving to hear from the widow of Jim Boatwright, Maccabi’s leading scorer. Maccabi center Aulcie Perry is also an engaging screen presence, but Menkin really does him a solid by omitting mention of his subsequent issues with drugs and crime. For extra added attitude, Menkin gets some characteristically colorful color commentary from Bill Walton, who sounds like an old school Cold Warrior when discussing the Soviet team.

Maccabi’s 1977 season is a great story just in terms of scrappy underdogs overcoming adversity. It is indeed a David versus Goliath story set in the nation of King David. However, it takes on far greater significance when considered in the context of 1970s Israel, particularly with respect to the Soviet boycott, the lingering pain of the Yom Kippur War and the Munich Massacre, and the resurgence of national pride following the Entebbe Raid. In an era when FIFA and the IOC have become synonymous with corruption, it is refreshing to revisit a time when athletes like Maccabi Tel Aviv could unite and inspire their country. Very highly recommended, On the Map opens this Friday (11/25) in Los Angles at the Laemmle Royale and two weeks later (12/9) at the Cinema Village in New York.

Pele: Before the New York Cosmos

Pelé was the Derek Jeter of the mid-1970’s. He was the biggest sports star in New York, playing for the top team in the league. Having the resources and willingness to sign the best players in the world (exactly like Pelé), the New York Cosmos were the most popular American professional soccer team, arguably to this day (but the rest of the NASL league did not fare so well). However, nobody was showering money on young Edson “Dico” Arantes do Nascimento during his formative years in Jeff & Michael Zimbalist’s Pelé: Birth of a Legend (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Dico and his siblings are growing up cash-poor, but rich in spirit. Naturally, Nascimento and his street urchin friends love nothing more than playing through the streets and back alleys of Três Corações, much to the chagrin of his protective mother. She has had enough of football ever since her husband Dondinho’s career was cut short by a freak accident. Apparently, he stepped in a bear trap accidentally left on the field or something equally painful. In fact, the physical damage was not nearly as debilitating as the blow to his confidence. Recognizing his son’s talents, the elder Nascimento secretly trains him in the exuberant Brazilian “Ginga” style, in between cleaning toilets at the city hospital.

Eventually, Nascimento will stand up to Jose Altofini, the local wealthy, wannabe Aryan bully on the field and start to make a name for himself. Sure enough, teenage “Pelé,” as Altofini dubbed him is duly signed by the Três Corações farm team, playing his way up to the pro squad and the national team. However, “Ginga” is a dirty word for coach Vicente Feola, who blames the improvisational style of play for Brazil’s ignominious showings in the 1950 and 1954 World Cups. He therefore insists they play a slow, rigid, Euro style of play, leading to considerable strife within the team.

It is rather surprising the Zimbalist documentarian brothers, who previously helmed The Two Escobars, would take such a predictable, TV movie approach to Pelé. Forget subtlety. The poverty is never too grinding for them, nor can the Europeans ever be snobby enough. Swedish national coach George Raynor, as played with hissy contempt by Colm Meaney, represents an especially over-the-top caricature. It is hard to believe anyone would prattle on about breeding and racial purity at a press conference (especially considering how doggedly post-war Sweden was trying to sweep its WWII collaboration under the rug).

By far, the best thing going for Birth of a Legend is MPB recording star Seu Jorge, who soulfully anchors the film as Dondinho. Frankly, neither teenage Kevin de Paula Rosa or adolescent Leonardo Lima Carvalho have a fraction of his charisma, but they seem to have game. In fact, the Zimbalist Brothers rather perversely cast Nascimento as a brooding, joyless kid, who really is not much fun to hang with.

Equally strange, accomplished Bollywood composer A.R. Rahman was hired to score the film, because apparently producer Brian Grazer did not realize they have a bit of a musical tradition in Brazil. Rahman does his best to incorporate Brazilian elements, but this is definitely not his most memorable work. At least the Brothers Zimbalist do their best to keep it zipping along. Serviceable but kind of dull, Pelé opens this Friday (5/13) at the IFC Center, but his New York fans should revisit him and Sylvester Stallone in John Huston’s Victory instead.

The Program: Lance Armstrong Lies, Cheats, and Dopes his Way to the Top

From 1986 to 1998 Greg LeMond was the only American to have won the Tour de France. He became the only American Tour winner once more in 2012 when Lance Armstrong and Floyd Landis were stripped of their victories. For years, Armstrong’s lies and intimidation had covered up his extensive use of performance enhancing drugs (with the timely help of Britain’s stifling libel laws), but the truth eventually came out. Armstrong’s crimes and hypocrisy are portrayed with scathing honesty and dramatic gusto in Stephen Frears’ The Program (trailer here), which opens this Friday in select cities.

Notorious sports doctor Michele Ferrari initially declined to work with Armstrong because he has the wrong body type. Ironically, cancer would re-shape the cyclist to fit Ferrari’s mold. However, Armstrong had already been self-administering EPO before the onset of his illness (this point would have tremendous legal ramifications later). Of course, when the aptly named Ferrari started secretly advising Armstrong’s U.S. Postal Service team, the doping became more sophisticated and systemic. Everyone on the team was implicated, most definitely including their team director Johan Bruyneel. Yet, there is no question Armstrong was the architect and the chief enforcer.

John Hodge’s screenplay, based on the book and reporting of Irish sports journalist David Walsh pulls no punches. It makes it clear just how suspicious Armstrong sudden power was given his past performance, as well as the determination of the Cycling Union and the press corps to ignore all the tell-tale signs. There is no question Walsh is the hero of this story and Armstrong is the villain, but the ways in which the disgraced champion tried to isolate and bully his journalist critic into silence are still pretty galling. The film treatment is not quite as damning as Alex Holmes’ expose, Lance Armstrong: Stop at Nothing, but it is not due to a lack of trying.

Ben Foster is a jolly good physical likeness of Armstrong, but the way he relishes the cyclist’s Machiavellian treachery is a perverse joy to behold. You can practically see him twisting a phantom handlebar moustache (presumably, a real one would increase wind resistance). However, he still manages to pull off humanizing moments, as when Armstrong visits frightfully young and understandably frightened cancer patients.

Guillaume Canet perfectly complements Foster’s sociopathic Armstrong, oozing Euro sleaze as the serpent-like Ferrari. Chris O’Dowd also brings real heft and dimension to the principled Walsh. Although his screen time is limited, Dustin Hoffman gives the film a major energy boost as Armstrong’s legal nemesis, Bob Hamman. While he broods dourly enough as Landis, the sweaty and hulking Jesse Plemons does not look like much of a cyclist.

First and foremost, The Program will convince any holdouts in the audience Armstrong really was and still is a lying-dog cheater. It might also lead some of our British friends to conclude their overly restrictive libel laws are not consistent with a free press. When an unethical charlatan like Armstrong can use it to choke off a legitimate inquiry into wrongdoing, something is badly amiss. Regardless, Frears and Foster create a wickedly entertaining portrait of an epic egomaniac and the wreckage he left in his wake. It is not exactly subtle, but it is massively watchable. Recommended for fans of in-your-face, ripped-from-the-headlines drama, The Program opens this Friday (3/18) in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Town Center.

To the Fore: Dante Lam Hits the Track

Probably no sport has had a rougher decade than pro-cycling. With most of its recent champions disgraced by doping scandals, there should at least be opportunities for young emerging cyclists. Unfortunately, three former teammates cannot all be champions. However, the sport itself should definitely benefit from the treatment it gets from Hong Kong action auteur Dante Lam in To the Fore (trailer here), which Magnum Films just released in New York.

Chiu Ming has power. Qiu Tian is a plugger who can climb. Together they are perfectly matched “lead-outs” who should be able to guide the Taiwanese Team Radiant’s star Korean sprinter Ji-won to victory. Unfortunately, just when they start gelling as a team, their sponsor leaves their owner-manager high and dry. Suddenly free agents, they each sign on as sprinters for competing teams. Ji-won is already on the verge of advancing to next professional class, but Qiu is physically unsuited to his new role, while Chiu has trouble controlling his emotions. In between some spectacularly cinematic races, Chiu and Qiu will also compete for the affections of Shiyao, a Mainland indoor track racer recovering from a pulmonary embolism.

If you enjoy cycling, Lam brings the goods with authority. Although there is no fighting per se, his action chops still serve the racing sequences remarkably well. Lam makes it easy to follow the team strategy as it unfolds, while cinematographer Pakie Chan captures the in-race events with remarkable clarity. Lam and co-screenwriter Silver Lam Fung also shrewdly vary the competitions, making their way through the streets of Kaohsiung City, the Italian Alps, a mobbed-up betting track in Busan, and the Tengger Desert. Naturally, each course has its particular challenges.

Somehow, Lam and company manage to steer clear of most of the moldiest sports movies clichés. The interpersonal stuff is still fairly workaday stuff, but Wang Luodan elevates the material as the reserved but engaging Shiyao. Eddie Peng does his cocky Taiwanese Tom Cruise thing as Chiu, but it fits the part. Choi Si-won has the least room to stretch as Ji-won, the Iceman to Peng’s Maverick, but he certainly has the appropriately cool look. However, Shawn Dou manages to scrape out a rather impressive character development arc as Qiu.

Regardless, To the Fore is really all about the cycling. Despite the potential repetitiveness, Lam keeps the energy level cranked up and establishes meaningful stakes for each and every race. It is a great looking film that fully capitalizes on its diverse panoramic locales. Recommended for fans of cycling and sports films in general, To the Fore is now playing in New York at the AMC Empire.