Sports (pt. V)

Breaking Away

Stick It

Howdy and heads up, team, because this week we’re watching another round of sports movies. I know awards season is already underway, world war three once again feels imminent, and Timothée Chalamet just hard-launched his K*rdashian kompanion while accepting his first Critic’s Choice Award, but please allow me to ease into this already chaotic cinematic year with a double feature from one of my most unexpectedly-enjoyable genres. My first sports double feature was born out of a desire to bond with my dad on his birthday, as I’m always desperate to make connections, even when the topic is as uninteresting as sports. The magic of a sports movie, though, is that it takes out all of the boring, tedious, time-consuming gameplay, and boils it down to the highest stakes and the juiciest, off-the-court action. While watching sports movies typically isn’t my first choice, I have been legitimately, shockingly blown away by many of them. Sports movies are already working in a deficit, okay? I’m automatically gonna have a shorter attention span and a strained interest in the overly-competitive, overwhelmingly-earnest, often-preachy material, so it’s all the more impressive when sports cinema can hook me in and keep me engrossed. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by every single sports movie I’ve watched for this blog, particularly last year’s viewing of the mystical sports ghost story Field of Dreams and the sexy and hilarious poly-curious film Bull Durham—which has quickly become my favorite sexy sports movie, next to Challengers. And with the swift and exciting success of the Canadian queer hockey tv show Heated Rivalry, it’s clear that the people want their sports served hot, and with as little actual sports-playing as possible. Every bit of sports cinema I’ve consumed thus far has proven that, despite the unending, sleep-inducing commentary and podcasts and discourse surrounding sports, an athletic arena can be the ideal backdrop for compelling and memorable storytelling—and tonight’s two sporty selections were no different.

Let’s begin with one of my dad’s favorite movies of all time, one that inspired one of the only pieces of non-football-related merch I’ve ever seen him sport (so to speak), this is Peter Yates’ 1979 film Breaking Away. This film also could’ve been titled “Twink Death”, as every member of its cast is at their youngest, skinniest, and twinkiest—and in the blink of an eye these twinks became men—but my sister also refers to this film as “what if The Outsiders had parents?” Breaking Away follows four close friends—Dave (Dennis Christopher), Mike (Dennis Quaid), Cyril (Daniel Stern), and Moocher (Jackie Earle Haley)—who are proud townies of the college town of Bloomington, Indiana living their best, unemployed, sun-soaked lives. These four hooligans just turned 19, with no definite plans to go to college, get a job, or see the world outside of their small, rural town. Most days, this group of buddies just talk shit, sunbathe, and swim at their local abandoned limestone quarry, until a group of college douchebags encroach on their spot. The college kids refer to the townies as “cutters”—a derogative term referring to the locals’ common work in the limestone industry (Fun fact: this term was invented for the film because the real-world pejorative “stonies” was deemed unusable for the potential link to marijuana)—and the tension in this turf war is palpable. Mike, Cyril, and Moocher have no detectable plans or ambition, though Moocher randomly does get married to his girlfriend, but Dave has recently developed an insatiable passion for (specifically Italian) competitive bicycle racing. He has cycling posters all over his room, says “Buongiorno” everywhere he goes, and rides his thin but powerful Masi bike with effortless speed. Dave’s down-to-earth, former stone-cutter father (Paul Dooley) is perplexed and even a bit disturbed by his son’s sudden devotion to European cosplay—particularly the part that involves shaving his legs—but Dave’s mother (Barbara Barrie) notes how it’s given him drive and joy and, according to Dave, Italian families stay together. The existential dread surrounding “the future” hanging over our protagonist’s respective and collective heads is nothing compared to the dread they feel when the pretentious college kids continue to pester and provoke them, and when an opportunity to beat them in a competition arises, they jump at the chance. The rivalry between the cutters and the college coeds reaches a fever pitch when Dave begins serenading and pursuing the girlfriend of Rod (Hart Bochner), the top jock on campus, but thankfully, there is a bike race where the cutters can finally claim their well-deserved, working class victory. Though the townies and the cutters have never really gotten along, there’s something different about this generation’s boy beef, and Dave, Mike, Cyril, and Moocher are determined to do something different, even though, as Mike laments later on, “I thought the whole plan was we were gonna waste the rest of our lives together.” One of my favorite coming-of-age movie sweet spots is post-grad malaise, and Breaking Away portrayed this specific, significant woe with empathy, humor, and a lived-in sense of cynicism, that still maintains some optimism. It’s a low-budget hang-out movie with mostly (at the time) unknown actors, ala Richard Linklater or Jim Jarmusch, but with all of the sentimentality and energy of a full-fledged, big-budget, big-name sports adventure. I love an underdog story, I love a story surrounding lovable shitheads, and I really love when a sports movie can keep me invested, just as Breaking Away was able to. The writing perfectly captured the hopeless, youthful uncertainty that marks the end of one’s teenage years, and the complex relationship between townies and college kids—and as a former college kid who befriended way more townies than college peers during undergrad, I can really appreciate the intricacies of this dynamic. Breaking Away was nominated for several Academy Awards, including Best Picture, but I think it’s immensely cool that a small, special little movie like this won Best Screenplay.

It was fun to watch a film that is so nostalgic and special to my dad, with my dad, but tonight’s next film was far more nostalgic to my childhood—though I never came close to participating in its particular sport—this is Jessica Bendinger’s 2006 gymnastics classic Stick It. Jessica Bendinger wrote Bring It On, The Wedding Date, Aquamarine, and several episodes of Sex and the City, so I had a feeling I would like this movie, but when its graffiti-style opening credits featured a Missy Elliot song, I was officially sold. Stick It opens on three wild, hoodie-clad teens doing bike tricks through a residential construction site in Plano, Texas. When a gang of sk8er bois shows up uninvited to the unfinished pool they’ve claimed as their own, all the bros start showing off their tricks, with destructive results. When the alarm of this almost-complete house is triggered, the teens all disperse, and in the process it is revealed that one of these tough street kids is—GASP—a girl! We are then properly introduced to rebellious 17-year-old Haley Graham (Missy Peregrym), who has caused $14,000 in property damage and is given a choice: attend military school or one of the most intense professional gymnastic programs in the country. This would (and, in fact, does) seem random, but as we soon learn from the many trophies on her desk and her bitter attitude toward pep, Haley was once a very talented gymnast. A year earlier, Haley made it to the World Gymnastics Championships, but she walked out just before her final floor-routine; costing the American team the gold medal, effectively ruining her reputation and her friendships in this world. Since then, she’s sworn off gymnastics, trading in her leotards for baggy jeans and Ramones t-shirts, but that’s all about to change. Though she chooses military school, Haley is shipped off to VGA—the Vickerman Gymnastics Academy—an elite, cutthroat gymnastics school run by Burt Vickerman (Jeff Bridges), who has little patience for Haley’s bad attitude. It’s as if Haley is averse to her own talents, which, even a year out of practice, are still fairly intact. But Burt is determined to put Haley to work, and to mold her back into a gold medal-worthy gymnast. Not only does Haley spar with her gruff but well-intentioned coach, she doesn’t really get along with any of the other gymnasts, especially Joanne (Vanessa Lengies), who has some of the best, bitchy lines in the film (including calling Haley, “Pariah Carey” and saying “It’s not called ‘gymNICEtics.’”) In Haley’s defense, her issue lies with the cult of obedience surrounding gymnastics, not the sport itself. She can’t stand the perfectionism, the stupidly-dangerous stunts, and forced cheerfulness that still isn’t enough for the impossible-to-impress judges. I love a sports film that can effectively showcase the pros and cons of said sport, and Stick It accomplished this in a very elegant, effortless way. Haley’s frustration with gymnastics is just as understandable as her passion for it, and I’m glad this film didn’t shy away from displaying the ugly parts of this sport. It may not have covered every facet of the highs and lows of gymnastics, but I certainly didn’t expect there to be such a salient commentary on how class is a major determining factor in what kind of sports one gets to participate in. In addition to the script being more layered and intelligent than anticipated, the editing and cinematography of this movie was randomly breathtaking. Between the clever ways the camera moved and made it seem like each actor (and not their professional doubles) was really flipping in the air, and the hypnotic, kaleidoscopic ways in which the synchronized choreography was captured, the visuals in this film are rather phenomenal. In general, like the majority of writer-director Jessica Bendinger’s work, I loved how this specifically feminine story was told with depth and sincerity, and didn’t waste time with any silly, frivolous, CW-esque drama. The only thing that is silly and hard to believe in this film, is the fact that we’re meant to think Haley is out of shape when Missy Peregrym has the most rock-hard abs I’ve ever seen in my entire life. (I was also under the impression that Stick It is an explicitly queer film, but it turns out that every queer woman was/is just extremely attracted to Missy Peregrym in this—which is valid!) The film also stars Jon Gries, Gia Carides, Julie Warner, Polly Holliday, Nikki Soohoo, John Kapelos, and Kellan Lutz, and includes an incredibly hard soundtrack that features Green Day, Fall Out Boy, Talib Kweli, Blink-182, and a handful of mid-2000s one-hit-wonders. I was shocked to learn that Bring It On garnered more favorable reviews and fans overall, because Stick It is not only a superior film in terms of story, it’s funnier, it’s aged better, and there are immense amounts of significant girl power—something that felt forcibly inserted at the very end of Bring It On, but I digress. Both of tonight’s films were my exact kind of sports stories: the sneaky kind that are about far more than just athleticism and arbitrary rules and obvious lessons. Well, team, that’s about all the time I’ve got this week, but thanks for playing along with me. Win, lose, or draw, y’all make me feel like a winner. Happy birthday, dad!