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AMERICAN UNDERDOG Directors: Andrew Erwin, Jon Erwin Cast: Zachary Levi, Anna Paquin, Dennis Quaid, Chance Kelly, Cindy Hogan, Ser'Darius Blain, Adam Baldwin, Bruce McGill, Danny Vinson, Hayden Zaller, Cora Kate Wilkerson, O.J. Keith Simpson, Nic Harris MPAA Rating: (for some language and thematic elements) Running Time: 1:52 Release Date: 12/25/21 |
Follow on Facebook | Follow on Twitter | Become a Patron Review by Mark Dujsik | December 23, 2021 Most wouldn't consider 28 to be old by any objective standard or stretch of the imagination, but a few exceptions, perhaps, do exist, especially from a subjective perspective. A kid dreaming of fame and success, for example, probably can't comprehend the idea of waiting decades to achieve that goal. That's particularly true in another example, if, say, said kid wants to become a professional athlete. Both are the case for the protagonist of American Underdog, who imagines himself becoming a professional quarterback and ends up accomplishing that dream at the age of 28—around the time most players of the sport are moving toward retirement. The story belongs to Kurt Warner, who had to do a lot of waiting and go through a lot of disappointment before a professional team would even think of taking his dream seriously. The odds are against him—and, indeed, anyone who wants to become a professional footballer—from the start. Most high school players don't even get to play college football and an even smaller percentage of those end up being drafted into the league. This kind of dream is, according to the film's version of Warner, essentially impossible. The screenplay by David Aaron Cohen, Jon Gunn, and co-director Jon Erwin (based on Warner and Michael Silver's book All Things Possible) doesn't do anything new with its subject's story, which is inevitably an inspirational tale of unlikely success (Nobody would have made a movie about a real-life person who dreams big and ends up living an ordinary life). Everyone knows the end point of this story, even if a person knows nothing about Warner or football. It isn't the ending or, for the most part, even the sport that matters to the filmmakers, though. There isn't much football in this film, which is a bit of a surprise (although, when there are sequences of the sport, they're fairly entertaining and staged with some verve). If the real Warner hadn't become a professional quarterback, his story still might have been engaging. Indeed, his ultimate accomplishment here is less a defining feature of Warner's life and more the cherry on top of pretty decent, if occasionally difficult (mostly because of the dream), life up until that point. We get a sense of the man beneath the helmet and underneath the uniform, as well as the ways in which he finds fulfillment outside of a stadium filled with cheering fans. That makes all the difference in this film, helmed by the aforementioned co-director and his brother Andrew Erwin. The Erwins aren't above the idea of turning this true-life story into a generally feel-good tale of formula and cliché. They also aren't below the concept that these characters, their everyday struggles, and the difficulties of maintaining loving relationships in the midst of those hardships can be the source of some actual drama. The filmmakers find a happy medium—giving us exactly what we expect from the material in the broad strokes, while making the smaller details matter more in every moment. Warner is played by Zachary Levi, who has a more than a decade on the man he's portraying at the end of this story (not to mention the fact the actor plays the guy from a college senior on), but that hardly matters, given Levi's youthful energy and aw-shucks sincerity (The age difference makes the whole story feel like a bigger accomplishment, which is a bit dishonest, if the truth really matters in a movie like this). As a kid, he dreams of becoming a professional quarterback, but in his last year of college, Kurt has spent most of his time riding the bench. A few big games and impressive plays near the end of his college career make him a dark horse for the upcoming NFL draft, but that is not to pass. The heart of the story, though, is Kurt's relationship with Brenda (Anna Paquin), a woman he meets at a country-Western joint. The two dance the night away, and at the end of the evening, she informs Kurt that she's divorced and a single mother to two kids. Brenda expects the young man will be scared off by the news, but he keeps returning and, after a series of disappointments, ends up living with her and her family. There are difficult times of financial struggle and uncertainty. Kurt's pride and hurt ego keep him from really committing to Brenda and her kids, and Brenda's awful first marriage makes her see signs in Kurt that might not actually be there. The real-life couple may be executive producers on the film, but this isn't some rose-tinted portrayal of the relationship or an exaggerated presentation of their problems. There's a genuine sense of support, effort, and sacrifice here, grounded by Levi and Paquin's performances, as well as the everyday ordinariness of the characters and what they face. It works well enough that, when the story does shift to football (as it does with Kurt grudgingly joining an arena variation of the game and finally getting into the "real" professional league), there's a genuine, admirably contradictory sense of both accomplishment and anti-climax. Kurt's successes in the sport matter, but compared to what he and Brenda achieve on their own and as a couple, those on-the-field triumphs mean less for him and more for them. Again, nothing about the general story of American Underdog is particularly special or unique. We've seen it all before, and we'll likely see its ilk many times more. That doesn't matter, because this film, despite its familiarity and on account of its attention to this central relationship, works. Copyright © 2021 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
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