THE GREATEST GAME EVER PLAYED
Reviewed by Sam Hatch
Just when you thought you knew about every sporting event from the early 1900s that allegedly captured the world's attention and spawned a bonafide cultural phenomenon, yet another one comes sailing down the fairway. In the tradition of 2004's Seabiscuit (surprise summertime horseracing hit) and this year's Cinderella Man (surprise summertime pugilism dud) comes The Greatest Game Ever Played , the second film directed by Bill Paxton. Game (adapted from his own book by Twin Peaks scribe Mark Frost) explores the young life of Shia LaBeouf's Francis Ouimet, who in 1913 became the first golf amateur to play (at the tender young age of twenty) in the U.S. Open. Though clearly of an earlier timeline than those two depression-era against-all-odds sporting pictures, Game still uses the device of a sporting event that manages to actually transcend the sport itself. Ouimet and his fate somehow become attached to the fate of all Americans, particularly those with class prejudices stacked against them.
And the malaise of the class struggle is what plagues both Francis Ouimet and his adversary, the English golf superstar Harry Vardon. Harry has triumphed against the stovepipe-crowned meanies who razed his childhood home (to make way for a golf course) only to find himself a national hero who is still denied membership to London's most prestigious gentleman's clubs. Ouimet is the son of a poor French-Canadian labourer who resides near a golf course in a Bostonian suburb. This early exposure to the sport leads Francis to continually hone his golfing skills on his bedroom floor while the rest of the family sleeps. Or tries to. He eventually gets so good that he can factor the uneven terrain of the warped wooden floorboards into his putting strategy. Yet his obstacles are twofold – his father is both terrified and angered by the thought of personal dreams and their destructive aftermath, and the fact that Francis is talented at a sport reserved for the social elite. LaBeouf plays Francis with a understated intensity, coming across as a young Russell Crowe at times.
The film smartly creates sympathy for both opponents, a tact that Crowe's Cinderella Man chose to eschew. That film demonized the boxer Max Baer in the name of creating a juicy cinematic villain, but Paxton manages to infuse Game with enough obstacles that we don't bemoan the lack of a central antagonist. Not to say that semi-villainous characters are missing entirely. In an early scene where Francis is allowed to attend a country club dinner, a Titanic-like chain of events unravel in which he meets a charming young lady of well means (played by Peyton List) and her angry brother Freddie. The latter character is more than willing to announce to the other players present that Ouimet is merely a caddy who doesn't truly belong in their company.
And just how he gets to be in their company is one of the places where the film falters. We see how his talents are honed and that he manages to work his way onto the golf course, but hosts of ill-developed allies materialize out of thin air. Why so many key people are going out of their way to help Francis enter tournaments is not entirely explained. He obviously has talent, but his guardian angels seem to come too easily. But enter a tournament he does, only to lose in the finale and resign himself to keeping a deal with his father that entails abandoning his dreams for good.
The film finds its legs again as it explores the inner death one experiences when they deny what makes them whole. Francis clearly knows that his bargain is smothering his soul, yet refuses to let it show in respect for his father. LaBoeuf excels in these scenes, as he must express one thing through his words yet show the bottled-up despair through his eyes. Luckily, mom knows best and arrives just in time to bring Francis to an opera recital starring a gifted young singer. Coming to grips with the fact that he can no longer subdue the need to express his natural talents, Francis finally opts to disobey his father and swiftly returns home to enter in the U.S. Open.
As a late entry with little options left for a caddy candidate, he becomes saddled with a wisecracking ten-year-old truant with a gift for inspiring Francis with simple advice that nonetheless bears fruit. Once the game ensues, the film gains momentum – using numerous cinematic tricks to portray the mindset of the golf players. Francis' POV is a tunnel vision Hitchcockian push-pull zoom that warps space and brings the distant hole close enough to touch. CG work exposes Vardon's inner mind as it visually dissolves the raucous world around him, trees and all, leaving only him, silence and the green expanse leading to the prize ahead.
Once the strokes are made, we're given numerous shots from the ball's view as it sails through the course. The computer graphics aren't overdone, but crop up enough to enliven the action during the three days of play. A more natural visual spice comes in the form of torrential rains that plague the course during the second day of the tournament. And the game itself is a mesmerizing chain of events, loaded with tension. Vardon finds himself continually haunted by visions of the grim looking men who destroyed his home and told him that he would never be allowed to play a gentleman's sport. Francis feels the pressure as well, and often chokes when he knows important visitors (such as an anachronistic President Taft) are watching his every move. Not having prior knowledge of the real events has its advantages, as the eventual outcome could truly be anybody's game. Win or lose, you get the sense that either outcome will be a personal victory for Ouimet.
Paxton's direction is bit more workmanlike than that of either Gary Ross or Ron Howard, and Game is obviously not as adventurous as his freshman effort, the simple yet marvelously creepy Frailty. Yet he has fashioned a solid effort that deftly infuses the historical docudrama with a human narrative exploring the innate desire to rise above one's place in life. The biggest shame is that Disney has decided to market the film as primarily kids' fare, promoting LaBoeuf as a golf whiz kid saddled with a comedic preteen sidekick who mutters catchphrases like ‘Easy peasy, lemon squeasy'. Hardly any of the adult drama regarding Harry Vardon and his partner is on display in any of the trailers. The film should have been a vehicle for LaBeouf to make the jump from adolescent actor to major player, a la John Cusack with The Grifters (though granted, with much lighter fare here). Instead, Disney chose to promote it as “Holes in One” and in the process lost the trophy.
I now await the day when someone will discover the true story of a boy in the 1920s who is raised by feral cats only to rejoin society and become the best badminton player in America. Go, Catbirdy, Go!