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Archive for the ‘Sport on Film’ Category

Kai po che (India 2013)

Posted by Roy Stafford on 24 February 2013

(from left) Govind (Raj Kumar Yadav), Ishaan (Sushant Singh Rajput) and Omi (Amit Sadh)

Why do Bollywood distributors make no attempt to sell their films to audiences outside the South Asian diaspora? Kai po che as a title doesn’t mean anything if, like me, you don’t know Hindi. I’ve learned since from a review that the title is “the war-call uttered during kite-flying in Gujarat”. The film is based on a novel, The 3 Mistakes of My Life, my Chetan Bhagat. I’ve Bhagat’s five novels and enjoyed them all (his publicists promote him as the biggest-selling English language novelist in India) and I would have been immediately drawn to this film. Not only that but it is an Indian cricket film. Fortunately, sheer chance meant that I read a review so off I went to Cineworld without a second thought.

Kai po che is adapted and directed by Abhishek Kapoor, whose previous success was Rock On!, a film I found to be ‘OK’ but which I know was very popular in India. (Weirdly, Kai po che is exactly the kind of movie I said that I wanted to see rather than more Rock On!s.) With Kapoor and Bhagat as attractions the film has been eagerly anticipated in India, even though there are no major stars in the film. As far as I can see it is proving to be a winner of sorts after only a couple of days on release.

The story is set in Ahmedabad, the main city of Gujarat. It spans a period of ten years or more and the film narrative is mostly concerned with a flashback to 2000-2. Three young men are attempting to set up a retail business. Govind the maths genius is the sensible one, Ishaan the cricketer is the dreamer and Omi is the one with contacts – notably his uncle who is a local Hindu nationalist politician and the controller of the local temple properties. He agrees to lease the trio a shop space. The narrative drive comes from the different aims of each of the three leads – which represent the alternative goals/dreams of middle-class Indian men: success in business, politics or sport. (The importance of family is, of course, central to the plot.) Govind wants to make a success of the business, but he also falls for Ishaan’s sister Vidya, who he is attempting to tutor in maths. Omi finds himself, against his will, sucked into supporting his uncle’s political ambitions. Ishaan at first is unenthusiastic but then very taken by the amazingly talented 12 year-old Ali who comes to play cricket at the shop’s nets and eventually to accept Ishaan as a coach (Ishaan has played cricket at ‘district level’). This relationship will be one of the triggers for a crisis in the narrative, since Ali’s father is a political campaigner for the local Muslim party in opposition to Omi’s uncle. There are two other major dramatic events which will threaten the strong relationship between the three young men, the prospects for their business and the future of Ali as one of India’s great cricketers – but I won’t spoil the plot.

Amrita Puri as Vidya

Amrita Puri as Vidya

The adaptation changes the original story in several ways. One whole section is removed and some of the outcomes are attached to different characters. Chetan Bhagat is credited as one of the scripting team so I assume that he approves (whereas his relationship to 3 Idiots is more contentious). The excluded section is the trip the trio make to Australia but that would have been an extra budget cost and it isn’t essential to the story. Bhagat’s presentation of his stories is quite unusual – more like the idea of short stories being ‘told’ to an audience – in his case told to the real-life novelist Chetan Bhagat. This prologue and epilogue device has been cut and overall the narrative has been streamlined and made more ‘feelgood’. I’d have liked to see the original story on screen but I understand why it has been changed in this way. The pluses still remain. The three central characters are quite ‘real’/ordinary middle-class young men and it’s good to see a different city environment (beautifully presented). The performances are very good and the direction and editing deliver an engrossing and coherent narrative drive in just over two hours (running times vary in reviews but the UK certification agency says no cuts in the 125 mins). There is only one ‘song sequence’ – a day out on the coast when the three young men have a ‘bonding session’, including a leap off a cliff into the sea, possibly the only really cheesy moment in the film. I can’t really comment on the rest of the music in the film, which I confess I didn’t really notice.

Ali, the cricket prodigy, (centre) played by Digvijay Deshmukh alongside Amit Sadh as Omi

I think this is going to be an affectionately-remembered film in India and it adds one more title to the emergence of a new kind of popular cinema which is more realist, more interested in social issues, but still ‘popular’ in appeal. If you are close to a multiplex I’d urge a visit – why not avoid the tedium of the Oscars and go see something more interesting?

Rave review in The Hindu

Posted in Hindi Cinema – Bollywood, Indian Cinema, Sport on Film | Tagged: , | 2 Comments »

Patiala House (India 2011)

Posted by Roy Stafford on 10 March 2011

Akshay Kumar is Gattu

Patiala House is clearly inspired by Bend It Like Beckham and the true story of Monty Panesar’s selection (and initial success) as the first Sikh to play cricket for England. In many ways it is sentimental tosh, but I still found it good entertainment and there are several interesting aspects of the film in terms of its depiction of British Asians as viewed from an Indian perspective.

Plot outline

The Kahlon family has grown so large that they now occupy a whole small crescent of houses in Southall, West London. This small fiefdom is controlled by a fierce patriarch (Rishi Kapoor) who has named it (and his mini-cab business) ‘Patiala House’, presumably after his home town in the Punjab. He does indeed rule his little kingdom, declaring it almost outside UK law. A flashback reveals that the family suffered racist attacks in the 1970s with the death of a leading local Sikh figure in the struggles against racist thugs and the notorious SPG or Special Patrol Group (a controversial Metropolitan Police squad associated with harassing Black and Asian Londoners). The film uses archive footage, I think from 1979, when the New Zealand teacher Blair Peach was killed during a demonstration. Because of this history, the father hates the goras (‘whites’) and several years later he forbids his son Gattu to play cricket for any English team. The 17 year-old schoolboy is shown as an outstanding prospect who has already made his mark.

In the present day Gattu (Akshay Kumar) and his legion of younger brothers and sisters are kept in thrall of their father, all fearful of following their dreams to leave home and do exciting things (beyond the girls marrying approved partners). His siblings are all frustrated by Gattu’s decision to honour his father’s wishes. He still secretly practices cricket each evening but during the day runs a small newsagent’s owned by his father. He’s 34 now and seems resigned to his fate until . . . the appearance of Simran (Anushka Sharma), a young woman who has returned from an abortive attempt to make it in the Mumbai film industry. She has in tow a 12 year-old cricket-mad boy (for whom she acts as a guardian) and when the England cricket team announces that it is searching for new talent after several terrible defeats, it seems only a matter of time before the boy is urging Gattu to ‘come out’ as a cricket talent.

Commentary

The film is predictable in terms of what happens next – we want Gattu to win a cricket match for England without upsetting his father and to get the girl. It would be a pretty odd Bollywood film if it didn’t at least attempt to reach these goals, preposterous though it might seem. One review I read made the observation that what follows is similar to the German film Goodbye Lenin and that seems a good call. Since Gattu’s success would effectively ‘free’ all his siblings, they are keen to help him keep the truth from his father until his final triumph on the pitch – all they have to do is to nobble all the people who might tell the patriarch about his son wearing an England shirt.  Although what ensues has its comic moments, much of it is also quite poignant. Akshay Kumar is an athletic man who, although 42 when filming started, can just pass for 34. (By contrast, Sharma is perhaps too young even if her performance is convincing.) Monty Panesar is a spinner, but the producers have made Kumar a fast-medium bowler and with training by the great Wasim Akram he can pass as a medium pacer – perhaps like Mohinder Amarnath the Indian all-rounder who was the matchwinner when India won the 50-over World Cup in 1983. (Amarnath’s family boasts several test cricketers and since they come from Patiala it is no coincidence that they should be mentioned in the film.)

Unlike some of the mainstream Bollywood films that present only a fantasy London comprising Trafalgar Square and a villa in Hampstead, this film presents a recognisable Southall. The cricket matches utilise the Oval and for the main matches, Trent Bridge in Nottingham. Several famous test cricketers appear as themselves: David Gower, Graham Gooch, Andrew Symonds (as the Aussie who looks like he might spoil the party). But it was the appearance of Nasser Hussain, the former England test captain who was born in India that was most noticeable. His Hindi seemed rather hesitant to me and created some mirth from the South Asian audience in the cinema. I don’t remember Hussain ever provoking any comments about his decision to play for England – he moved to the UK as a 7 year-old I think and his mother is British. Andrew Symonds also has an interesting background as a cricketer. In more recent times three young British Asians of Pakistani background in the North of England, Sajid Mahmood, Adil Rashid and Ajmal Shahzad have joined the ranks of Asians playing for England. It’s interesting to go back to this Observer article written in 2006 when there were media stories about who British Asian cricket fans would support when England played South Asian touring sides in Test matches.

In some ways this film seems the closest I’ve seen to melding a Bollywood approach to a specific narrative with a setting outside India that is more than simply an ‘exotic’ backdrop. (I haven’t seen Shah Rukh Khan’s last US-set film.) I suspect that other producers will study it carefully. Meanwhile, with the Cricket World Cup in India bubbling up nicely and England and India tying a match, it offers an entertaining diversion.

Posted in Hindi Cinema – Bollywood, Indian Cinema, Sport on Film | Tagged: | 2 Comments »

The Fighter (US 2010)

Posted by Roy Stafford on 5 February 2011

Melissa Leo and Mark Wahlberg as mother and son

This is the time of year when the cinemas are block-booked with Award-nominated films. Nearly all of these are English-language films which means we are a bit stuck for new product on the blog. Still, it is good to find real blue-collar American films in contention and I thoroughly enjoyed The Fighter – more really than I expected to.

Outline (no spoilers)

Micky (Mark Wahlberg) has eight siblings – seven sisters and an older brother Dicky (Christian Bale). His mother Alice (Melissa Leo) has had at least two husbands and Micky is presumably the son of George Ward (Jack McGee). It’s 1993. The family are working-class celebrities in Lowell, Mass. as a result of Dicky’s boxing career which ended after a fight with the great Sugar Ray Leonard fourteen years previously. Dicky has now become a crack addict but still attempts to live off his reputation. Micky, nine years younger, attempts to succeed in the ring ‘for the family’, but with his mother as his manager and Dicky as his coach, he appears doomed. Only when he meets a tough but bright barmaid, Charlene (Amy Adams) does he find a chance to move forward.

The film is based on the real life events surrounding Micky Ward and the brothers (as they are now) appear in a video clip included in the end credits. (According to Wikipedia, the fights actually took place in the late 1990s and early 2000s.)

Commentary

Before seeing the film I hadn’t realised that Mark Wahlberg had been working for four years to make the film happen and that he himself came from a large working-class family in the Boston area. Darren Aronovsky was approached to direct but he ended up as Exec Producer and Wahlberg worked again with David O. Russell who had directed him in the Gulf War satire, Three Kings (1999). Aronovsky’s name immediately brings up the question of The Wrestler. There is a similarity between the two films – both are extremely well-directed with strong performances and both are in one sense throwbacks to the adult (as distinct from 15-25 year-old) orientated films of the 1970s. The Wrestler is more ‘romantic’ and driven by a performance from Mickey Rourke that almost mirrors that of his real life career. It might be argued that Mark Wahlberg is similarly-placed, but his performance is much more low-key and he is upstaged by Christian Bale as Dicky. In a sense, this was also a ‘comeback’ for David O. Russell.

I’ll probably be in a minority on this since Bale is getting all the plaudits, but I thought his casting was perhaps a mistake and his performance was ‘too much’. As my viewing companion pointed out, the real brother may have been similarly ‘too much’, but in a film it’s about how the performances work together. Christian Bale’s star persona is partly built around his physical style and his star performances as larger than life characters who are deranged in some way. Interestingly, the Boston Critics awarded the ‘Ensemble Acting’ prize to the film and that seems the right approach. The film has seven Oscar nominations including Supporting Actor Nominations for Leo, Adams and Bale. Wahlberg has to be content with a shared producers nom for Best Film. The Academy always goes for the showy performance it seems.

The other strange aspect of the film for me was the presentation of the seven sisters (from hell) – although, again, this may have been ‘true to life’. (Russell also discusses this and it is true that some of the sisters are weirdly engaging.) The strengths were the presentation of Lowell – a town I associate with textile workers during the Industrial Revolution – and the re-created boxing matches. I’m not a boxing fan as such, but certain fighters interest me because of their backgrounds (currently Amir Khan). I didn’t remember Micky Ward so I had no prior knowledge as to how the fights might work out. The film is fairly conventional and boxing stories are a Hollywood staple. Nevertheless, I became emotionally involved in the fights, almost as if they were ‘real’ (which in one sense they were of course). I think Russell and cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema (Let the Right One In) made the right decision in showing the fights in long shot as they would be seen on HBO rather than ‘getting in close’ a la Raging Bull. One fight takes place in the UK and it is completely surreal with an American stuntman playing Liverpool boxer Shea Neary.

I think I feel much as I did with The Wrestler. If mainstream American films were this good on a week by week basis, I might go back to watching them again. I hope David O. Russell is able to make more films set in this kind of milieu. There is an interesting take on Russell and on the politics of the film on the World Socialist Website.

Posted in American Independents, Sport on Film | Leave a Comment »

Chak De India! (India 2007)

Posted by Roy Stafford on 19 November 2010

The diverse group of young women representing India at hockey.

I’ve now seen three films written by Jaideep Sahni and they have all been consistently interesting and enjoyable, all picking up on aspects of contemporary Indian society and developing stories that are slightly unusual but still offering mainstream entertainment. Earlier posts discuss Khosla Ka Ghosla and Rocket Singh, Salesman of the Year. Chak De India! has a big star in Sharukh Khan but he gives a nuanced and restrained performance allowing the real stars, mostly unknown young women working as an ensemble, to come to the fore.

The title refers to an exhortation supporting India’s Women’s Hockey Team. The scenario is that the Shahrukh Khan character was India’s Hockey Captain in the World Championship Final against Pakistan when he missed a penalty in the dying seconds which could have taken the game into extra time. He is vilified in the press and then accused of being a traitor and handing the game to Pakistan. Because he is a Muslim, this charge is pursued throughout the media and he is forced to withdraw from the sport. Seven years later he is given the chance to return, but as the coach of the women’s team, who so far have been poorly supported by the hockey establishment. Nobody gives the team much chance of even being sent to Australia to compete in the World Championships and the little group of senior players is not initially impressed by the appointment of a new coach.

There are some interesting ideas involved in this set-up. The corruption of the sporting establishment is hinted at. The lower status of hockey in comparison with cricket becomes part of one of the many subplots when one of the young women rebuffs her boyfriend who as a cricketer in the national team assumes that his girlfriend will just abandon her ‘hobby’ to follow him. (Hockey is one of India’s main sports and there had been considerable national success for the men’s team before the women emerged at this level.) But the major issue in the film is the ‘shame/injustice’ that the coach feels about his World Championship failure and the national pride that he feels so strongly. This translates into more than just ‘team building’ – the young women must also learn to play for India first, for the team second and for themselves (or their specific state/cultural identity) only third.

As an ‘external’ viewer I haven’t quite decided if the film goes slightly too far with its patriotic zeal and nationalist fervour, but I guess I’m prepared to accept it. If this was a British film, I wouldn’t – I’m the kind of sports supporter who always roots for their own town/county team ahead of ‘England’ as a national team. So, I’d have been sent home from the hockey team. However, I can see that in India the issue is rather different.

The best part of the film for me was the sequence showing young women turning up from all over India representing different regions, ethnicities and religious affiliations. Their clashes with the old-fashioned administrators and then amongst themselves was well written, as was the struggle they faced in meeting the coach’s tough training demands. Throughout this Shahrukh Khan showed admirable restraint. The second half of the film shows the young women in Australia. If anything I would have liked more of this. I’d like to have seen them interacting more with the other teams and coming more into contact with Australian culture. As it is the games are well shot and exciting. The other teams are not demonised too much (but the script is endlessly confused by whether it is England, Great Britain or the UK which is competing – I don’t blame the writer, it is confusing). For the record, Wikipedia reports that the success of India’s women at the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester was the inspiration for the film.

I tend to think of Sahni’s scripts as being a form of ‘New Bollywood’ as they don’t feature song and dance ‘spectacles’ (but the music score by Salim and Suleiman Merchant is very effective and Sahni wrote lyrics for two or three songs, including the title song). This was the first film Shimit Amin directed from a Sahni script and he does a good job. The stories take place in a recognisable fictional world and the characters are believable. I think that this is one of the best sports films that I have seen.

Posted in Hindi Cinema – Bollywood, Indian Cinema, Sport on Film | 1 Comment »

Woman Basketball Player No. 5 (China 1957)

Posted by Roy Stafford on 5 April 2010

I’ve been foraging in the bargain bins at YesAsia.com again and I was pleased to find a couple of films that I have been looking out for. The first is this film from Xie Jin – his first high profile success and a key Chinese film in what scholars refer to as the Seventeen Year period (i.e. from the founding of the People’s Republic in 1949 up to the start of the Cultural Revolution in 1966).

Xie Jin is the single most important Chinese director of this period – and he continued to direct films after the end of the Cultural Revolution and into his late 70s. He died in 2008 and his last film in 2001, Woman Football Player No. 9 was a virtual remake of Woman Basketball Player No. 5. None of Xie Jin’s films are available in the UK on DVD, but his best-known film in the West, Two Stage Sisters, is available from the British Film Institute on 35 mm.

The DVD that arrived was published in China by Beauty Media (www.gzbeauty.com). These DVDs also seem to be available via Amazon.com, but YesAsia is considerably cheaper. I wasn’t expecting much and in that sense I wasn’t disappointed. The disc is Region 0 (NTSC) and played fine on my sometimes temperamental player. But although the sound was OK, the image was bleached out (this was one of the first Chinese colour films, I think) and very scratched – it must have come from a damaged 35 mm print source. As the running time matches IMDB’s 86 mins (84 for DVD), I can’t be sure if it has been cut, but it certainly felt like it – see below.

Plot outline

The protagonist is Tian, a 40 year-old retired athlete who has become a coach and at the start of the film he arrives in Shanghai to coach the local women’s team. The team is in some ways more like a ‘girls’ or young women’s team since all the players, as far as I could see, are students of 17-18. They are all giggly and the man who welcomes Tian describes them as ‘naughty’ in the English subtitles (which are somewhat unreliable). One of the team is a particularly tall young woman named Lin Xiaojie, ‘Player No. 5′ who arrives at the training camp after the other girls. She has a boyfriend who is pressurising her to go to university to study engineering and she later tells the coach that her mother doesn’t really approve of her basketball either. Tian proves to be a strict coach who requires discipline from his team members and there are some frictions between him and the team, some jokes about a single man coaching a team of young women and some petty jealousies within the team – in fact, many of the conventions of the Hollywood team sports drama. However, the film shifts gear when in a series of flashbacks we realise that Tian himself was a star basketball player as a young man in Shanghai in the late 1930s, when he loved a young woman (Lin Jie) whose father owned the team that Tian played for. I won’t spoil the narrative pleasure at this point, but most readers will have guessed that Tian’s girlfriend eventually became the mother of Lin Xiaojie and inevitably she must meet Tian again.

This plot outline suggests that the film will be a mix of the sports film with traditional Chinese film melodrama. But in fact it is more than that since any film made in China in the 1950s also had to have a directly political/ideological function – to promote the PRC, national pride in Chinese identity and the benefits of the communist system. Chinese films in the 1950s, produced by the state-run studios, were expected to follow the approved aesthetic of ‘socialist realism’ – that strange version of Hollywood realism developed in the Soviet Union under Stalinism to emphasise the heroic nature of workers and collectivism in a socialist society being built with revolutionary zeal. Most films would include a strong element of didacticism, often related to current Chinese Communist Party policies. Xie Jin includes one such speech (which is actually delivered twice) in which Tian tells a story about being humiliated as an athlete from the ‘sick man’ state of East Asia when he visited the West and how it is the duty of the young women on the basketball team to become strong athletes and to work together as a team in order to project their pride in the nation through victory on the basketball court.

Tian (Liu Qiong) holds his washboard as he tries to explain to the girls that he does his own washing. "Don't you?" he asks. Lin Xiaojie (Cao Qiwei) is the tall girl behind his left shoulder

This speech stands out in what is in other ways a conventional Hollywood-style sports film. Xie Jin does not display the socialist realist visual aesthetic – he is able, somehow, to combine Hollywood with the traditional Chinese melodrama and escape official disapproval. Xie’s Hollywood influences are primarily John Ford and Mervyn LeRoy – he also refers in interviews to being influenced by Bicycle Thieves. Though not as accomplished – or as beautiful – as the later Two Stage Sisters, Woman Basketball Player No. 5 is recognisably the work of the same director. By all accounts the film was very popular in China and even represented the PRC abroad, but I’m still suspicious about the version on this DVD (and on VCD). There are some odd inserts of train shots (almost Ozu moments!) that don’t make narrative sense as they are rural scenes when all the main characters are in Shanghai. Later, when the team travel to Beijing, there is a train sequence with a group song (dubbed by opera singers). The final scenes of the film are very rushed and I do wonder if anything else was there in the first cut – but again there are similarities with Two Stage Sisters. Instead of the Hollywood ending that often celebrates the moment of triumph, the ‘now’, Xie’s two films finish by suggesting that the major work is just beginning (i.e. as the team fly off to represent China overseas).

I enjoyed the film, but felt a little disappointed that the budget didn’t run to more than a few glimpses of Shanghai and Beijing in the 1950s. The representation of Shanghai in the late 1930s is reminiscent of Two Stage Sisters with villainous businessmen and Tian forced to play against a team of American sailors as part of a crooked deal. The melodrama works well and there is an interesting use of a symbolic pot of orchids which Lin Jie (herself a No 5 player in the women’s team in the 1930s) gives to Tian. A similar potted orchid then turns up in the later scenes. The actors are generally good and there is some interesting action on court, but I did feel that the actress who played Lin Xiaojie was rather ungainly in her movements for someone playing a top athlete. I think I may now buy some more Xie Jin films via YesAsia. (Two Stage Sisters is available.)

There is an interesting debate about Xie Jin on The Auteurs website discussion forums and two of his films are included in Chinese Films in Focus: 25 New Takes, ed. Chris Berry, BFI 2003.

The best direct commentary on Woman Basketball Player No. 5 that I have found is from Timothy Tung in ‘The Work of Xie Jin: A Personal Letter to the Editor’ in John Downing (ed) Film & Politics in the Third World, NY: Autonomedia, 1987. Tung stresses that Xie Jin was a celebrated ‘director of women’ and that he tended to find a new female star for each of his major films. He also argues that the group of young women seen in the film display an “uninhibited vitality” that was rare and fleeting in Chinese Cinema in the Seventeen Years period. The film was released at a time when Mao had announced the ‘Hundred Flowers Bloom’ campaign, urging intellectuals to speak out and the girls could be seen to represent a bright future of liberation. But the Anti-Rightist campaign stifled such voices only a few years later.

The best online resources on Xie Jin are available from Jump Cut No 34.

A translation of the full film script by two American students is available here.

Posted in Chinese Cinema, Melodrama, Sport on Film | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

Invictus

Posted by keith1942 on 25 March 2010

Morgan Freeman as Mandela and Matt Damon as Piennaar

USA / South Africa 2009. In Technicolor and 2.35:1. 133 minutes.

Director: Clint Eastwood. Screenplay by Anthony Peckham, based on the book by John Carlin.

Despite all the talent involved I found this film ponderous to watch: weighed down by all the good intentions. It is also ideological in the proper sense of the word: addressing the surface appearances rather than the underlying social contradictions. The basic plot follows the South African Springboks [rugby team] as they attempt to win the 1995 Rugby World Cup. Key to their victory, in the film and apparently in real life, is the newly elected black President of South Africa, Nelson Mandela (Morgan Freeman). He develops a bond and provides inspiration with the Springboks captain, white Afrikaan Francois Piennaar (Matt Damon).

The film opens on a road with a convoy of cars, presumably carrying the just-released from prison Mandela. On one side of the road is a grass-less mud pitch where black youth in ragged gear play football. On the other side privileged white South Africans practice under the tutelage of their school coach. Immediately there film visually presents the gross disparities that fuelled the anti-apartheid struggle. Unfortunately, this image grows dimmer as the film progresses. The Springbok team clearly have to win the cup: the question for Mandela [and viewers] is can do they so do on behalf of all the countries 42 million citizens, white and black.

The final, [apparently held in Durban rather than Cape Town) offers glorious affirmation of their success in this project. 60,000 fans roar on their team whilst nearly every other South African watches on television or listens on the radio. The sole exceptions are a young black boy and a dog. The former is collecting trash and is gradually drawn into the game’s commentary played over a police car radio. Victory sees the young man and the white policemen bonding. The dog is shown wandering through a deserted township: he is clearly baffled [as I am] by the potent attraction of such sporting events.

The victory celebrations do end on a road, as a both black and whites celebrate in the streets. But it is an urban centre road rather than the township road that opens the film. We do see a field of young black men playing rugby behind the end credits. And the field is greener and better equipped than that of the opening, though not up to the standards of the white school playing fields. But there are no young white men playing rugby with these black youth. But I sensed no irony in this final image.

In an article on the sports film, Joe Queenan (the Guardian 12-02-10) commented that: “The fact that such stirring victories almost never occur in real life is the reason that sports films exist. … It can reasonably be argued that sports films exist to provide audiences with a glimpse of a parallel universe in which the weak outmuscle the strong, good triumphs over evil …. Sports films are thus a substitute for reality, perhaps even an antidote.” On Invictus itself he writes: “[it] uses rugby as a metaphor for national spiritual rejuvenation ”. The Springboks did win the Rugby World Cup. However the national community the film celebrates is yet to materialise. The poverty, the extremes of affluence and deprivation, the experience of violence predominantly by black people are a different reality from the celebrations that close the film.

In fact the focus of the film is not on the ordinary black working class South Africans: it is on the two leaders, of the government and the national team. Most of the plot focuses on Piennar’s growing admiration for Mandela. The latter’s stature is summed up in the title of the film, which refers to a C19th British poem, Invictus [Unconquered]. The poem was given to Mandela in prison: a fact rehearsed for the audience at least three times in the dialogue. We also hear the final verse twice: once when Pienaar and his team mates visit the now empty Robbins Island Prison; and once more as Mandela sits in his car as it drives through the celebrating South African fans.

“It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the Captain of my soul.”

The author, William Ernest Henley, wrote the poem in a hospital bed where he struggled against illness and disability. One can see that the theme of personal struggle could resonate with a man in long-term prison. However, poet and captive seem to represent rather different situations: the poem was dedicated to a successful flour merchant. His equivalents in South Africa were the colonial bourgeoisie, both exploiting and oppressing the black majority. Perhaps a more appropriate British poet for a leader in the struggle against Apartheid would be Linton Kwesi Johnson. His 1970s poem Yout Rebels ends,

“young blood

yout rebels

new shapes

shapin

new patterns

creatin new links

linkin

blood risin surely

carvin a new path

movin fahwod to freedom.”

Posted in Hollywood, Sport on Film | Leave a Comment »

Cricket on film

Posted by keith1942 on 27 September 2008

The Empire Strikes Back

England 'under the cosh', 1985 - 86 series

England "under the cosh" in the 1985 - 86 series.

In 1984-5, and again in 1985-6, the West Indian cricket team scored a ‘blackwash’ over the English team: i.e. a five – nil series victory. The success was enjoyed by, among others, many West Indian migrants now living in the UK. This was ‘turning the tables’ with a vengeance. It upset the established order of the game. Cricket has always seemed intensely English pastime. Traditionally it is only partially British, played in Wales, but not so much in Scotland. However, it was taken round the British Empire and established there mainly by the colonial rulers. But now the arrival of large numbers of people from the ex-colonies has changed cricket at home.

There are not that many memorable cricketing moments in British film. (Wikipedia has a page on Cricket in Film and Television). However, sport is not generally a dynamic feature in British cinema, For a long time the best footballing feature was Hollywood’s Escape to Victory (1981). Bend it Like Beckham (2002) does offer a successful contemporary footballing story, though it relies heavily on the modern celebrity aspects of the game. When cricket has been addressed in British film the stance has frequently been individual dramas. Thus The Final Test (1951) is centrally about a father/son relationship. Sam Palmer (Jack Warner) is making his final appearance in an English test team, playing the ‘old enemy’ Australia. However, his son Reggie is more interested in writing poetry than watching his father play. So the film also offers an opposition between art and sport. This divide is bridged by Reggie’s poet-hero Alex Whitehead (deliciously played by Robert Morley) who turns out to be a cricket-mad artist. The film is graced by appearances by several famous cricketers, including Len Hutton. Even more beguiling, we hear commentary by John Arlott. However, the bulk of the film is focused on the conflict between father and son: with a sub-plot about widower’s Palmer’s tentative romance with a barmaid in the Local. The central value of the film is patriarchy. Palmer is at first undermined, but finally reinforced in his role as head of the family. And the female interest is clearly subordinate. In fact, a scene, which has Palmer laying down the moral code of the period, feels rather embarrassing today.

Jack Warner and Len Hutton on the film set.

Jack Warner and Len Hutton on the film set.

The 2003 film Wondrous Oblivion [scripted and directed by Paul Morrison] brings a greater sensitivity to issues of gender and ethnicity. It takes a parallel situation to that in The Final Test: in this case it is the son rather than the father who is the cricketer. And the film addresses this through the discourse of a multicultural Britain. The film is set in London of the 1960s. David Wiseman belongs to a Jewish immigrant family. His father, Victor, works long and hard at his tailoring business. His mother, Ruth, is caught in domestic repression. David attends a middle class school, but his ineffectual performance on the cricket pitch restricts him the lowly position of scorer for the school team.

Then Jamaican Dennis Samuels and his family move in next door. Dennis’ first act is to erect a cricket net in his backyard. It is here that he develops David’s cricketing skills and lays the basis for a developing relationship between the two families. Denis’ coaching transforms David performance and he becomes a star player in the school team.

But serpents soon disrupt the little Eden. Ruth develops an attraction for the vibrant Denis, and he has to gently dampen her approaches. A more serious snare has David succumb to his schoolmate’s prejudices and snub Dennis’ daughter Judy on the occasion of his birthday party.

Now serious racial prejudice surfaces in the local community. Dennis’ house is set on fire by local thugs: It is David who raises the alarm and saves lives; but both the house and Dennis’ cricket net are destroyed. The neighbours stand idly by and the local police do not treat the incident seriously.  Victor is appalled by this passivity, and events also suggest a simmering prejudice against the Wisemans that until now has remained below the surface. David and his family help Dennis rebuild his beloved nets: Victor provides materials and Ruth labour. Other neighbours shamefacedly help repair the damage to the house. The new relationships are cemented at a picnic, which in a reversal of The Final Test, has David missing an important school match.

Clearly, like The Final Test, this film is about fathers and sons. Denis offers a surrogate father to the young David. However, by the closure of the film David’s own family and their relationships have been reconstructed. David has not only improved his cricketing skills but also matured in his handling of these relationships. Just as the film is notably more modern in terms of ‘race’, so its treatment of gender is more modern, David mother’s Ruth has a more prominent role and is able to develop as a person. However, her situation is still subservient to that of the males: it is patriarchy that is central in this film. And there is a class dynamic, though this is not developed fully. At the end of the film, the Wisemans’ are moving geographically to north London, socially upwards. Most notably, we meet members of the current West Indian Test team. But they appear at the picnic rather than in battle with the Empire team at home.

Coach and player

Coach and player

Television, which has featured slightly more outings for the game. seems to mirror this approach. Thus an episode of Inspector Morse features the hallowed game in ‘Deceived by Flight’: Morse is essentially about a surrogate father/son relationship. In this drama Morse’s Sergeant Lewis has to play in the ‘old boys’ team. And during the play he is clearly seeking Morse’s approval. As usual Morse is distracted by a woman: in this case two, the traditional woman and the devious femme fatale.

A rather different focus emerges in a number of films made in the context of the colonial discourse which, whilst retaining overtones of father and sons, have more directly addressed and criticised the Imperial master. So films from colonial and ex-colonial territories frequently offer intriguing dramas.

In the 1970s Australian Television produced a mini-series on the notorious Bodyline controversy. (There is a fairly detailed account of this 1932-3 British cricket tour of Australia in Wikipedia). In 1930, the Australian cricket team had toured England with the great Don Bradman. He averaged over a 100 and Australia won the series. The English team captain Douglas Jardine noted that Bradman was not that good at dealing with short balls. Short pitch bowling tends to bounce up directly at the batsman, who can be hit on the body by a ball that may travel at up to 90 miles an hour. Most of the modern protective gear, like helmets, was not available in the 1930s. Jardine worked out a strategy with his fast bowlers, which involved balls directed at the batsman, who was faced with either being hit or possibly nicking a ball which could be caught by a fielder. The tactics had an impact during the tour of Australia both on and off the field. A famous scene includes the lines: “There are two teams out there. One if playing cricket. One is making no attempt to do so.” The row became so bitter that it involved diplomatic exchanges and spontaneous boycotts of goods by fans in home countries. It remains the most controversial event in the history of international cricket.

The mini-series rather sensationalises history, but produces a powerful dramatic retelling. Central to the narrative is the conflict between the superior imperial British and the ordinary colonial Australians. This conflict is about class, but also about colonial dominance and resistance. The Imperial strand is evident early on in Part One. This presents the upbringing of the young Douglas Jardine. A key scene, set in the Indian Raj, has Lord Harris (one-time England captain, MCC President and Governor of Bombay) presenting the young Jardine with a cricket bat. The rich mise en scène emphasises the power and affluence of the Raj. Later, when Jardine joins the English cricket side there is a clear divide between the players like Jardine, who are comfortably upper-class, and the professional, like the fast bowler Harold Larwood, who comes from a mining community. There are also indications of Jardine’s ruthless streak. In one match he instructs his bowler to stump an over-eager batsman out of his crease. This is technically legal, but hardly within the much-vaunted ‘spirit of cricket’. The actual contemporary spirit of the British game is well shown in that Larwood the bowler became the scapegoat after the tour, he was never selected for England again.

The second part of the series follows the actual Bodyline matches. The varied scenes include actual match play: responses by both spectators and journalist: and behind-the-scenes discussions among administrators and politicians. Especially potent are the crowd scenes. These emphasise once more the more proletarian style of the Australian colonials. There are also running gags, one being a fan who smuggles his sheepdog into every game in a Gladstone bag.

All these different scenes emphasise the distinction between English ruthlessness and Australian sportsmanship. When the conflict reaches a climax we see the British government using economic power to face down the Australians. At this point the Australian team consider refusing to play another test: (a sort of prequel to the action by Pakistan players in 2007). Then in a key scene they decide to soldier on and face the British barrage. This is the point at which they acquire heroic status, becoming the representatives of Australian fair play and courage. Clearly in this drama the British are ‘not playing cricket’.

In fact, what is probably the best British film on cricket is Playing Away (1986). The 1980s were a decade when the problems of racist Britain were glaringly visible for all to see. This was a factor in the new, pioneering Channel Four, whose Film Four International produced the film. It was also the decade that saw the Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies publish a collection on “race” and racism under the title The Empire Strikes Back (Hutchinson University Press, 1982). As an anti-racist poster of the period put it, “We are over here because you are over there.”

The film was scripted by Caryl Phillips and directed by Horace Ové, both important Black British artists of the period. Ové migrated to Britain in 1960 from Trinidad at the age of 20. Phillips was born on St Kitts, but most of his upbringing was in the UK. Both have produced important bodies of work that address the experiences of Afro-Caribbean communities in Britain.

The main plot mechanism is a cricket match held in the Suffolk village of Sneddington to round off a week of fund raising for the Third World. The village team is to play the Brixton-based Conquistadors in a Sunday league fixture. The film opens on the Friday evening as the two captains marshal their sides and preparations. Sneddington’s captain Derek (Nicholas Farrell, reprising elements of his character in Chariots of Fire, 1981), is a middle class migrant to the rural haven, where he has lived for 5 or 6 years. The Conquistador captain is Willie Boy (a typical Norman Beaton characterisation), He is a Jamaican migrant whose wife has already returned to the island, but who has not quite managed this himself. Horace Ové, in an interview in the Monthly Film Bulletin (December 1987) comments: “It is not the same for their parents – that generation of West Indians who came over in the 40s and 50s. They were encouraged to come here, like Willie Boy in Playing Away. They thought life was going to be great, they worked hard but today they feel outside the gates of society and many of them question what they are doing here and want to go home to the Caribbean. I’ve lived in two worlds ever since I’ve been here.”

The film immediately sets up a series of oppositions as it cuts between Sneddington and Brixton. Clearly there is the contrast between urban and rural culture. But there are also oppositions of “race” and ethnicity, class, gender and a generation gap. These contradictions are not just between rural Suffolk and urban London. They are within both communities. Derek, his wife and best mate Kevin, (the team fast bowler), are marked off from the more proletarian village natives (or Oiks). And Willie Boy has an argument with Errol (Gary Beadle), the young, virile team member who is also dating Willie Boy’s daughter Yvette (Suzette Llewellyn).

In fact, there are a number of sub-plots concerning personal dilemmas and problems. A key character is Godfrey (Robert Urquhart), whose wife Marjorie (Helen Lindsay) is clearly the main organizer of this event. Godfrey and Marjorie have travelled abroad and sojourned in Kenya for a time. However, Godfrey’s knowledge of and sympathy for the Afro-Caribbean communities is slyly undercut in the film. A slide show for the village members with pictures set in Africa clearly includes a still where Godfrey is standing in front of a matte rather than an actual place. (Much clearer in a 35-mm print than on video). Such subversions recur regularly in the film. Some of these character and plot mechanism appear rather like those of television soaps, a genre that Ové also worked in. The development of the sub-plots brings some members of the two groups together, but also exacerbates other tensions. These come to a head in the final match.

Sneddington bat first and score 105. The Conquistadors chase this total but lose six wickets in the process and are clearly struggling. At this point two LBW appeals are turned down by the umpire, Godfrey. (The filming suggests Godfrey’s decision is possibly not impartial). The bowler Ian, (one of the Oiks) storms off the pitch, followed by five of his village mates. The pitch is now set for an easy Conquistadors victory. This is achieved by the partnership of Willie Boy and Errol. Errol, surprisingly, suggest that they take is easy and ‘make a game of it’, but Willie Boy scornfully counters that he is always ‘soft on the white man’.

Derek watches Ian versus Erroll

 

Thus by late Sunday the Brixton West Indians are more united whilst Sneddington is in disarray. Charles Barr (In Monthly Film Bulletin, November 1987) made a good comment on this point in the film. “In his classic History of Cricket (1938, and much reprinted), H. S. Altham remarked that West Indian teams were handicapped by ‘temperamental weaknesses” when playing away, on tour in England; through all the shifts of on-and-off-field power that have occurred since, the stereotyped opposition of volatile black visitors and phlegmatic white hosts has tended to linger on.” Playing Away subverts it exuberantly, as the hosts from the picture-postcard village of Sneddington, heading for victory over their Brixton visitors on cricketing merit, blow the match through temperamental disintegration.”

Barr clearly identifies the way that the film subverts traditional sporting and media stereotypes. And this extends through the various subplots and characters. Playing Away is a work rich in contradictions. And it is rich in an irony that is usually lacking, not only in UK cricketing films, but UK sporting films more generally.

India seems to have produced more cricketing films than other countries playing the game. The titles include Awwal Number (1990) which combines a one-day series against Australia with a terrorist threat to spectators: and Iqbal (2005) which follows a rural deaf-mute boy who achieves cricketing prowess and a place on the national team. With Lagaan (2001), a major critical and commercial success, a larger dimension has been addressed. The film offers a historical, almost mythic confrontation between the British Empire and the subjugated Indian villagers in the form of a classic cricket match. The film is a star vehicle, produced by as well as featuring Aamir Kahn: plus a guest appearance by superstar Amitahb Bachchan as the film’s narrator. There are star ‘playback’ singers like Lata Mangeshkar, and the music is by the star composer A. R. Rahman.

The film is set in an ordinary village in the ‘heart of India’. It is 1893, the height of the rule of the British Raj. The film’s title, Lagaan, refers to a tax on the harvest of the villagers: officially paid to the Rajah, but mainly expropriated by the British, to whom the Rajah is subservient. And this year the hardship caused by the tax has been aggravated by the two seasons of the little rain. The conflict is embodied in the two leading characters: Captain Russell (Paul Blackthorne), the brutal and arrogant British commander, and Bhuvan (Aamir Khan), a villager living with his widowed mother. Bhuvan is a typical Hindi hero, as central to Bollywood films as the ‘all-American action hero’ is to Hollywood. The film is also conventional in other ways, featuring six large-scale song and dance numbers; a traditional Hindi mother; and Bhuvan’s romance with fellow villager Gauri (Gracy Singh).

However, the plot also has distinctive elements. Captain Russell challenges Bhuvan and the villagers to a cricket match, and wages three years free of lagaan against a triple lagaan payment for the current year. Bhuvan’s task becomes to persuade the village to fight the challenge and to build a team capable of taking on the British. In the course of building the team Bhuvan constructs a representation of an India united against the British. So there are both Hindus and Muslims, and a Sikh member who has traveled to join the team in their fight. Finally, Bhuvan recruits a dalit or ‘untouchable’. Kachra has a withered arm, and (referencing more recent cricket?) has the ability to bowl almost unplayable spin. His recruitment sparks protests from the prejudiced villagers. However, Bhuvan rallies the team and village with a powerful speech: and a song and dance number gives expression to their new unity of purpose.

Bhuvan and the team are also assisted by Captain Russell’s sister, Elizabeth (Rachel Shelley). Initially, she helps the villagers out of a sense of fair play, but it is soon apparent that she is smitten with Bhuvan. This provides a romantic sub-plot, which brings in more conventional references, this time to the mythic story of Krishna and Radha; star-crossed lovers. There is another plot strand when the villager Lakha, jealous of Bhuvan and Gauri, works as a spy and saboteur for the British.

The village team members are subordinate to Bhuvan in the plot, but do develop individually. Like Kachra, most of them have particular cricketing skills. Deva, the Sikh, has played cricket before in the British army. Bhura, who spends his time chasing his chickens is a fine fielder. Bagha, who plays the drum before the village shrine, is a fine batsman. The contrast with the British is also one of class, as that team is composed solely of officers. At one point a vital and dazzling song and dance in the village is contrasted with the cool, formalized and affluent ballroom of the British.

The film climaxes in a three-day match between the British and the Villagers, watched both by the British colonial establishment and a mass of rural Indians. The match is commented on and explained (for both audiences) by Ram Singh, Elizabeth’s servant. The game runs for about 80 minutes of the overall film. And whilst the production has gone to great lengths to produce convincing period detail, the plot also plays on contemporary cricket lore. So, aside from Kachra’s spin. a British bowler indulges in ‘bouncers’ and ‘beamers’. Several village batsmen are injured, including Ismail, who is allowed a ‘runner’, This is the village youth Tipu, who is stumped in a similar fashion to the incident in Bodyline. There is frequent ‘sledging’ by the British officers. And in a moment of rage Captain Russell trashes the British dressing room.

Predictably, the villagers win, but the result is in doubt till the last ball. In fact this is a ‘no ball’, saving the wicket of Kachra, last man in. This enables Bhuvan to hit the winning six. He has, also, carried his bat through the innings. So whilst it is a team effort, the prime focus remains on Bhuvan the hero. The victory enables Bhuvan to win Gauri, and leaves Elizabeth to return to England sadder and wiser. Captain Russell is banished to the ‘Central African desert’, and one hopes that there are not more benighted villagers there to suffer his brutal domination.

The film not only uses the conventions of Hindi cinema, but also subverts those of the Empire cinema. It has a native hero who rallies the ‘troops’, aided by a lovelorn maiden, but a white maiden. And once more it is the British officers who show the least regard for the ‘spirit of cricket’.

These ‘colonial’ films clearly mirror the changing hierarchies of international cricket. But they also consciously dramatise cricket as a metaphor for the larger social and political conflicts.

The Final Test, Playing Away and Lagaan are all available on region 2 DVDs. Bodyline is available on a Region 4 DVD.

Posted in British Cinema, Indian Cinema, Sport on Film | Tagged: , | 1 Comment »

 
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