Poffé
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Aiming
Low, Scoring Lower.
by
Jon Dunmore © 17 Jun 2006.
Kicking
and Screaming
is simply a Disney Message waiting to happen.
Phil
Weston (Will Ferrell) coaches a little league soccer team
of shiftless misfits against his super-competitive dad,
Buck (Robert Duvall), whose team is top dog. As counter-intuitive
as it may seem in pitting Duvall against Ferrell as rival
coaches, think how absolutely ludicrous it is to place them
side by side as actors. Yet it is not this aspect that drags
this movie into the realm of Insufferable.
Due
to negatively bombarding Phil with messages that he was
never good enough, Buck drives Phil to become obsessed with
winning against him. Through the magic of coffee, and a
hefty dose of competitive neurosis, Phil turns into a kicking
and screaming training dynamo. This, of course, just won't
do with the shiftless misfits, who can just as easily become
as good as the top team through a montage. So Phil becomes
the Bad Guy - because ambition and drive in a kid's movie
are human aspects as unsavory as sexuality and intelligent
parents.
Kicking
and Screaming might have survived its death-roll into
sub-mediocrity had it not taken its Message so seriously.
This Message thing in movies is getting out of hand, each
Message delivered from some interchangeable generic Message
Script sanctioned by talentless Hollywood executives and
sexless Christian fundamentalists; each Message delivered
with same tinkling piano (which South Park captures
so perfectly), same remorseful protagonist made to see the
error of his ways by his oh-so-perceptive son; same stand-by-me
wife (here played by Kate Walsh doing her emergency Rene
Russo) seeing through to the "good man" underneath;
with nothing interrupting The Message to diminish its import
- no other people entering the frame suddenly or a jet flying
overhead or dog barking or rival team heckling - no, The
Message is sacrosanct.
Delivered
with the bracing sobriety of a soccer ball to the nuts,
we are told - as always, insidiously, through the "stupidity"
of Phil rather than through his "intelligence"
- that ambition makes you forget your family.
Firstly,
to be ambitious and driven, you need to forget a lot more
than just your family. Winning IS sacrifice. But, the movie
argues, we are dealing with a little-league soccer team
who just want to have fun. Well, how did they get good enough
to win the last match? They didn't do that by "having
fun," but by the sweat that Phil coaxed out of them
during the montage.
And
having ambition does not mean you cannot also love your
family. Which planet do these small-brained humans come
from, where they can only assimilate one emotion at a time?
It's a wonder they can even speak and breathe simultaneously.
Once again, paradoxical, sub-human, imbecile values being
shoved onto children, under the guise of "family entertainment."
Director
Jesse Dylan could have easily retained the lightheartedness
of this Ferrell vehicle if he had not caved to writers Leo
Benvenuti and Steve Rudnick dive-bombing the story into
some kind of AA meeting "confessional."
Before his restitutional "Hi, I'm Phil and I'm a coffeeholic"
speech, Ferrell shoulders the comedy with his usual spastic
grace, ably supported by Duvall, of course. (Hey! It's Duvall!)
Mike Ditka (real life coach of Da Bears), though out of
his element (acting and soccer) puts in a first-time performance
that is only commendable for the hilarity his non-acting
approach brings to it.
And
the two young Italian players, Francesco Liotti and Alessandro
Ruggiero, add a grand element to the play, stunning the
crowd with all those moves reserved for international soccer
commercials.
There
was stylish camerawork on the field of play, shakily reminiscent
of grittier action films, which elevated the movie into
a realm it was not comfortable residing in - never fear,
as soon as the action moved off the field, the stilted direction
and maudlin Message brings it crashing to mediocrity once
more.
END
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