{"id":5890,"date":"2011-07-21T09:00:22","date_gmt":"2011-07-21T08:00:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=5890"},"modified":"2011-07-21T09:00:22","modified_gmt":"2011-07-21T08:00:22","slug":"write-what-you-love-friday-night-lights","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2011\/07\/21\/write-what-you-love-friday-night-lights\/","title":{"rendered":"Write What You Love: Friday Night Lights"},"content":{"rendered":"
Team BadRep were sent a writing prompt last month:
What is your favourite film or TV series, and why? If it\u2019s what
you\u2019d call \u2018feminist-friendly\u2019, what about it appealed? If
it isn\u2019t, how does that work for you, and are there nonetheless
scenes, characters and so on that have stayed with you and continue to
occupy a soft spot for you as a feminist pop culture
adventurer?<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n
Alright then,
Friday Night
Lights<\/a><\/strong> (the film, not the TV series). It’s the
true-ish (true in as much as any Hollywood adaptation of real events
is ever true) story of the 1988 Permian Panthers, a highschool
American football team based out of Odessa, Texas. Based on the book
of the same name by
H.G. Bassinger<\/strong>, it’s really quite an amazing
depiction of the levels of pressure placed on young players in a
town that has nothing else going for it. Odessa is the sort of town
where you get into college with a football scholarship, or you stay
there and live out the same life your parents did.<\/p>\n
It might be a somewhat unusual choice for this site, given that
it’s focused entirely on the macho-tastic world of American
football, and features less than a handful of female characters
– all defined by their relationship to one of the males (the
coach’s wife, the quarterback’s mother) – who
get maybe 10 lines in total. But stick with me here, because the
film does raise a few issues worth discussing.<\/p>\n
First up, let’s just cover why this film counts as a
favourite. American football, more than perhaps any other sport,
is self-mythologising. It builds up a grand narrative, spins out
legends, and casts itself as something more than just a bunch of
millionaires in armour running into each other. Go watch a
highlight video<\/a>,
or an episode of America’s
Game<\/a>, which shows the story of each year’s Superbowl
winner. Everything about them, the way the footage is cut, the
music, is all part of narrativising the events, making myths. And
Friday Night Lights captures that perfectly.<\/p>\n
Part of the reason the film captures that feeling so well, and
part of what makes it a good film (other than some excellent
cinematography and casting) is the soundtrack. The film is almost
entirely accompanied by the work of Explosions in the Sky, a
sweeping instrumental act native to Texas, where the events take
place. Take a listen to this<\/a>
and tell me it doesn’t make you want to go do something
grand.<\/p>\n
But enough of the fanboying. Let’s look at the issues this
film brings up.<\/p>\n
The first interesting thing the film handles is issues of race.
Texas, particularly the smaller towns, is not well known for its
progressive attitude towards racial equality. So when the
championship game turns out to be against the state’s first
all-black team, Dallas Carter, this is a big thing. And you know
what? It’s handled pretty damn well. It can probably best be
summed up with one particular quote. The coaches and assorted
hangers-on of both teams have met to discuss where the game will
take place, and how it will be adjudicated to ensure fairness.
Asked about referees, the Panthers’ coach suggests hiring a
team of officials. Asked whether these zebras1<\/a><\/sup> will be black or white the coach
replies “I believe a zebra’s got about the same
amount of black stripes as he does white ones.”<\/p>\n
It’s not just the coaches. The players on the Panthers
are a pretty varied mix of black, white and Latino. It’s
hard to say how much of this is credit to the film makers, and
how much is merely a reflection on the make up of the real
life team the events are based on. What is definitely to their
credit though is the way these characters are handled. The
film makers resist the temptation to give us Male White Lead
#27b and make the entire film about the quarterback. Instead
we get equal screen time devoted to several of the characters
(with the arguable show-stealer being Derek Luke<\/strong><\/a> as star running back James
“Boobie” Miles). It’s nice to see.<\/p>\n
The second issue we get in the film, which I’d argue
is relevant to basically everyone, is the pressure placed
on young people and the struggles of forming an identity.
In the context of the film this identity is mostly about
defining yourself as a person beyond what your town
expects of you as a player. But the basic principle
applies to any youthful deviation from accepted norms,
which is probably something a fair few readers here have
experienced. Telling the world you identify as a feminist
might not immediately seem the same as telling your dad
you don’t care that much about football, but I think
the film does a nice job of showing the universal
pressures of youth that tie both experiences
together.<\/p>\n
Being the champions is basically all the town cares about.
On game day, everything shuts down as people leave their
workplaces to go watch the game. It’s made clear to
the coach that if they don’t win the state
championship he should probably think about finding a
different down to live in. Win and you’re a local
god, lose and you’re a pariah. The alcoholic
former-champion father of one character captures this
particularly well, kind and caring when the team’s
winning, drunk and abusive when his son makes a mistake.
How does someone grow and learn to be themselves faced
with that?<\/p>\n
It’s a good film, it raises some interesting points,
and it gives a fascinating look into the life of small
town Texas. And for all that it shows the darker side of
football, it’s still the film that made me go out
and start playing, so it has to get some credit for
that.<\/p>\n