Any Given Sunday: Director's Cut

3/4

Starring: Al Pacino, Cameron Diaz, Jamie Foxx, Dennis Quaid, LL Cool J, James Woods, Aaron Eckhart, Matthew Moden, Jim Brown, Lawrence Taylor, Lela Rochon

Rated R for Language, Sexuality/Nudity and Drug Content

Most sports movies are about personal redemption, team spirit, winning the big game or a combination of those familiar tropes.  But "Any Given Sunday" is directed by Oliver Stone, who does not make conventional movies.  This is a vicious attack on the game of football and pro sports in general.  Stone's targets are varied and he never misses a chance to skewer them without mercy.  It's so bruising that it leaves you shaken.  This feels like a sports movie from someone who hates sports.

The NFL has been rocked by scandal after scandal over the past decade, and as such the film gains new relevance and energy.  After the revelation of CTE in football players (including football player-turned-murderer Aaron Hernandez), "Any Given Sunday" seems less like the work of a cynic or satirist and more like the words of Cassandra of Troy.  Stone was sounding the alarm, but no one took him seriously.  He's not a whistleblower; he was just ahead of the curve.

Tony D'Amato (Pacino) is the longtime head coach of the Miami Sharks.  He's an old-school kind of guy, believing in long term success and teamwork over "stars" and instant gratification.  Unfortunately, that doesn't sit well with his new team owner, Christina Pagniacci (Diaz), whose ambition is matched only by her ruthlessness.  Things come to a head when veteran quarterback Jack "Cap" Rooney (Quaid) is out with a back injury and his replacement, Willie Beaman (Foxx) becomes an instant sensation.  Tony is wary of Willie because he isn't a team player but Christina doesn't care since the new hotshot is winning games.

This is an old showbiz story, but what gives the film its edge is just how unsparing it is.  For these people, love of the game is merely a buzzword.  The real ideals here are money and ego.  One player is motivated not just by winning, but because his running yards are tied to a commercial opportunity.  Christina is willing to blackmail the mayor for a new football stadium.  And contracts with the team are weaponized second nature.  Relationships are created and dropped with abandon.  Worst of all, medical advice is disregarded or ignored in favor of game wins by nearly everyone.  Think "Sunset Blvd," only angrier and more devastating.

The performances are strong.  Al Pacino arrests the camera as he is won't to do, but the scenes where he really shines are his quieter moments.  For him and his defensive coordinator (Brown), it's the love of the game that drives them.  They are weary of the money, the egos, the contracts, and all that.  In a very real way, the game has changed and they mourn what it has become.  He's quite good here.  The biggest surprise is Cameron Diaz, who not only manages to shed her light comic reputation, but stand toe to toe with the legendary Al Pacino.  The film would fall apart if she couldn't hold her own, but she matches him beat for beat.  Their scenes together achieve an electricity worthy of a great Mamet play.  Rarely have words felt so violent.  Jamie Foxx is also good as the volatile Willie "Steamin'" Beaman.  The actor has no trouble navigating his character arc from nervous rookie to arrogant jerk to mature leader.  While this wasn't his first role, it's the one that really kicked off his career.  The rest of the cast, which is littered with big names and character actors from top to bottom, is rock solid.

Oliver Stone has an ax to grind, and by the time the film is half over, just about every target gets pummeled into the ground.  Stone is so savage and relentless in his attacks that no one emerges unscathed.    He uses every tool in the closet to bust some skulls.  And while the frantic cuts, flash inserts and aggressive music keep the energy up and make the audience feel his venom, it occasionally crosses the line into overkill.  It's so in your face that we can't see the strategy of the game and it distances us from the characters.  Other times, it's ill-fitting (the clips from "Ben-Hur" are an example).

Once the game and its assorted parasites have been burned to the ground, the film shifts gears.  It becomes a traditional sports movie.  While it's effectively presented and offers redemption after all the carnage, it is a curious choice.  It's satisfying to a degree, but considering how venomous the first two hours were, it feels a bit artificial.  Why did Stone allow his movie to celebrate the very thing he attacked so furiously?  Did he like his characters too much?  Did he want to apologize to the audience?  I'm not sure, but after what came before I have to admit that it is satisfying on some level.

"Any Given Sunday" works and is well worth seeing.  But you'll never look at football anyway

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