Miracle
by Mark Sells

On February 22, 1980, the unthinkable happened. A ragtag group of college hockey players defeated a nearly invincible Russian juggernaut on their way to Olympic gold at Lake Placid . It is widely considered one of the greatest triumphs in sports history. Told through the perspective of head coach Herb Brooks, Gavin O'Connor's Miracle depicts the chain of events that brought the team together and the events that spawned the upset of the century. It shows the hard work, the determination, and the teamwork that were necessary to compete with the Russians. And although it struggles to reproduce the emotion of the moment, it reminds us that on one fateful Friday night, the impossible was possible.

The story begins and ends with Brooks (Kurt Russell), a former Olympic athlete turned head coach. Leading the University of Minnesota 's hockey team to three national championships in less than 8 years, Brooks developed a reputation for being a demanding, but respectable winner. Selected by the U.S. Olympic committee as head coach of the men's hockey team for the upcoming winter games, Brooks was poised to settle an old score and fulfill a lifelong dream. With only months to prepare, the team was hand picked by Brooks without much need for tryouts. This caused quite a stir, because many of the nation's top players were not on the team. Furthermore, he used unconventional methods like psychology tests to formulate the best lines. And by emphasizing the fundamentals of teamwork, speed, and endurance while infusing the European style of play, he reshaped American hockey all together.

Brooks was well aware that if the U.S. were to have any chance at winning a medal, they would have to go through the Russian national team, a legendary team that had won an unprecedented 4 consecutive gold medals. In order to focus and strategize more effectively, he would have to limit his interaction with the team. “I'm your coach, not your friend,” he often told his players. This method would prove to be decisive, transforming the team into a mentally tough and physically fit group of guys. While the coach was viewed as the enemy, the players bonded with one another. And gradually, they became a family.

After months of preparation, the U.S. faced its first test in an early exhibition game against the Russians at Madison Square Garden, two weeks before the start of the Olympics. But there were no miracles to be found. In a humiliating defeat, the Americans fell 10-3, while losing one of their key players. Licking their wounds and struggling early in the tournament, the U.S. scrapped their way into a semifinal rematch. Little did anyone know that the stage was set for one of the greatest upsets of all time.

The film is reminiscent of the 1986 classic, Hoosiers , in which Gene Hackman's Norman Dale, an unemployed high school basketball coach, travels to the small town of Hickory , Indiana to teach a group of boys the fundamentals of basketball. Both films stay focused on the trials and tribulations of the coach, rather than honing in on the quirks and backgrounds of the players. And both are excellent depictions of what great coaches do. We see Dale and Brooks fight off skepticism about their strategies; we see them go out of their way to teach their lessons; and we see the players developing a respect for them and a respect for each other that epitomizes teamwork.

Cast as the tenacious, yet highly misunderstood coach, Russell embraces the character of Brooks in his behavior and most noticeably, his appearance. Whether it was the retro haircut, the Minnesota accent, or those prominent checkered pants, I was completely convinced Russell was someone other than Goldie Hawn's hubbie. Moody, self-assured, and enigmatic, Russell turns in his finest performance since 1983's Silkwood . Supporting Russell in comfortable roles are Patricia Clarkson and Noah Emmerich. Clarkson is less dramatic and compelling as Brooks' wife than in previous roles, but her character represents the necessary opposite, bringing Brooks a touch of reality from time to time. And subtly, Noah Emmerich provides great rapport and friendship, much like his good-natured Marlon in The Truman Show . The rest of the cast is filled in by a group of no name, hunky actors who were boldly cast as hockey players first and actors second -- a move that only adds to the film's believability.

Cheesy as it may sound, one of the most essential ingredients in a compelling sports movie is an emotional, involving score. I'm reminded of Jerry Goldsmith's beautiful work, not only in Hoosiers, but my all time favorite, Rudy . But this is one of the areas where Miracle falls short. The musical score from Mark Isham is flat and hollow, without a common theme or a distinguished finale.

The film also falters in the final confrontation between the Russians and the U.S. Part of the problem is that the Russians are built up as a bigger, faster competitor, only to be shown as a dispassionate, generic group of hockey players. Another part of the problem is that the game choreography, which includes roughly 133 special effects shots, amounts to nothing more than an equipment montage. Cutting between extreme close ups and shots focusing exclusively on the puck and the ice, the scenes baffle and confuse us as to who, what, where, and when. And lastly, the film overdoes the play-by-play commentary. Certainly, it's poignant and essential to include the inspirational phrase “Do you believe in miracles?” but O'Connor goes overboard, dictating the game to us instead of allowing us to get swept away in the emotion and the sound of the game.

All too often, sports films fail because of the so-called anticlimax. And Miracle is no exception. The film has many great moments, but dare I say, it's not melodramatic enough. To understand the magnitude of the miracle on ice, you had to live it, breathe it, and feel it. It was an experience as unscripted and unpredictable as they come. Although the filmmakers try valiantly to capture that feeling, we realize it's an insurmountable task, even with Kurt Russell's fine effort. I was only eight years old at the time of the miracle, but I remember watching the game with my father, being mesmerized by the aggressive goaltending of Jimmy Craig, and the improbable game-tying goal from Mike Eruzione. But most of all, I remember feeling complete joy, knowing that in life, there truly was such a thing as a miracle.

©2004 Mark Sells
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