An Insider’s Review. In the summer of 2003, I worked as a set dresser on the 1950 period soccer film, “The Game of Their Lives”. Directed by David Anspaugh and written by Angelo Pizzo, the duo who brought us “Hoosiers” and “Rudy”, “Game” had an air of legitimacy not often found on the sets of other movies shot here in my hometown of St. Louis, MO. Of course, not being any kind of sports movie buff, I’ve never actually seen the former two films. But hey, their reputations were good, and despite the prospect of hauling large amounts of furniture around in 100+ degree heat for two and a half months, the notion of working on a halfway decent movie for a change was appealing. (“Game” was my sixth feature as a crew member, give or take a few smallish local ones. The most well known prior to it was “The Big Brass Ring” with William Hurt. Remember that classic? Didn’t think so.) And then I read the screenplay…
While not being completely stinky, the screenplay didn’t exactly move, or brim with creativity. Oh well, I thought, at least the money’s good. And let’s face it, that’s the real motivator at the end of those exhausting twelve-plus hour days. But I digress – the screenplay had is faults, but none so prominent as the fact that there was no main character to relate to. “Game” was intended as an ensemble, but the end result is that nobody on screen is ever fully developed as a human being.
The film is tells the true story of the 1950 U.S.A. World Cup soccer team, which pulled off an amazing 1-0 victory over the powerhouse English team (led here by a slimy Gavin Rossdale). Essentially, like “Madison”, which it happened to open theatrically with the same day, it’s an underdog sports story that has the benefit of being true. Also like “Madison” (reviewed by me elsewhere on this site), it’s an unabashed mid-American tale of triumph that was shot a few years ago on location in its hometown, thus ensuring an anxious following in at least that town for years to come. And although “Madison” has a main character to sympathize with, its overwhelming sense of manufactured crisis makes it the loser when comparing the two. Even though “Game’ was more recently shot, it still feels slightly dated, as it brims with a particular brand of pro-American camaraderie found only in post 9-11 productions. That element is considerably more understandable than all its talk about how soccer is the game of America’s future. Here we are, fifty-five years passed the events of the film, and the sport is still little more than a punch line in American pro sports circles.
But that’s not to say “The Game of Their Lives” is really any good. Ultimately, despite the largely uncredited work of the skilled St. Louis cast and crew, the general familiarity with its underdog story type, coupled with the undefined ensemble cast, ultimately bring it down. In addition, apparently after the film wrapped in St. Louis and its subsequent Rio de Janeiro finale (where the Big Game was shot), the filmmakers felt the need to add a bookending narrative device featuring Patrick Stewart in modern day, reminiscing about the team and their victory. I could be wrong, but I don’t remember any of this in the screenplay that was floating around during production. The Stewart bookends and voiceovers throughout are obvious and embarrassing, as one can almost hear the actor searching for the excitement he’s supposed to be feeling in recalling these events.
Although we didn’t have the pleasure of working with Mr. Stewart during the shoot here in St. Louis, we did have such semi-notables as John Rhys-Davies (you know him as Sallah and Gimli), Wes Bentley (the creepy kid from “American Beauty”), and the highly touted Gerard Butler. I managed to make it all the way through the two and a half months of shooting never knowing which one was Gerard Butler. Stories of how his managers guarded him as The Next Big Thing got around. Only one photo, no autographs, etc. During shooting, one of his big blockbusters opened – “Tomb Raider: Cradle of Life”, and word was he was going on to play the title character in “The Phantom of the Opera”. I assumed that by the time I eventually saw “The Game of Their Lives”, I’d be able to pick out Butler. Nope. All those brash headstrong soccer players run together into some kind of nostalgic red, white, and blue blob.
During production, as it became clearer that we were not working on a classic, I often wondered who was the intended audience of this film. Americans don’t like the sport, and Europeans aren’t going to want to see a movie about us whipping them at their own game. On particularly frustrating days, I would ask, “What’s more unappealing than a soccer movie? How about a soccer movie with no stars!” As unappreciative of the job as that may sound, I tell it here to demonstrate the mindset of myself, and many at the time. Film work is nothing if not insular, and it never takes long to start questioning the hand that is feeding you. Unfortunately, on the eve of “The Game of Their Lives” theatrical opening, our governor massively cut the budget of the Missouri Film Commission, the small office that worked so hard to bring this $27 million production to our town. It seems that despite sports being the obsession of choice in these parts, not even a sports movie can demonstrate the boons in luring outside film productions here if the bureaucrats don’t care to hear about it. But enough of our local filmmaking woes…
While seeing this technically well-made film at long last (it got kicked around from one company to another after the demise of its parent Crusader Entertainment, eventually landing with IFC and Bristol Bay), it was more fun to watch the scenery and see what fruits of our labor made it into the final product. During a run-of-the-mill train station goodbye scene, all I could think of was how heavy the antique benches they’re sitting in were, and how we spent half a day moving them across town in our trucks. Believe me when I say, the film is truly laden with heavy things. Our greatest victory as set dressers are the several exterior 1950 city blocks, two of which are St. Louis doubling for New York City. The director’s tendency to use a lot of close-ups is always the heartbreak of every art department, as so much minute detail was poured into these locations, but on the other hand, what we do see does look great, and that is satisfying.
In every film shoot, there is always more stupidity and frustration than the average person would ever believe. The combination of long days and exhausting labor always ensures a certain insanity among the crew in their various departments. The set dressing department was no exception, as we were dealing with a warehouse filled with four times as much furniture and decoration than we would ever need (and we needed a lot), and led by an L.A. crazy or two who will remain unnamed. I could write a tell-all book detailing the often hilarious stupidity and wastefulness (of both time and money) I’ve witnessed and have been a part of on film sets, but the continued need for employment will keep me quiet on that front for now. (Believe it or not, writing movie reviews does nothing to pay the bills.) If my experience on sets of films such as “The Game of Their Lives” has taught me anything, it is not to wonder why there are so many bad films, but rather, how on earth there are any good ones.
- Jim Tudor