Friday, February 06, 2004 Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

MOVIE REVIEW: 'Miracle'

Movie explores essence of the era and complexity of characters, not just the 1980 Olympic hockey game

Coach Herb Brooks (Kurt Russell), center, works out a complicated play designed to help his ragtag U.S. Olympic hockey squad keep up with the talented Soviet skaters.

It's only a game.

But the impact of the games people play, as we all know, can reverberate well beyond the confines of the contest itself.

Especially the one that took place Feb. 22, 1980, during the 13th Olympic Winter Games in Lake Placid, N.Y.

That's the day the underdog U.S. hockey team shocked the world -- and, perhaps, each other -- by defeating the Soviet Union's juggernaut squad, clearing the ice for America's first hockey gold medal since the 1960 Squaw Valley games.

And even if you weren't watching -- or weren't around to watch -- you may recall sportscaster Al Michaels' indelible call of the outcome: "Do you believe in miracles? Yes!"

Well, perhaps the U.S. hockey team's seemingly miraculous victory wasn't as much of a miracle as we thought.

Not if you believe "Miracle," in which Olympic hockey coach Herb Brooks, embodied by Kurt Russell, emerges as a decidedly down-to-earth miracle worker.

A Patton on the ice, a stern father who's an expert in the practice of tough love, Brooks whips a ragtag band of college players into a spirited and savvy team able to outskate the fearsome Soviets -- as least during that pivotal Olympic showdown.

But "Miracle" has other things on its mind than the hockey clash that became known as the "Miracle on Ice." (Which, hardly coincidentally, served as the title for a 1981 TV-movie featuring Karl Malden as Brooks and Steve Guttenberg as standout goalie Jim Craig.)

Just as the Oscar-nominated "Seabiscuit" tries to link the scrappy horse's racetrack exploits to the nation's stirring rebound from Depression-era despair, "Miracle" attempts to connect its improbable, all-American tale of victory over adversity to the feel-bad times in which its action takes place.

Need a few reminders of the disco-era disasters "Miracle" cites? How about the Iranian hostage crisis? The gasoline shortage and energy crisis? Rampant inflation? The Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan? Plaid polyester sports jackets?

As "Miracle" so often reminds us -- occasionally a bit too often -- Americans were bummed out. Big time.

For Brooks, however, the challenge of coaching the U.S. Olympic hockey team had little to do with external events and everything to do with his own demons.

A member of the 1960 Olympic squad, cut from the team before the games began, Brooks' dreams of gold-medal glory have been transformed by two decades of experience.

Far removed from his days as a starry-eyed player, the veteran college coach has a strategy to beat the Soviets at their own game. To get there, however, he must mold his players -- wrapped up in petty personal and regional rivalries -- into a cohesive, closer-than-brothers unit. And to do that, Brooks sacrifices warmth and affection for discipline. "I'll be your coach," he tells them. "I won't be your friend."

As for Brooks' own emotional needs, he counts on the support of his seen-it-all wife Patti ("Pieces of April" Oscar nominee Patricia Clarkson), hoping she'll be there for him even when he's not there for her -- which is always.

After all, he's got less than a year to whip his team of Davids into Goliath-whipping shape. And just because they can skate with the Soviets doesn't mean the Soviets won't skate away with the gold medal anyway.

When it comes time to re-create that pivotal confrontation, "Miracle" displays decidedly winning form. For more than 30 minutes, director Gavin O'Connor stays on the ice, the familiar sound of Michaels' voice calling the plays, capturing the impact of the skating showdown with eerie precision.

By casting hockey players able to act their real-life roles rather than the other way around, "Miracle" lives up to its promise. (Among the participants: "Friends' " Eddie Cahill as Craig and Billy Schneider, son of Olympian Buzz Schneider, playing his father.)

With more than an assist from director of photography Daniel Stoloff and editor John Gilroy (both of whom worked with O'Connor on "Tumbleweeds," the director's 1999 feature debut), "Miracle" puts audiences on the Olympic ice, sharing the once-in-a-lifetime action.

Before that climactic point, however, "Miracle" sometimes wavers in its attack -- which hardly seems a surprise, considering the reported turmoil surrounding the script. ("Miracle's" credited screenwriter is newcomer Eric Guggenheim, but "The Rookie's" Mike Rich rewrote his screenplay, only to lose a Writers Guild arbitration hearing that would have given him on-screen credit for doing so.)

For one thing, "Miracle" oversells the societal impact of the hockey team achieving its seemingly impossible dream. Somehow, I don't recall interest rates coming down, the hostages coming home or the Soviets leaving Afghanistan in the wake of the U.S. Olympic triumph.

And considering the movie's almost exclusive focus on Brooks, it could use a bit more of his off-the-ice life -- especially the conflict between Brooks and his sometimes understandably exasperated wife. (Then again, with the kind of winning streak indie queen Clarkson's on lately, any movie would benefit from her savvy, snappy presence.)

"Miracle's" true miracle, however, remains Russell.

In a career spanning more than 40 years, from Disney kid star to often unsung leading man, Russell once again displays the admirably unfussy, understated emotional focus that makes him such a compelling on-screen figure. In "Miracle," he moves beyond Brooks' external quirks (sing-songy Minnesota accent, Dry Look hairstyle) to capture his intensity and single-minded focus, along with the old but unhealed wounds driving him, and his team, to glory.

It's a quietly powerful performance that proves more resonant and far more inspiring than the movie's insistent heart-tugging -- and flag-waving -- combined.