Coach Carter

Hot air ball: Coach Carter is one feelgood cliché after another

By Anthony Del Valle

It was dismaying to hear a local reviewer on a radio program giving Coach Carter a rave. The "generous" critic said that while the movie was formulaic, it was very effective. It's bad enough that these ancient formulas--tricks that Hollywood uses to push your buttons and get you cry--are forgiven by easy audiences. But when "generous" critics start forgiving them as well, it's time to start issuing cinematic literacy tests.

Screenwriters Mark Schwahn and John Gatins dumb down a true story into the tale of how a tough-talking, middle-aged, inner-city, small-store owner in California turns around a high-school basketball team. Not only do the kids become winners on the court, but they learn how to study too. How? According to the film, it's by Coach Carter (Samuel L. Jackson) insulting the players, making them do extra pushups and refusing to allow them to play unless the entire crew maintains a C+ average.

You don't need to see the movie to know how it ends. The punks become model citizens, like Kenyon (Rob Brown), who learns how to respect his pregnant girlfriend and asks her to come with him when he goes off to college. (That's a lot of sensitivity training in a short time for a ghetto kid who's used to treating women like filling stations.) The team that got no respect suddenly makes it to the championship game. And when that happens, the parents, the other teachers and, I suspect, all their pets weep long and hard with joy at how wonderful life has suddenly become.

Director Thomas Carter shows no particular aptitude in shooting hoops, but he knows how to milk pathos. His mechanics will work for some people, the way any story about a boy losing his dog almost always floods America's tear ducts. And when critics join in accepting this junk, is it any wonder few directors bother with fresh visions?