Cliff (surly Oliver Tobias) is the super-terrific quarterback of some unnamed
football team, and as Fabrizio DeAngelis’
(under the super-terrific nom de guerre Larry
Ludman) The Last Match (aka L’ultima Meta) opens, he somehow manages
to pull a super-terrific win against another unnamed team out of his ass (not
that any of this is shown in any coherent fashion), all while super-terrific
Coach Keith (the ever-enthusiastic Ernest
Borgnine) cheers him on from the sidelines.
Shortly thereafter, and for absolutely no discernible reason, some
anonymous guy slips drugs into the handbag of Cliff’s daughter Suzy (the
super-terrifically cute Melissa
Palmisano), who has been vacationing in the Dominican Republic with her
super-terrifically overstimulated boyfriend George (Robert Floyd). Suzy is taken
to the not-so-super-terrific prison governed by Warden Yachin (Henry Silva), and after Cliff kind
of/sort of runs into nothing but red tape, he decides that his only option is
to bust his little girl out. In his
football uniform.
Sports films are typically about
the triumph of the human spirit. It is
less important that the protagonist emerges victorious in whatever athletic
field in which they are engaged than it is that he/she overcomes his/her inner
demons and character flaws to become a stronger person in the process (Exhibit
A: Rocky). Audiences love to cheer on the underdog,
because they identify with the archetype.
Everyone feels like they’re up against seemingly insurmountable odds at
some point or another. Not being a
sports fan, you would think that sports films wouldn’t appeal to me, but the
plain fact is that they do, and this is because of what I mentioned above. The best in this genre play to a broad
audience that transcend the sports aspects.
If anything, the actual sports in
a sports film usually play like the fights in an action film or the finale of a
horror film. In the good ones, they are the
delicious gravy on the meat of character development and thematic
exploration. In the bad ones, they are
filler designed to distract you from the film’s innate shortcomings. It’s kind of rare that we get a sports film
where the athletes are on top and stay on top from beginning to end. After all, where’s the excitement in
that? What’s the point if the protagonist(s)
never have to rise above mighty hardships?
This, then, is the primary reason why The Last Match is a dud. We’re
told (but not until the film’s end) that Cliff’s team starts off poorly in
every game, but they always manage to turn it around and win. As previously hinted, the football games are
edited in such a random manner (by Adriano
Tagliavia, under the super-terrifically-on-the-nose pseudonym Adrian Cut; get it?), we never see
Cliff’s team go through this supposed struggle, because we’re never one hundred
percent certain what the hell is going on at all. In fact, I would go so far as stating that
the only shots that make any sense in these sequences are those of Coach Keith
doing his coaching thing and those of the cheerleaders doing their cheerleading
thing. We have to take it as writ that
Cliff’s team are all winners all the time, which is great if you bet on their
games, but it doesn’t work for a film, even one that’s not strictly about
football (despite the inordinate amount of time devoted to showing football
games onscreen).
Football players are often
likened to modern day gladiators; warriors who do battle on a field of honor
(we’re talking theoretically here).
Consequently, they tend to be depicted in fictive works as large,
scowling thugs (sometimes with a heart of gold, if the classic “Mean” Joe Green Coca-Cola commercial
has taught us anything at all).
Nevertheless, this doesn’t really work on film, unless their purpose is
as either henchmen or cannon fodder (and make no mistake, the majority of
Cliff’s team are exactly that, though I don’t recall any of them getting so
much as grazed by a bullet with one exception).
The sports film protagonist needs to have something with which viewers
can connect, even if they’re not very nice people (Exhibit B: Raging Bull). This is the secondary reason why The Last Match is a clunker. Cliff, as essayed by Tobias, is one of the most miserable pricks I’ve seen as the
protagonist in a film in quite a while.
He mildly tolerates everyone with whom he comes into contact. He is aloof to the point of apathy, even when
talking with his daughter, who we have to take it on faith that he loves since
he goes through all this hassle to help her out (watch his non-reaction to the
injury of one of his pals which is discovered, predictably, on the plane ride
home, if the rest of the mountain of evidence in the film up to that point
doesn’t convince you). He is
condescending, even to the people who are on his side (including, but not
limited to, a perfectly wasted Martin
Balsam). When a character who
previously gave Cliff shit (justifiably or not) suddenly pops up and says he
wants to talk, Cliff instantly whoops the man’s ass (justifiably or not) rather
than hear even one word he has to say.
While we certainly feel for Suzy to some extent or another, Cliff is
nothing but a curmudgeon, the blunt, dull instrument this film uses to bang
square pegs into round holes.
The film is also adamant in its
depiction of the local populace. The
Dominicans in The Last Match HATE
Americans (I don’t think any Dominican ever refers to any non-Dominican
characters by their actual names; it’s always as “American”). One of Suzy’s jailers states “nothing is
denied you people in my country.” Yachin
basically tells Cliff point blank that he’s banging Cliff’s daughter and
throwing it in his face simply because Cliff and Suzy are Americans. Whether or not this enmity is warranted, the
filmmakers waste even less time jumping to portray Dominicans as base creatures
and their nation as a corrupt hellhole (though I don’t think it has to be
Dominicans; I’m sure just about any non-white country/populace would suffice
for the filmmakers). Suzy is stripped and
searched after her arrest, and we get reaction shots of the male guards ogling
her like wolves eyeing up a lame deer. Balsam’s character states, “Nobody of
any importance ever comes to this godforsaken part of the world.” A
character wants Cliff and his pals to take his son out of the country with
them, because he knows just how horrible it is living there. We’ve definitely seen these sorts of
attitudes before in genre films, but ordinarily they aren’t so pointed, so
mean, as they are here.
Finally, the film’s climax seems
to miss its own point. Even while we
look forward to the assault on the prison, it doesn’t play out satisfyingly. The only standout to the affair is that the
good guys all wear their uniforms (which boggles the mind if they weren’t
looking to be recognized and/or cause an international incident). After all of the relentless dourness that
comes before it, the film needed a win in this regard, but it’s as joyless as
everything and everyone else in the film, and it robs it of what appeal it may
have had.
MVT: Borgnine gives it a lot of gusto, but he’s the one brightly
over-ebullient spot in an otherwise moribund picture.
Make or Break: When Yachin
receives his comeuppance, it’s anticlimactic in just about every respect. Silva
(and the audience) deserve better.
Score: 4.5/10