A Whiz Bang Rock 'em Sock 'em Stinkerooo

Rating: 5/10 (8 September 2006)

I Believe! Yes, I do believe. I believe this is one heap of steaming, stinking poop. And it's barely an excuse that it's based on a "true" story. It's ridiculous to get more than mildly impressed with the achievements of poor ugly duckling Rudy. I mean, it's hard for me to let myself go gaga for someone that is so obsessed with a senseless, brutal, IQ deficient game as football. I played some football in school and never thought much more of it than as a good workout and an opportunity to vent savagely. Any hope of being mentally challenged vanishes when it becomes clear that the 300 pound illiterate coming at you is hoping to introduce you to your maker. The only "smart" move is to run. I was undersized, not quite as much as Rudy, but I at least had sense enough to recognize the dangers as pointless.
Daniel E. 'Rudy' Ruettiger, in all fairness, just doesn't have the intellectual capacity for this awareness, so maybe he can be excused. But apparently neither do the film's creators express a broader awareness in this overly sentimental Rah Rah Cheer fest. Corny musical cues, rousing poetic pep talks, fast cut game day montages are all great devices, but artistic or even social value demand more than making you "feel good." You should be enlightened, broadened, and even — yeah I'm gonna say it — educated; or have you forgotten that this is a COLLEGE sports story. The better filmmakers "educate" very subtly, indirectly. "North Dallas Forty" did exactly that, all the while respecting the efforts and sacrifices made by our modern day gladiators. And to a certain degree so did The Longest Yard, where at least the bone crushing, spine snapping, brain melting criminally savage violence is occurring where it's slightly more appropriate — behind prison bars. And the fact that college sports, even back in 1975, especially football, are such commercially dominated, ultimately corrupt enterprises, is never addressed. It all adds up to just a short sighted, simple minded celebration of a clichéd and hollow conception of a now somewhat disreputable athletic activity. Rudy is shamelessly manipulative; it's cynically pandering to a deluded public — that's you.
People who compare this film to Rocky forget that for many of us fans of that 70s classic, that film's greatest winning quality was it's comical manner, it's absurd self indulgence. I don't cheer for Rocky because he's the "under dog," I cheer because the film actually acknowledges just how ridiculous the whole overblown, fantastical myth really is. I am often laughing AT it, just as it's talented director, John G. Avildsen, intended. The Rocky series immediately thereafter plummeted into a steep decline, thanks entirely to Mr. Stallone's demented control. Though Avildsen received directing credit for Rocky V, it was in name only, as he later complained publicly how Sylvester had commandeered the entire production and overrode all directorial decisions. The fabulous product speaks for itself. My point being that I'm rarely impressed with strait forward sports yarns, especially when they strive for allegorical significance. And even worse, when they're so earnestly contrive to be inspiring.
Rudy is not a total failure because it's a fairly decent story, and it has some clever writing and great acting, particularly from Sean Astin. But the film avoids the bigger, obvious issue of Football's dubious social value, and never bothers to question the way we all let ourselves be lessened by it. OK, yeah, maybe we really are just primitive, aggressive animals, but indulging and celebrating the destructive, inhuman aspect of our natures is just as worthless as denying it. And that, to me, is the better story.