We Are Marshall

Faced with an uninspiring slate of movies this weekend, I looked to an unlikely source to peak my interest ... McG. After some arm-twisting from me, we skipped the new releases and instead went to a sneak preview of "We Are Marshall."

Now, I don't have the animosity that many people harbor against this rather freakishly named director (but seriously, if your childhood nickname just made you sound like an idiot, would you keep it all your life?) I didn't bother with either of the "Charlie's Angels" flicks, so this was in fact my first experience with the man.

And I'm kinda glad I finally met him. "We Are Marshall" is, by force, really two movies in one: It's at once about dealing with incredible grief while also being about building a college football program from the ground up.

And on the latter, at least, it's fairly successful. For anyone who doesn't know the story, and McG wisely assumes that people will do a little reading before going into this one, it's about the 1970 Marshall football team and the plane crash that killed every member of it, along with coaches, pilots and everyone else on board. And more importantly, it's about what happened afterward.

After the crash, which is thankfully avoided except for some seriously shaky camera work as the wreckage is discovered, the school considers suspending the football program, a perfectly sane choice given the circumstances. Into this sad situation steps Matthew McConaughey, in the first performance from him I've liked since, well, "Dazed and Confused" (and thankfully, despite being decked out in 70s attire, he doesn't offer any creepy lines about high school girls here.) As Jack Lengyel, the only coach willing to take on this thankless task, he's obviously more than little off-kilter, and he convinces you that he just might pull this off.

And the rebuilding goes on at a brisk, albeit cliche-ridden, pace. Fans of college football will enjoy it, so McG can at least be credited for hitting his target audience. It's filled with visual clues - the crowd swelling through Huntington on game day, a funny and touching visit to Bobby Bowden (played by Mike Pniewski) - that give you a proper sense of time and place.

And, thankfully, this isn't really a traditional sports underdog movie. Though we do see Marshall entering the next season, there's little of the flashy camera work you might expect from a music-video director. If you're not cheering for Marshall, I don't know why you'd wanna see the movie, but McG doesn't force your hand.

So, thus far, we've got a pretty good college football movie, right? So where does it go wrong? Well, Mr. McG clearly doesn't have the ability to portray people really dealing with grief, so he mostly doesn't even try.

In that half we get a series of clipped-short scenes, woeful speeches and tears. Lots of tears, but none that carry much meaning. The worst of it is handed to Ian McShane from "Deadwood," who is forced to jump through every grieving cliche hoop with the same dour expression for the whole movie (and carry on a fairly creepy relationship with his dead son's fiancee, played by Kate Mara.)

It's this failure to give us any real emotional connection to any characters that will, I think, doom McG's flick in its box-office bout. Two sports underdog movies in one week is already dicey, but when you're taking on a known, albeit geriatric, commodity like Rocky, you need your A-game, if I may trot out a cliche of my own. And this one is a C+ to B- at best.