Murderball (2005)

Here's the thing: the guys in this film are unquestionably inspiring. I mean, this film has the whole "triumph over adversity" thing going for it in spades. But then, this is also a film about wheelchair rugby and the hardass guys who play it. So even though there's the inspiration angle, it kind of gets trampled on by the guys themselves -- this ain't no soppy Hallmark thing. These guys are who they are and they don't care what you think. They're athletic, hard-nosed, badass motherfuckers, and just because they're in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't kick your ass. Making a film like that would seem to preclude pathos, you would think. And for the most part, the filmmakers are content to film the proceedings. But every now and then, they'll throw something in for emphasis or counterpoint that undermines the point. (Case in point: the intensely self-satisfied montage on the sex lives of the participants, which is cut to feel amusing in probably the wrong ways.) The use of the non-diegetic score is the worst offender -- I didn't need, for example, the mournful guitar during the climax digging into my ribs and asking me if this isn't all so fucking tragic. Good movie overall, great human drama, but enough with the liberal-guilt overemphasis.

Grade: B