Misunderstood Masterpieces 9.02.08: The Replacements

Posted by Will Helm on 09.02.2008

...or, Interestingly, There Is No Paul Westerberg to Be Found

Unlike college sports, which were featured last week, professional sports are governed by entirely different rules and organizations. Instead of academic institutions, professional teams are, essentially, businesses and, as such, sometimes fall victim to the problems that plague any business. Throughout the years there have been scandals, infighting, and arguments, but, above all, the most injurious of all problems facing sports leagues is the dreaded labor dispute.

With the rise of players' unions, beginning in 1953 with the formation of the Major League Baseball Players' Association, the labor dispute became endemic to the respective leagues, rather than the actions of one or a few renegade players. When these disputes aren't resolved in a timely manner, quite often the result is a strike or a lockout, depending on which side makes the move to stop work. Though rare, these work stoppages do nothing but hurt the sport as neither the owners and league nor the players normally come out of the interruption with any goodwill. In fact, a few very recent labor disputes, particularly the 1995 Major League Baseball strike and the 2004-2005 National Hockey League lockout, crippled their respective sports for quite some time and, in some ways, neither has fully recovered.

Though most leagues ceased operation during their labor disputes, the National Football League took a different tack in 1987. Faced with its second strike in five years, the NFL, rather than stop playing and shorten the season as it had done in 1982, elected to fill in the striking players' roster spots with replacement players, colloquially known as "scabs." Though they only played for three games before the union gave up their unpopular strike and returned to work, the replacement players were treated as equal to the players they were filling in for, even though the quality of play may not have been up to the usual standards.

One team, however, excelled during the work stoppage, going 3-0, and, that season, would go on to win the Super Bowl: the Washington Redskins. Thirteen years later, a film loosely – very loosely – based on the Redskins' success during the strike was released to theaters: The Replacements. Featuring the combined star power of box-office heartthrob Keanu Reeves and legendary actor Gene Hackman, The Replacements was to be the feel-good football comedy of the year. Unfortunately, audiences didn't get that message, as the film failed to recoup its budget in theaters, falling just shy of the black. Even though football, now more than ever, is the true American pastime, why did The Replacements falter at the box office? Was it really too bad to warrant a profit . . . or is it a Misunderstood Masterpiece? Let's find out!

Somewhere, on a boat, maritime heartthrob Shane Falco (Reeves) surveys a harbor. After deciding that the harbor has been sufficiently surveyed, Falco – sigh . . . it's going to be so hard not to do a "Rock Me, Amadeus" joke here – rides his dinghy over to a yacht and then he dives underneath, perhaps to plant a bomb! Cheatum would be proud. Once underneath the boat, Falco eschews an incendiary device for a scraper, which he uses to scrape barnacles from the hull. Ah, the glamorous life of a maritime heartthrob! After finishing the job, Falco spies a metal football sitting on the bottom of the harbor, and he finds that it has his name on it. Literally has his name on it. Not figuratively. Somehow, Falco violates the laws of fluid physics when he throws a pass underwater for no apparent reason.

Meanwhile, at a football game featuring the hometown Washington Redskins Sentinels, owner Jack Warden whines about his players being wimps while Pat Summerall talks about an impending football strike beginning the next day. Dum-dum-DUM! After the game, with the strike now in effect, Jack Warden meets with haggard old coach Jimmy McGinty (Hackman) and they take a ride around the empty stadium, in a shot that is probably far more profound than it has any need to be. Jack Warden, being a cagey owner – as if there is any other kind, proposes that McGinty come on as replacement coach because he and the other owners are going to field replacement players . . . dirty SCABS! Evidently professional sports has nothing on the drama of labor relations. McGinty, being a player's coach . . . which is one of those sports terms of which I'm never quite sure just what the alternative is, is reluctant to take Jack Warden's offer, but he elects to do so after yelling to no one in particular in the empty stadium. At least it's evident why Jimmy McGinty wasn't coaching: he's crazy!

The next day, McGinty meets with his two nameless assistant coaches (notable character actors Gailard Sartain and Art LaFleur) to go over their prospective replacement players. For absolutely no reason other than the plot demands it, McGinty just happens to have a file with the names of players who never quite made it into the big leagues but would be a perfect fit on the makeshift Sentinels team. So has McGinty been a football groupie or a stalker in his years away from the game? The film is silent on the matter, interestingly. Anyway, McGinty's secret file comprises a crazy soldier and cop named Daniel Bateman (awesome Iron Man director Jon Favreau); super-fast convenience store clerk Clifford Franklin (Orlando Jones); a pair of giant bodyguard twins (Faizon Love and Michael Taliferro); and Nigel Gruff (Rhys Ifans), a Welsh soccer hooligan with a gambling problem . . . who is, of course, the kicker. Oh, and it also contains Shane Falco's file as well, mainly because he's great at underwater demolitions, in case that ever comes during a game.

With Shane Falco on his shortlist, McGinty decides to pay the erstwhile quarterback and demolitions expert a visit on his boat and, once there, he endears himself to Falco by bringing up bad memories of a Sugar Bowl gone wrong when Falco was quarterbacking Ohio State. I guess it's hard to follow in the footsteps of Johnny Utah. After jogging Falco's concussion-damaged memory, McGinty then decides to mock Falco's lot in life as a sorry barnacle-scraper because, in his awful coach-logic, he thinks that Falco doesn't want to be a quitter anymore. Well, I guess being a scab is better than being a barnacle-scraper.

Back at the stadium, Keith David complains about the replacement players while the real players picket their replacements' arrival and show their disdain with a few dozen eggs. Though most of the titular replacements are shocked at the reception, Bateman is unmoved, mainly because he's apparently psychotic. It must run in the family. Inside the stadium, the assistant coaches get to know their new players, one of which happens to be a deaf tight end (David Denman), much to the offensive coach's chagrin . . . until he meets the Gruff, everyone's favorite chain-smoking Welsh kicker with a gambling problem. Meanwhile, behind the stadium, the defensive coach picks up a convict (Michael Jace) from the Department of Corrections; hmm . . . I wonder if it's really Michael Vick, "Pacman" Jones, or any of the Cincinnati Bengals' starters in disguise.

While the rest of the replacement players practice, the offensive coach complains about Falco's absence to McGinty; meanwhile, Falco pulls up outside at that same moment, only to be hassled by the striking players, led by the Sentinels' Joey Greco-lookalike quarterback (Brett Cullen), who has his men kindly tip over Falco's truck. Falco, ever the gentleman, is unmoved by their ribbing as he trots triumphantly into the stadium in slow motion. He then announces his appearance to the rest of the team by throwing a long pass to Franklin, who nearly kills himself in a futile attempt at catching it. So, there's a wacky kicker, a psychotic defender, and a receiver who can't catch. Where have I seen that before?

Later, in practice, Bateman proves my theory about him right when he attempts to murder Falco in the guise of playing football; Falco doesn't mind much, though, as he's too distracted by the HOT CHICK lead cheerleader, Annabelle Farrell (forgotten HOT CHICK Brooke Langton) to care about pain and murder. Anyway, while the players get to know McGinty's lengthy playbook, Annabelle leads prospective cheerleaders in a tryout because, apparently, the cheerleaders are on strike too. Anyway, much to Annabelle's amusement, all of her prospects are goofy comedic stereotypes. While Annabelle puts up with a horde of lunatic women, the players break for lunch, where the giant twins, Gruff, and a Sumo lineman (Ace Yonamine) argue about ethnicity. There's nothing like the juxtaposition of football and socio-political debate. Nothing.

After practice, Falco checks out the damage to his truck while Annabelle wanders over, probably to hit on Falco because it's inevitable that they hook up. After a few moments of bonding, Annabelle brings up Falco's college-football flameout, much to his horror; maybe to make peace with him, she then offers a ride back to his boat. Along the way to the harbor, Annabelle gives Falco surprisingly specific advice while driving like a maniac. Even though she is a sensible HOT CHICK, she's still a woman, I suppose. Once at the boat, Falco offers Annabelle a free ride, but she coyly refuses, even though she knows coitus is truly inevitable. She did read the whole script, presumably.

Back at the stadium, McGinty and Falco bond after Falco inquires as to why McGinty wanted him for the team. Tellingly, McGinty doesn't tell Falco all about the secret file he's been keeping under his pillow all these years, instead improvising something that sounds sufficiently motivational. Oh yeah . . . McGinty's a stalker. Before the scene can get . . . uncomfortable, it shifts to the next game, where Pat Summerall and John Madden recount Falco's prior failures, just like everyone else has in the movie. I guess the film really wants to stress that Falco screwed up royally in the Sugar Bowl. Meanwhile, in the locker room, the Sumo lineman eats hard-boiled eggs and then McGinty addresses the team with a finely crafted pep talk that doesn't mention anything about the creepy secrets that McGinty knows about all his players.

After McGinty's speech, the team takes the field . . . and Bateman takes out half the cheerleading squad after tripping on a suspiciously placed wire across the team tunnel. Hmm . . . as a former soldier and police officer, he should've known that was there . . . unless Falco, the demolitions expert, did it just to test Bateman. Interesting. Once in the huddle, the Sumo lineman continues his debate with the giant twins and a melee breaks out, during which Falco gets punched in the face, though he was an innocent bystander all along . . . unless this was Bateman's REVENGE! Dum-dum-DUM! Falco, his concentration perhaps thrown asunder by the errant punch, lectures the linemen about proper behavior and then proceeds to make a fool of himself by fumbling the ball. Oops.

Now on defense, the Sentinels find their lot turning from bad to worse as Bateman tries to kill the quarterback, allowing the opposing team to move into range for an easy touchdown. Back on offense, the Sentinels' terrible play must sicken the linemen, as they all start throwing up; somehow, this becomes a bonding experience, which helps the team move downfield and set up an easy field goal for Gruff. The situation then brightens in the second half as the convict – in disguise – scores off an interception, which emboldens the team . . . until Falco gives up another fumble. McGinty, utilizing the information from his secret file, somehow motivates Bateman – probably through the use of subliminal code words – to get the ball back, putting the Sentinels on offense once more. This time, Falco holds onto the ball, but he botches an audible, which ends the game just short of a winning touchdown. While McGinty is upset by this development, Annabelle the HOT CHICK cheerleader approves of Falco anyway.

Sometime later, at a bar, Franklin plays "I Will Survive" until the real players show up to spoil the fun, not that there's much fun to be had after a losing effort. Nonetheless, the real players, led by evil quarterback Fake Joey Greco, mock the deaf tight end until Falco stands up for his faithful receiver . . . and gets punched again. That should be his fifth concussion for the film so far, for those keeping score of brain injuries. Falco, seeking REVENGE against Fake Joey Greco, makes Bateman try to murder the offending quarterback and a brawl, unsurprisingly, ensues. This really seems awfully familiar.

Due to the brawl, the replacement players – but not the real players, because they can afford sufficient legal representation – end up in jail, where the player mock Franklin for not fighting until he starts paraphrasing "I Will Survive" . . . and tries to rape the deaf tight end. Well, he is a "tight end" and there's no way he can scream, so I can't blame Franklin for trying. Somehow, the combination of a paraphrased disco tune and an attempted male-on-male violation causes a dance number to break out . . . until McGinty shows up to spoil the fun. Yeah, I have a feeling this is all going into his secret file for future reference.

Down at the docks, Annabelle visits Falco, who keeps up with his barnacle-scraping business despite being a highly regarded replacement football player, even though such a thing is really an impossibility. Annabelle, perhaps sensing that her time to hook up with Falco is nearing, asks him about the brawl and then she compliments his offensive skills before she rubs out . . . his bruises. Falco, energized by Annabelle's manual skills, heads over to the stadium, where Fake Joey Greco and the other players hassle him once again; this time, the outcome is a little different, as the giant twin linemen have Falco's back and shoot up Fake Joey Greco's Porsche in retaliation for the hazing. Fake Joey Greco should be thankful they didn't call out Franklin to rape him as well.

Later, in a meeting with his players, McGinty plays psychologist, asking his men about their fears . . . even though I'm sure he knows all about it from his secret file. It must be one of those tests of characters coaches like to do, or just more blackmail fuel. Unfortunately for McGinty, the players don't quite get the gist of the experiment, as they start complaining about spiders and bees; finally, Falco pipes up because he understands McGinty's intentions. He is the One, after all.

At the next game, Falco messes with an opposing linebacker and, remarkably, the Sumo lineman scores on the play as well. Impressive. But not half as impressive as Annabelle's squad of HOT CHICK stripper cheerleaders, who celebrate the score by dancing lasciviously together. While this makes a great visual, it also has the added effect of distracting the opposing offense, throwing their entire game plan out of whack. Finally, as the end of the game nears, the Sentinels come within two points of the opposition with a late score and then Bateman comes up with the ensuing onside kick. Against all logic, he tries to run it back for a touchdown . . . until Falco tackles him to stop the clock. The pressure now falls squarely on Gruff, who hits a preposterous sixty-five yard field goal to win the game. It's too bad that record probably won't count once the regular players return; somewhere, Tom Dempsey breathes a sigh of relief.

After the game, Falco, empowered by the victory, visits Annabelle at her bar, which, remarkably, isn't a strip club, but a nondescript neighborhood tavern. After Annabelle quickly ushers a pair of comical barflies out of the establishment, she and Falco bond over beers while she cleans up the joint. Somehow, the bonding makes Falco all goofy and nervous and, disturbingly, he starts hearing the voices of Pat Summerall and John Madden in his head. Because when I think "sexy talk," I think "John Madden." Although the idea of using a Telestrator for sexual education is too hilarious to ignore. Anyway, with Pat and John egging him on, Falco makes his move on Annabelle and they make out. Maybe this time she'll rub out more than just his bruises.

Either way, at the next game, a probably well rubbed out Falco scores a touchdown on a quarterback keeper. Later in the game, he adds to his fantasy stats by throwing a touchdown to Franklin, whose inept hands are hilariously covered in Stickum. The Raiders' Lester Hayes would approve . . . until Franklin then catches the game-winning two-point conversion without the help of any illegal spray-on adhesives. The hero of the game, Franklin later hits on a foxy newscaster in the locker room . . . until Bateman pushes his teammate over and stares menacingly into the camera. I guess he's just having an episode; it always happens whenever he doesn't take his medications, Morty.



After the team leaves, McGinty meets with Jack Warden because Jack Warden has good news: Fake Joey Greco is coming back to the team! Of course, McGinty doesn't take this news well, as he's behind Falco, rather than Fake Joey Greco. Nonetheless, McGinty does what any good employee would do and fires Falco, even though he really loves the Sugar Bowl failure. In the locker room, Fake Joey Greco is sure to insult Falco on his way out, just because he's a jerk like that. Damn you, Fake Joey Greco!

At the club, the players and the stripper cheerleaders hang out and party until Falco shows up to spoil the fun with his bad news. What a spoil-sport. Falco, maybe just so that the other players forget about him, tries to make his former compatriots hate him, but it doesn't work, as they raise their glasses in his honor. Later, Falco sits outside Annabelle's bar because he's stalking her and then he drives to the docks. Or, of course, he could have been at the docks the whole time. The movie isn't too clear about this.

On game night, Falco watches the last game of the season from his boat; meanwhile, at the stadium, Fake Joey Greco gets booed by the crowd because they love Falco more. They want "Rock Me, Amadeus" and they're not going to take anything else! In addition, Fake Joey Greco kind of sucks, so he takes out his frustrations on the deaf tight end as if no one bothered to tell him that he's deaf . . . even though Fake Joey Greco made fun of the deaf tight end earlier in the movie. Continuity? What's that?

To add to his litany of insolence, Fake Joey Greco then argues with McGinty, who, at halftime and with the team down by a few scores, sends a secret message to Falco via a clueless television reporter. I guess that's another thing that McGinty had in his secret file. Somehow, Falco makes it from his boat to the stadium in mere seconds and, once there, he has the players eject Fake Joey Greco from the locker room. Moments later, Falco miraculously takes the field and the crowd goes wild! Once play resumes, Falco has his offense beat up the opposing defense, if only for his own amusement. With the melee as inspiration, the Sentinels score when some minor receiver runs in a touchdown and blows out his knee in the process. Nonetheless, the Sentinels are back in the game and there is much rejoicing.

After another quick score, the Sentinels threaten to tie the contest and they get in position for a field goal to knot up the score. Unbelievably, through a totally convoluted series of events, Falco elects to fake the kick, mainly to save Gruff from some mobsters in a really pointless subplot. Even though the play works and the Sentinels seemingly win the game, the play is called back due to the Sumo lineman screwing up. Oops. Somehow, there's still time on the clock, which allows Falco the chance to throw the game-winning pass and then celebrate by making out with Annabelle, just because he's Shane Falco, dammit. Finally, McGinty provides the epilogue, which he probably had stuffed into his secret file for just such an occasion.

I know it may seem unbelievable, but The Replacements is nothing more than a remake of Necessary Roughness set in the world of professional football and with a little more humor thrown in. Otherwise, the plots and character archetypes of both films are almost analogous. Both films feature a crisis which removes the regular players from the scene as well as the formation of a ragtag-yet-lovable team. The coach is a straight-laced mentor, while the troubled quarterback has something to prove to his slightly coy love interest. There's a clumsy receiver, a slightly too intense defensive player, and a wacky kicker. Both films even contain a bar brawl between the heroic players and their evil arch rivals. Thankfully, The Replacements subs in Pat Summerall and John Madden for Rob Schneider and adds a little more hilarity into the mix . . . and strippers. Can't forget the strippers. Or the fact that The Replacements is, indeed, a Misunderstood Masterpiece.

Join me next week when I prove that I'm still ready for some football with a very recent release that makes me want to say WHAMMY! See you then!