Created Jan 30, 2011 04:54PM PST • Edited May 20, 2023 10:10PM PST
- Quality
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Pretty Bad 1.5
Yuck. A big F. U. to the NFL that hypocritically revels in jock sniffing, Any Given Sunday qualifies as a guilty treat mainly due to its extensive use of legendary players. Non-fans should steer clear.
Oliver Stone manages the near impossible: making the NFL banal. He wastes copious star power in caricature roles, gives them dialogue consistently dripping with disgust and employs them in a trite plot full of cheesy melodrama.
Did I mention that at 2.5 hours, the entire abomination is way too long. And way … too … jumpy.
Flag it for delay of game, offsides and unnecessary roughness, to name a few of its cinematic infractions. Woof. Who let the dogs out?
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OK 2.5
An embarrassment to one and all, even though it’s fun to pick out the countless big names.
- Al Pacino: This abomination won’t be mentioned in his obituary.
- Jamie Foxx: Credible if over the top as a frustrated black quarterback.
- Cameron Diaz: Shrill, albeit not given much to work with.
- Dennis Quaid & Lauren Holly: They look the part, even if Quaid was playing a significantly younger man than he was in reality.
- LL Cool J: The guy can act, and appears a credible football player.
- James Woods plays a sleazy opportunist. There’s a stretch.
- Matthew Modine: It’s come to lame roles like this for a once great actor.
- Jim Brown and Lawrence Taylor: Thrilling to see these two all time greats on screen together, albeit in one-note roles.
- Lela Rochon: Always a treat to see this lovely and talented actress.
- Ann-Margret: Sad and underused.
- Aaron Eckhart: Weak and underused.
- Elizabeth Berkley: Sexy and underused.
- Charleton Heston: Caricatured and underused.
- John C. McGinley: Ridiculously jerky in a one-note performance.
Now to the player cameos:
- Terrell Owens: Playing himself, he fits naturally in such a sourpuss production.
- The opposing coaches could fill a wing of the Hall of Fame: Y.A. Tittle, Dick Butkus, Warren Moon, Bob St. Clair (raw meat eating 49er tackle from back in the day), and Johnnie Unitas. Wow.
Finally, the jock sniffers:
- Oliver Stone himself as a TV Color Commentator of little wit or verbal distinction.
- Drew Rosenhaus, enfant terrible player agent, as a TV announcer. Quid pro quo for getting his clients to appear in this hit-piece movie?
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Male Stars Good 3.0
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Female Stars OK 2.5
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Female Costars Barely OK 2.0
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Male Costars Barely OK 2.0
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Pretty Bad 1.5
Classic Oliver Stone: trite, brutal, jaundiced and egomaniacal. All the trademark touches are here. For instance, a coach refers to a player as “Brother Fucker,” encapsulating in a term Stone’s jaundiced view of his fellow man, especially his fellow citizens.
As is his wont, he crafted the film as a hate note to the NFL and by extension to America. For instance, the film’s fictional NFL teams carry such imperialist names as Crusaders and Knights (complete with crosses on the front of their jerseys).
More prosaically, he makes crude and too extensive use of split screening, not to mention using way too many cuts, 3,000 according to IMDb.
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Direction Barely OK 2.0
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Play Pretty Awful 0.5
“This is where the famous rubber meets the famous road.” You kidding me with that sophomoric shit? That’s more Pop Warner than an NFL quality line.
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Music Good 3.0
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Visuals OK 2.5
Hardly NFL quality football action, or cheerleaders for that matter. Why can’t a Hollywood director partner with NFL Films for once?
- Content
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Sordid 3.3
Ridiculously sordid. Silly even.
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Sex Erotic 2.6
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Violence Savage 3.7
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Rudeness Nasty 3.6
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Surreal 2.1
The NFL is a target-rich environment for exposé and satire. It represents the nexus of corporate wealth, celebrity, pop culture, media, sex, race and national identity. Pity that Oliver Stone’s ham-fisted hit job fumbles the ball in making a quality movie from such rich material.
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Circumstantial Glib 1.9
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Biological Surreal 3.0
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Physical Glib 1.5
Jul 27, 2014 12:22PM
BrianSez
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Regarding BrianSez’s Review |
Jul 27, 2014 11:48AM
Wick
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Regarding BrianSez’s Review |
Legends as caricatures: Pacino & Brown
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