Kissing Your Sister

Those of you who thought you were going to get something very provocative when you saw that headline can put your filthy minds back into the drawer for another forthnight. This is a movie review, folks.

In the weekend movie guide I did last week, I noticed this documentary was around and I wrote that it was apparently some big game I knew nothing about. One of my regular readers reminded me that it was indeed, back in 1968, a big deal. Since I have about as much interest in college football as I do in treating ingrown toenails for a living, the enormity of this contest between Harvard and Yale naturally escaped me. But there was enough of a quest for learning that I was propelled to see the film. And I am certainly glad I did.

These days, I am finding that documentaries are immensely more interesting than any three hour CGI-laden piece of junk directed by some kid who learned how to construct story arcs on an Atari machine. I can tick off a bunch that have captivated me in the past year. Man on Wire. Crazy Love. Frontrunners. And now...Harvard Beats Yale 29-29.

The set-up is pretty simple. No spoiler alert is needed since the end of the movie is in the title. Both Harvard and Yale are undefeated. Yale is the much better team and they are expected to trounce Harvard. But, in an emotionally draining last two minutes of the game, the Crimson come from way behind to tie. And, in fact, win since the tie is their moral victory. Hence, the title of today's post. A tie in sports is just like kissing your sister. Moving on...

Through player interviews and TV footage, you pretty much follow the entire game in this movie. After listening to one of the players who makes a key play for Harvard at the end of the game, you find out in the closing moments of the film that he has just passed away. Bittersweet but wonderful to know that his moment in the sun will shine forever. You meet one of the Yale tackles who apparently was dating Meryl Streep at the time.

And then there's the Harvard guard, actor Tommy Lee Jones. Who knew? Oddly enough, of all the players on camera, Jones is oddly incoherent as he is seemingly incapable of forming complete sentences. He talks about his college roommate, the woefully inept former Vice President Al Gore. During their off hours, Gore and Jones liked to amuse themselves by playing "Dixie" on the then-new push button phones. And this tool ran for President?

The remarkable thing about this film is that it took this viewer back to a time and a point in sports history that I knew absolutely nothing about. Each of the players becomes a character in what really morphs into a thriller of a movie. And it is all real. Another validation that the best and most creative cinematic moments come from life itself.

Watchmen fans need not apply.

Dinner last night: Orange beef and dim sum at Ollie's Noodle with two of my favorite young people prior to a performance of "South Pacific" at the Vivian Beaumont Theater in Lincoln Center.