Rating: R
Runtime: 1 hour 48 minutes
Director: Gavin O’Connor
Quick Impressions:
I seriously considered watching The Way Back way back in March when it released in theaters. I usually like Ben Affleck’s work. True, I typically prefer him as a director, but he’s also a good actor in the right part. He was great in Hollywoodland, and despite my (personal) frustration with Zack Snyder’s directing style, Affleck’s damaged but insanely brave Batman grew on me over time.
Back in March, I put off seeing this film because it looked depressing. In my review of The Hunt, I described The Way Back as a “maudlin, by-the-numbers Ben Affleck basketball drama,” pretty dismissive language coming from someone who hasn’t seen the movie! (I was basing my impression on the trailer and in the mood for something more fun.) Still, I always planned to see the movie eventually for Affleck’s lead performance. And the other day I started thinking, “So far hardly any films have actually released in 2020! What if Ben Affleck wins an Oscar for this? I’d better check it out!” (That it’s one of just a handful of 2020 releases available to review is another motivating factor.)
Now having seen the movie, I will confidently repudiate my former description of it. Calling this movie “maudlin” and “by-the-numbers” doesn’t do it justice. Affleck’s character is frequently (very) drunk, but “maudlin” seems to imply that he’s just moping around feeling sorry for himself, viewing his glass as half empty when in reality he’s emptied twenty glasses all by himself. In fact, what has happened to his character is profoundly tragic, causing the kind of deep and lasting trauma that you don’t just shake off or chase away with the power of positive thinking.
The movie isn’t “by-the-numbers,” either. Yes, the basketball portion of the story seems (comfortingly) formulaic at first glance, but I would argue that The Way Back actually uses that well known formula to draw attention to the conventions and limitations of the genre and make a greater point. This is a depressing watch for sure, but it’s actually a very thoughtful, genuinely moving film.
The Good:
Affleck’s Jack Cunningham is an incredibly sympathetic character in whom we easily become deeply emotionally invested. Very quickly, I guessed (correctly) what had brought his life to the point of such ruin. The movie doesn’t flat out tell us what has happened for quite a while, but it gives us so many clues, some far more subtle than others. For me, part of what kept me glued to the screen was waiting for the moment when my awful suspicions would be confirmed. The anticipated reveal of a particular (and particularly motivating) moment in Jack’s past teases the pleasure of coming catharsis. You wait to discover what is so awful. You enjoy watching the reveal of Jack’s trauma because there’s something so comfortingly human in sharing someone else’s suffering. It feels good to cry for him. He deserves your tears. What has happened to him is awful. And then you watch on, hoping for a moment when others will realize the cause and extent of the life trauma that destabilized Jack. I kept thinking, “If only other people knew what he was actually going through, they would see him in a different way.” If you’re like me, you’ll bond with this character so easily. He’s damaged, broken, but still capable of so many good things.
Sports movies are often formulaic. That’s why people like them. They’re reassuring, comfortingly familiar. They follow the journey of an athlete or a team (typically from obscurity or an abysmal losing streak to success, glory). We all like to see the underdog win. It means there’s hope for the rest of us. And the part of this movie that focuses on basketball is formulaic. (I mean, really, really formulaic, as by the numbers as any episode of Murder She Wrote.) Key moments provide heavy foreshadowing. We see what the team is doing wrong. We understand what changes will be made. We know all along which team they’ll have to beat to make the playoffs. We also know (well, well in advance) who is going to make what play to win that game. It’s very clear what’s going on, and this part of the story is easy to watch with the uncomplicated emotional payoff such stories usually bring.
But most sports movies I’ve seen quietly make the case that the sport in question is a metaphor for life. The Way Back instead makes the pointed (and uncomfortable) case that basketball is not like life. In basketball, there are wins and losses (a score every game). A loss this week can be turned into a win next time with careful tweaks to strategy, sharper focus on the game, dedicated teamwork. Affleck’s Jack Cunningham slowly transforms his losing squad into a team on a winning streak. He does this through hard work at practice, insight into his players and the game, and renewed dedication to healthier living himself. He stops hanging out at the bar. He assesses the players’ strengths and weaknesses. He thinks up and executes brilliant pieces of strategy. He makes these winning moves, and he begins to win. But absolutely none of these things would have solved the problem that led to the crisis in his personal life. To change that, he could do absolutely nothing. He could do nothing to turn that into a win, and there was no next time. Life is different from basketball.
I do think the film makes an analogy between basketball and faith, however. In a spoiler free review, I can’t explore this in any detail, but watch the movie and see what you think. It may be that basketball is not life, but that doesn’t mean basketball is not important. Love of the game gives it value. Jack needs to find The Way Back. Neither basketball nor prayer could resolve the two biggest ordeals in his life. But perhaps now he can learn to discover what meaning and satisfaction these things can offer him. Forget what he’s “supposed to” get from them or what others have found there. What can he find? What does he need? What can he use?
Tonally, The Way Back is similar to director Gavin O’Connor’s earlier film Warrior. It’s an emotionally resonant movie. You cry and feel good about crying. It beautifully showcases the types of problems we all have in life (as well as things we all fear very deeply). It also refrains from offering easy, pat, one-size-fits-all solutions, suggesting that though suffering is universal, everyone’s journey is unique and uniquely rewarding.
I’m also drawn to the way the film relies on the audience’s familiarity with the formula of the sports movie to turn that formula on its head. So often we see a movie about someone whose life is a wreck, but then he joins the team, turns his life around, becomes the best version of himself, succeeds and makes a real difference. Jack does “join the team” (in that he takes over as coach), and he tries to turn his life around, but he never quite makes it all the way to the best version of himself. He makes a difference, anyway. Even as a broken, troubled person, he still does good things. The Way Back suggests you don’t need a Hollywood ending to succeed in life. Life is a daily struggle, and some of us never succeed. But broken, troubled people can still do good things.
Affleck does give a good, genuinely moving performance. If he wins Best Actor–great! (I suppose theaters will reopen eventually, but right now there’s not a lot of competition, though The Gentlemen was also full of solid male performances.) Early on, I began believing in Jack, watching him as if he were a real, suffering human, and not thinking of him as Ben Affleck pretending to be someone. It’s convincing work. He’s never showy. He just plays the part without grandstanding theatrics.
The rest of the cast supports Affleck. He’s the only star; the film is almost entirely driven by the emotional journey of his character. That’s another thing that sets The Way Back apart from other feel-good sports movies. As my husband pointed out, those types of stories generally focus on the various players. Here, the team is playing second string to their coach the entire time. As the players, Melvin Gregg, Will Ropp, and Ben Irving do show us some flashes of personality (and even suggestions of personal growth), but we never look too closely at them. Only Brandon Wilson, playing the most promising player Brandon Durrett gets some actual focus and intense development. Wilson makes Brandon fairly compelling, but we don’t dwell on his story. The movie is about his coach.
Aside from Affleck, Al Madrigal gives my favorite performance in the film as the team’s mild mannered assistant coach. (I actually really liked this character, but that didn’t stop me from yelling desperately at him later in the movie, as if he could actually hear my protests.) Jeremy Radin’s team chaplin, Father Mark Whelan (tasked with an impossible charge) also had my sympathies. John Aylward (who always seems to play members of the clergy) plays a somewhat vexing priest named Father Devine. And Matthew Glave (who played Glenn, the world’s worst fiancé of the future Mrs. Julia Guglia in The Wedding Singer) shines as an absolute jerk who happens to coach the winningest team in town.
Co-staring in Jack’s life off-the-court are Janina Gavankar as his estranged wife, overzealous in arranging social engagements, and Michaela Watkins as his critical but loving sister Beth, who grew on me as the story progressed. To me the film’s most alluring character is Doc (Glynn Turman), a mysterious figure who regularly helps Jack get home from the bar safely when he is dangerously drunk. Who is this man? At first, I thought he was a friend. But then he appears so regularly (and only under these circumstances) that I realized he must be an employee of the bar (or else a really good Samaritan). Talk about an essential employee. (Wait until you see what happens when he doesn’t take Jack home!)
Best Scene:
I’m torn here. I love the emotional payoff of the party and what comes after (because I felt like I had been waiting for it, and the feelings are so intense). But I also worry that this portion of the story is a bit contrived (not the backstory, just the reveal).
Also good is the tense (and increasingly dismaying) moment when Jack’s family comes to watch him at the big, important game.
Best Scene Visually:
The disappearance of the beer cans from Jack’s refrigerator (one-by-one) as he descends into a stupor tells us more about his current situation than pages of dialogue could.
I’m also a fan of the way the scores of the games appear on the screen. The careful timing of each apparition always makes its point. I also liked the look of the training montage sequence, particularly the running up and down the bleachers.
Best Action Sequence:
Can the team make the playoffs? I loved this part of the movie. Even more, I loved what comes next. The formulaic sports movie is over. But Jack’s life continues.
The Negatives:
Admittedly, I suffer from massive social anxiety and may misread social cues, but I think if I called someone like seven-hundred times trying to invite him to a party, and he never once responded to my overtures, I would assume that he did not want to go to the party. I have a huge problem with the events that lead to a late complication in this film. For the life of me, I cannot understand why it is so important for Affleck’s character to attend certain events. (If your house were burning down, would you scream for help to someone who is currently on fire? With other options available, wouldn’t you choose literally anyone else? How will you get help from someone without the resources to help you? Won’t that cause more suffering for the burning person…and for you? Now you’re trapped in a burning house and the person next to you is on fire and requires immediate help!)
I suppose Jack’s presence at these events may be necessary for Angela. Perhaps she finds herself unable to resist making an appearance and requires his moral support. And human behavior is baffling. But still, I feel these parts of the film seem clumsily written, an awkward (and obvious) insertion to force the situation to crisis.
I also bristled at some characters’ response to Jack’s suffering and missteps. I’m not sure if to some degree this is deliberate social commentary. (“We have a zero tolerance policy.” Uh huh, sure you do, Father.) To the movie’s credit, I found myself so deeply invested in Jack by the end that I wanted to take his side even when his behavior was indefensible. Still, much that happens near the end feels forced and rushed. Perhaps there wasn’t time left to wait for an organically arising, believable cause of crisis. Then again, Jack has a longstanding pattern of relapse and clearly does need to learn healthier coping mechanisms. Life is hard. Something would set him off eventually, and the movie can’t drag on forever waiting.
During scenes when helpful people try to improve Jack’s life by forcing him into unwanted interactions, I kept thinking of those children’s Christmas specials that teach kids the dubious lesson that if someone seems to keep to himself at the holidays, the best course of action is to (cheerfully) harass him until he breaks! (“Old Mr. Witherspoon seems so grumpy!” “I know! Let’s break into his house and sing Christmas carols!”) Remember, that person who’s miserable at Christmas could be Kate from Gremlins. You don’t know what others are going through. Giving people space is not the worst thing. I know Jack needs help, but the answer he gives to a psychiatrist late in the film pretty effectively makes his case for remaining taciturn on certain subjects.
This last rant of mine actually reflects well on the movie. I’m not complaining about the film here. I’m complaining about the behavior of the characters. And that’s because I cared about the protagonist so much. Good job, movie.
Overall:
Ben Affleck gives a strong performance, and The Way Back is a good film, but it’s not an easy watch. It’s depressing, and the biggest emotional reward it has to offer is catharsis. This movie will not leave you with a song in your heart and a smile on your face. But it will remind you to treat others carefully. You never know what people are going through privately. Life is hard. Be kind.