Goal: The Dream Begins

Schuyler says:

“Shoot Santiago! Shoot!” Allen is sitting on the couch watching calmly, but I am basically climbing up the wall with excitement.
This soccer “Rudy” is cheesy, and entirely formulaic, but I can’t help but like it.

Kuno Becker comes off as a rookie actor, but I can’t help but like him.

The “appearances” of real EPL players and the likes of Beckham, Zidane, and Raul (and even Beckham’s lines) are incredibly forced, meant as a treat for true soccer enthusiasts. But I can’t help but like it.

Kuno Becker is Santiago Munez, a Mexican guy living with his evil father, wonderfully loving grandmother, and little brother. He loves playing soccer for his local club, and is a virtuoso. He gets spotted by ex-player and scout Glenn Foy. Foy tries to convince Munez to come to England so he can get tryout for Newcastle United.

He goes, despite his father stealing his life-savings to buy a truck for their “beez-neez”, because Grandma buys him a bus/plane ticket with all her money. He shows up in the pouring rain of the ‘Toon, and stays with Foy in his flat.

To summarize the rest, he tries out, isn’t used to a muddy pitch, sucks, begs for another chance, gets it, does alright, has asthma issues, does poorly, almost goes home, asks for another chance, gets it, does great, plays with the first team, helps them win the last game of the season.

Evil daddy, a few days after watching his soon play for the first time (a demonstration of a chance of heart), dies.

….This movie isn’t very fun to write about.

I’m getting kind of bored.

Okay, fuck it, this is my goddamn website.

Here are some funny things about Mexicans: They are dirty, smell bad, lazy, and as soccer players they cheat and lie all while caring more about how their tricks look than the overall team effort.

Here are some funny things about Mexicans in Goal: They are a hard-working people, shower a lot, work incredibly hard to achieve their dreams, and are a bastion of soccer integrity.

Despite loving the feeling of this movie, I think that the perception of Mexican soccer players is a farce.
As someone who played MORE than a few club games in Clifton, NJ or Orange, NJ or Paterson, NJ…I would know. I would know a hell of a lot better than writer Mike Jeffries (Jesus! With a name like that he must have been born in a WASP nest).

In a stark contrast to some of my other writing compatriots (Cough cough James cough cough Jason cough cough) I like to remove “my enjoyment of a film” from it’s final score. I’m really sorry, but Boogie Nights is not a fucking 93. Nor is Ghostbusters a 100. You may have enjoyed it that much, but c’mon, don’t be a deuce.

I enjoyed Goal an 89/90, but it’s really not anything special. I just got off on a the soccer topic, because I related so much to it. Shown to any other audience, you have an experience closer to Allen’s: it’s cool, but I didn’t love it.

Somewhere in between those two ideas is the grade for this film.

Grade: 80