The Winter Round-Up

VARSITY BLUES

Directed by Brian Robbins

Starring James Van Der Beek, John

Voight, Paul Walker

The grass. The dirt. The roar of the crowd. The pigskin sailing through the air from one sweaty hand to an even sweatier crook of the arm. The sweet smell of victory. The bitter agony of defeat. Yep, these cliches are the staple elements of a football formula flick.

Does Varsity Blues have anything that sets it apart from the others like Rudy? Well, there's a beefed-up brunette Dawson sporting a manly "I doant wo-ant yo-r life" Texas drawl. Then, there's the new Adonis-on-the-block, a certain blond, blue-eyed, chiseledjawed Paul Walker, a.k.a. Lance Harbor, the star quarterback of the West Canaan High School Coyotes. Unfortunately, two pretty faces are not enough to save this sinking ship.

Is it really necessary, then, to divulge the hackneyed plotline? Well, just for the record, boy overcomes some personal demons (and one truly satanic coach) to win that one great ballgame. Of course, there's the obligatory big speech and the even bigger game-winning play. So when it comes to making a movie where the ending is painfully clear from the opening shot, it's the little variations in the cardboard characters that make it slightly easier to stomach.

Dawson, uh, James Van Der Beek, is the second string quarterback who sees no action on and off the field until the town hero is sidelined by a tendon-tearing sack. His band of yuk-ups consists of a jolly redneck Billy Bob, a Casanova with a strategically placed cowboy hat, and a black running back who's only purpose, it seems, is to fulfill a hopelessly contrived racism subplot. Throw in a dash of T & A, a pinch of pecs, the trampy, whipped cream bikini-wearing blond cheerleader and bring to a simmer in a cauldron of frothy beer.

The only comic relief from this overload of testosterone comes in the form of Van Der Beek's little brother, whose sissy religious inclinations threaten the very masculinity of their overbearing father. He literally has a cross to bear, bows with regal reverence to the barbecue grill and even at one point starts a cult with other neighborhood kids. How sweet.

The other noteworthy performance is Jon Voight as the vicious glory hog of a coach. His convincing tantrums and abusive treatment of his players stir up the necessary antipathy from the audience so that when he's ousted in the end, everyone is ready to cheer his demise.

These cheap tricks are the only dramatic counterweights in this Bud Lite movie. Buoyed by an ebullient soundtrack which barrels through the film, Varsity Blues has a lush palette dominated by the title hue. But the high production values cannot overcome the predictable plotline; the resulting movie is mindless entertainment at its mediocre best.