It’s an own goal for biopic of Brazilian soccer legend
|||PELE: BIRTH OF A NATION
DIRECTOR: Jeffrey Zimbalist, Michael Zimbalist
CAST: Kevin de Paula, Leonardo Lima Carvalho, Mariana Nunes, Vincent D’Onofrio
CLASSIFICATION: PG
RUNNING TIME: 107 minutes
RATING: 3 stars (out of 5)
Many biopics, especially those about sports heroes, follow their subjects well into the prime of adulthood.
Pelé: Birth of a Legend abandons that trend, stopping while the soccer player who would go on to become a legend is still a teenager. Sibling directors, Jeff and Michael Zimbalist, who also co-wrote the screenplay, offer only glimpses of Pelé’s greatness, instead focusing on how Brazil fought against thinly veiled bigotry to achieve its first World Cup victory in 1958.
The formulaic film hits all the tired notes of a feel-good story. In the 1950 World Cup final, host Brazil suffered an agonising defeat by Uruguay. Young Pelé (Carvalho) listens to the radio broadcast while spying on his father (Seu Jorge) and friends from a rooftop. That bird’s-eye view of adult disappointment had a huge impact on the boy, who promises his father that he will deliver a national victory. These early sections present a striking contrast in class as well as race: while playing in a youth tournament against a fair-skinned team with nice uniforms, Pelé and his friends – black, brown and mixed-race – can’t afford shoes.
The divide between the teams also extends to their style of play. Pelé prefers ginga, an acrobatic form of ball handling that will eventually make him a worldwide celebrity, while the more affluent team play the traditional, conservative style that dominated European soccer at the time. The Zimbalist brothers’ storytelling is simple. They set up frustrating situations in which Pelé is not allowed to play ginga, only to have him rebel his way to victory. This dynamic continues until Pelé is an older adolescent (De Paula) on the cusp of leading Brazil to its first World Cup victory in Sweden.Pelé frames its subject’s talent as a form of divinity. In scene after scene, unimpressed spectators are gradually overcome by a joy approaching awe and the pattern becomes repetitive.
What is worse, the camera muddles the elegant ball handling that Pelé was known for. Medium shots of his moves obscure parts of his body, so that we never get a clear look at how brilliantly he was able to glide past other teams’ defenders. Greater focus on the supporting characters – some of whom are as intriguing as Pelé – would have made for a more robust film. Jorge plays Pelé’s father with a mixture of pride and resignation. He was also a soccer player, yet ginga cost him his career, so he’s careful about how much support to give his son. In the role of Brazil’s World Cup coach, D’Onofrio brings a slow-burn frustration with the superiority complex of his team’s Swedish opponents, supplying Pelé with its most moving scene. The locker-room speech might not be that rousing, but it’s the coach’s character that inspires his team to a deeper, moral victory.
In real life, Pelé led a rich life after that 1958 victory, filling a role halfway between athletic superstar and worldwide ambassador. Yet he was not immune to controversy, having been investigated by the Brazilian government for associating with leftist groups. None of this is in the film, however. Pelé is too earnest and single-minded to be hagiographic, and the final moments are moving in spite of their predictability. The story of Brazilian soccer’s ascension to the world stage is a remarkable one, and the film would have benefited if the Zimbalists had found a way to add a bit of depth, or even doubt, to the legend. – The Washington Post
If you liked Race or Eddie the Eagle, you will like this.