The opening is perfect, with Nick Nolte's football pro waking up with a bloody nose and feeling every hit from the night before as he tries to navigate the kitchen. The ending is awful, with Duddy Kravitz (and, er, First Blood) director Kotcheff channeling Stanley Kramer in a big speechifying boardroom rigamarole. In between is a pretty fair expose of the business of American sports, with the players ENCOURAGED to remain stupid childish louts so they'll be easier to manage. Unfortunately this movie really wants it both ways on the gender thing - the Smart Girl who rescues Nolte from the daily grind is just a device to facilitate domestic bliss, nothing new there. And condemnations of misogynist violence are married to gratuitous boob shots. Not at all as bad as that makes it sound, but when I recall this movie I remember the lapses, not the many nice touches in between.
Review of North Dallas Forty
