We have always had a soft spot for North Dallas Forty, which opened on August 3, 1979. So as it hits middle age, a brief appreciation here—not to make the case for the movie as an overlooked masterpiece or something, but as a really fine (and entertaining) film worth taking seriously.
Outwardly a raucous sports comedy, North Dallas Forty is better understood not as a humorous mix of sex, drugs and football, but a thoughtful, ambitious film that, despite many funny moments, is steeped in a profound melancholia from start to finish. It also has a lot to say, as a critique of a particular culture, that continues to ring true and which was in many ways quite prescient—in particular with its knowing observations regarding the rise of computer analytics over individual creativity, the cold, plain disposability of players, implicit hierarchies of race, class and status, and the deep seated anxieties of young professional athletes who from an outsider’s perspective would appear to be on top of the world.
Loosely based on the Dallas Cowboys (Peter Gent, author of the 1973 novel, was a wide receiver for the team from 1964 through 1968), the movie follows the story of Phil Elliott (Nick Nolte) a highly gifted veteran wide receiver. Elliott – an intelligent, introspective non-conformist – despite his obvious skills is in the twilight of his career, an anachronism in a game (and a team) increasingly characterized by a steel blend of ruthless corporate amorality and Touchdown-Jesus gospel. That the business of football is leaving him behind (and, more slowly, vice-versa), is seen principally through the lens of Elliott’s relationship with star quarterback Seth Maxwell (Mac Davis), and it seems not a coincidence that Gent was good friends with Cowboy quarterback Don Meredith.
Capably directed by Ted Kotcheff and produced by Frank Yablans (who was President of Paramount Pictures during the heady New Hollywood years from 1971 to 1975), North Dallas Forty is distinguished by its sharp dialogue (co-written by Yablans, Kotcheff and Gent) and its exceptionally strong lead performances. Nolte, then early in his big-screen career, is a revelation, and Mac Davis, a highly successful singer songwriter in his first film, is so pitch-perfect that for years subsequently when I saw him on television I would catch myself saying “I can’t believe that old ex-quarterback has reinvented himself as a country and western singer.”
But huge credit to the script as well. The key line in North Dallas Forty is some advice that the team’s smiles-when-he-kills owner (Steve Forrest) offers Elliott: “seeing through the game isn’t the same thing as winning the game” (an incisive pearl of wisdom that has stayed with us over the years). To win the game, however, you have to be willing to play it. And as Maxwell lectures, admonishing his friend with similar advice, we’re “not talking about the game of football.” Both men see through the game, but only one of them is willing to play it (or has the star power to finesse its hypocrisies). The negotiation of these two perspectives – and the relationship between these two men – is the essence of the movie—most plainly seen in their steam room discussion about that desperate moment of serious injury.
Ultimately, it is Nolte’s film, and we see most everything through his eyes (and through the game—and it isn’t pretty), in a series of interactions with supporting players. A weak spot in the movie is its notable lack of interest in its principal female characters, who are lazily drawn (and, it might be suggested, indifferently cast). But as we hesitate to dwell on the negative here at Mid Century Cinema, let us close with the observation that the balance of the performances, more than a half-dozen or so, which include turns by the always reliable Charles During and G. D. Spradlin, are invariably well crafted.
A movie worth revisiting, and talking about.
Seeing through the game
You don’t want to get Joe Bob (Bo Svensen) angry
It’s all in the computer: Head Coach B. A. Strothers (G. D. Spradlin) lays down the law
Whatever it takes to get into the game
“They’re the team . . . we’re the equiptment”
