Elite critics and the “I don’t watch TV except for [insert list of shows here]” crowd love-love-love Friday Night Lights, but they always say things like, “It’s not really about football.” I hate conceding that point because it assumes that football isn’t awesome, when in fact, it’s the most awesome thing ever invented. I’ll concede that in the larger scheme of things, the show is about passion, but that passion could only come from football.
I believe football inspires more widespread passion than any of the other major sports in America. Dismissing football when praising Friday Night Lights, therefore, is a bit disingenuous in my opinion. Yes, it’s really about passion, but I don’t think there’s another sport or activity that could replace football and allow the show to remain as honest and relatable. And you don’t have to like football to agree with that, you simply have to recognize football’s place in America in the 21st Century. Especially in small towns, and even more especially in Texas.
To say the fictional town of Dillon, Texas loves them some football is beyond understating. They live it and breathe it. Dillon’s not a big city, not really a small town, either (it’s never really defined, though it doesn’t seem to be a replica of Odessa, the town from the book and movie that inspired the show). Regardless, the show brilliantly captures the highs and lows that come with living vicariously through the local team, perhaps more brilliantly than did Hoosiers or any other sports related entertainment.
While the show’s qualities – directing, writing, acting, etc. – are many, the best things it has going for it are its characters, brought to life by an achingly good cast. The writers know the archetypes, and so do we, and we know when we meet stud running back Tim Riggins (Taylor Kitsch) that there is a great chance he will blow any and all opportunities to excel and will become one of those guys whose love of the glory days will haunt him forever. Riggins may become a stereotypical small town loser, but FNL takes great pains to show how that comes about. Still, other characters defy our expectations, like Tyra Collette (Adrianne Palicki), who in addition to being hotter than Texas asphalt on the Fourth of July, seems doomed to surviving off of tips from The Landing Strip. But her choices prove there’s more to her than we first realize. Her rivalry with another character, Lyla Garrity (you hear that name and you know she’s cuter than a person should be, and you’re right), transcends the typical bad girl/good girl scenario.
When we first meet Coach Eric Taylor (Georgia’s own Kyle Chandler), he is just learning the pressures he will face as head coach of the Dillon Panthers. While he is not new to coaching, he has been up to this point, a member of various coaching staffs, usually in the capacity of Quarterback Coach.
What I find most interesting about Coach Taylor is that he constantly seems to be surprised by the level of devotion the boosters and the town have for the team and the game, and how incredulous he often seems when this devotion instantly turns into animosity. In one episode, he tells his wife Tami (Connie Britton, who incidentally, is pretty easy on the eyes — maybe I don’t watch for the football after all) that he doesn’t understand the pressure, doesn’t know what to do about the pressure, but that one thing is certain, “I love football. I love football.” This sort of duality makes Coach Taylor relatable for the “It’s not really about football” elitists and the “It’s totally about football” regular Joes.
His relationship with his wife is key to the show. They don’t always agree, but they always support one another. In her capacity as school guidance counselor, Tami makes decisions in the kids’ best interest, which doesn’t always work in the best interest of the Dillon Panthers. When she becomes the school principal, her decisions further complicate matters for Eric, and yet he remains in her corner providing support.
The most recent season was thick with drama and off-field issues, including an abortion that caused a stir on the show and a debate in cyberspace. The only thing I’ll say about the abortion is that it was downright refreshing to have the liberal point of view come from Cheryl (Alicia Witt, trying to look not-good-looking, and failing), whose morals are consistently questionable. When we first meet her, she’s working in a bar, and on the verge of a one-night-stand that is later defined as not at all unusual. Upon learning of her daughter’s pregnancy, Cheryl considers no option other than abortion. When she takes her daughter for counseling, she calls the doctor a right-wing Republican for merely following the law and informing them of other options. In short, she’s not really the spokesperson the pro-choice crowd would choose.
Despite this and other dramatic situations, there was, for me, a serious football deficiency in this most recent season. Ousted from his job, Coach Taylor took a job across town coaching the East Dillon Lions. The poor school with poor students had been closed for years, but crowding at Dillon and other schools necessitated its reopening. I thought the show missed an opportunity to illustrate how the passion felt at Dillon High School might have evolved from scratch. There’s some of that, and Taylor teaches the boys how to be winners, but it feels just a bit empty because of the lack of on-field football action.
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