Thursday, September 4, 2008

Personal Best (1982)

Personal Best follows the "true" story of two Olympic-calibre athletes as they meet, fall in love, train for the U.S.-boycotted 1980 Olympic games in Moscow, fall out of love, and learn to live as friends.

Kinda makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, if the movie weren't such poison to my queer sensibilities.

Okay, so Mariel Hemingway plays young up-and-comer Chris Cahill, who is spotted by seasoned pro Tory Skinner, played by Patrice Donnelly.  Tory, who has a good eye for talent, takes Chris under her wing, and helps convince her super-coach, Terry Tingloff (played by Scott Glenn) to train Chris as well.  And, like any good U-Haul lesbian, Chris and Tory are living, training, and essentially spending every moment of their lives together.  This causes some tension, fueled by ruthless Tingloff, who pits them against each other, rather than nurture a healthy rivalry between the two.  In the lead up to the Moscow games, Chris suffers an injury, which Tingloff helps to blame on Tory.  This, as well as the usual relationship drama, helps to put the kibosh on their relationship.  Chris then finds herself shacking up with with ex-Olympian swimmer Denny Stites, played by Kenny Moore.  Come the final qualifiers for Moscow, Chris and Tory find themselves back in each others' orbits and competing against each other for a spot on the U.S. pentathlon team.  They are able to put their drama behind each other, Chris helps Tory get a spot on the team, and Tory ends up making a crack about Chris's boyfriend being "okay, for a guy."  (cue laugh track, and applause)

Oh, Robert Towne.  Such a great legacy of scripts!  What a friggin' goose egg this one was.  Maybe I should cut him some slack on this one, as it was also his directorial debut, but, hey, if you're gonna make the leap, you'd better make it big.  Couldn't you have given your leads a little more direction?  Given them a little more than bland characters to go off of?  Come on, if you really wanted to be true to life, prolong the angst!  Twist the knife with these four!!!  That's lesbiana.  There were ample opportunities, and I'm sure artistic liberties would have allowed.

And, oh, Mariel Hemingway.  So young.  So whiny.  Did your character have any real depth?  Nope.  Nothing that came off as genuine, at least.  Same goes for Patrice Donnelly and Scott Glenn.  Oh, so cookie cutter.  The ingenue who learns that there's more to life than just winning, the helpful partner who is at heart a jealous lover, the hard-nosed coach who can be nice some of the time, but really is just out for his own personal motives.  Ugh.

One semi-interesting sidenote:  Patrice Donnelly was once the third ranked pentathlete in the world, and Kenny Moore was an Olympic runner.

Some might have the gall to call this movie a great step forward in queer cinema, highlighting that it was risky for its time, was bold enough to follow the women's relationship in full, blablabla.  I, instead, like to focus on how far back it actually set queer cinema.  If it shows us anything, it shows us that it is safer, and less dramatic to be in a heterosexual relationship, and that everything will turn out rosy in the end because of it.  I try to stay off my high horse with things like this, but this is just another stellar example of how little quality queer cinema there really is.  I'm just sayin'.

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