At the Gaslight

Rated PG

Grade B-

Twice during the 1970s a plane crash killed most members of a sports team.

In 1970, a crash in West Virginia killed 37 members of the Marshall football team plus all the coaches. In 1977, a crash killed the entire Evansville College basketball team.

As a sports fan, I remember the chilling news reports of both tragedies.

Plane crashes are always tragic, but somehow knowing that a group of friends from the same campus have all died in one accident deepens the pain. We are less able to compartmentalize the deaths and move on with life. Instead, the tragedy lingers.

I followed both Marshall and Evansville for some time afterward.

“We Are Marshall” is the story of that Marshall tragedy in Huntington, W. Va.

Let’s start with the simple truth: It’s an average film at best — neither cast nor crew will be thinking Oscar. Matthew McConaughey, for example, dubbed the sexiest man alive by “People” magazine, proves conclusively that he is indeed cute. Not much else is proven.

The director is McG, the filmmaker once known as Joseph McGinty Nichol. I guess after you direct “Charlie’s Angels,” it’s time for the witness-protection program. His direction is, well, less than heavenly. Routine perhaps best sums it up.

But despite a “phoned it” overall quality, “Marshall” is still compelling because it is sincere and because it is more-or-less factual. And it minimizes the melodrama.

The film’s concluding game against Xavier, for example, was portrayed as the first home game after the tragedy. The home Marshall team wins a thriller in the final second.

OK, let’s look that up, I thought, cynically.

To the film’s credit, the score was indeed 15-13 and the last-second winning play was memorable. The film even concedes that the comeback season was mostly a disaster, and that the team spent the decade losing. For a Hollywood film to let losses be losses is startling, and even a touch courageous.

What’s interesting is that the film actually tones down the Xavier game’s finish, making the ending less dramatic than it was. The actual winning play wasn’t a medium-length pass to the end zone but, an 87-yard bootleg screen that fooled the entire Xavier defense.

In a story carried the Web site “rivals.com” Xavier lineman Tim Albers remembers the play all too vividly.

“They threw that screen pass, and I didn’t think it was going to go anywhere because there were five or six guys that I thought would have a play on it,” Albers said. “It was just amazing. It was a perfect play, where everybody got their block and that whole side of the defense was taken out of the play, and the guy ran for a touchdown.”

Another Xavier player, Bill Howe, recalled seeing wreaths in the end zone when he arrived.

“The coaches tried to warn us, but I’m not sure it really registered until we arrived at the stadium. There were (memorial) wreaths in the end zone. It was a full house. It was pretty emotional over there.”

To the film’s credit, the story focuses on the emotions more than on the Xs and Os. We are watching a small campus in a small town trying to recover from a stunning loss.

A key character is a cheerleader whose fiancé died on the plane. She keeps wearing the ring, and turns down dates. That boy’s father is angry and grief-stricken, and slow to heal.

One of the assistant coaches, who stepped off the plane at the last minute so he could visit some local recruits, feels deeply guilty that he was not on board. A player who overslept the flight is also ripped apart inside.

It’s easy to empathize with people going through such tough times. The script’s decision to focus on those interior battles, rather than to make this simply a “win one for the Gipper” tale was wise.

And the story is undeniable touching. To see students cheering “We are…Marshall!” after the loss of their team is both heartwarming and heartbreaking. To see the cheerleader come to watch the game is almost spiritual.

A visit to Bobby Bowden, West Virginia’s coach, was a highlight, too. The Marshall coaches ask Bowden if he will teach them how to run the Veer offense — a Bowden trademark. Bowden, knowing the situation, laughs and gives them total access to his film library — and his moral support as well. West Virginians pull together.

The celebration after the upset win is wild and out of proportion. But those who watched totally understood.

The final credits include news footage from that year. One billboard says simply, “the Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.”

For the Southerners of simple faith living in rural West Virginia that billboard said it all.