Sean Burns
One of my favorite moments in Ethan Hawke’s delightful documentary The Last Movie Stars finds Martin Scorsese discussing Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward’s little-seen 1970 political drama WUSA. Self-consciously advertised as “a picture for our times,” the overwrought affair reunited Newman with his Cool Hand Luke director Stuart Rosenberg in the story of a cynical radio host riling up his audience with reactionary rants he doesn’t personally believe, claiming he’s just giving the audience what they want. (What an outlandish idea, I can’t imagine any cable news demagogues doing that today.) The heavy-handed film was one of the star’s biggest bombs. But then Scorsese’s face lights up, noting that seven years later Newman made “the wonderful picture Slap Shot,” which the maestro wisely notes is basically the same movie as WUSA. Except, you know, hilarious.
It’s endearing to see a scholar of cinema like Scorsese get the giggles when talking about Slap Shot, because I don’t know many men who don’t instantly start quoting the movie whenever it comes up. And most of those quotes aren’t safe for work. Decades later, the language in the picture is still appallingly funny and possibly even more shocking, as abrasive as The Last Detail in its articulation of how powerless men tend to express their aggression in the crudest possible terms. For a lot of these guys, swearing is all they have left. Newman told TIME Magazine that he rarely cursed in his private life before taking on the role of washed-up player/coach Reggie Dunlop, boozebag leader of the losing Charlestown Chiefs, a middling minor league hockey outfit in a dying factory town. “Since Slap Shot,” he added, “my language is right out of the locker room.”
That language came courtesy of screenwriter Nancy Dowd, who based the picture on her brother Ned’s experiences playing minor league hockey for the Johnstown Jets. (Ned Dowd appears the in film as renowned enforcer Ogie Ogilthorpe, a character inspired by the real life Syracuse Blazer “Goldie” Goldthorpe, who claimed that he wasn’t invited to participate in the movie because the producers were afraid he’d beat up Paul Newman, but I digress.) When the local mill closes, it looks like it’s going to be lights out for the Chiefs. That’s when Dunlop starts playing dirty, taunting their opponents into increasing bruising brawls and bringing in the hilarious Hanson brothers, who somehow maintain their placid, childlike demeanors even while beating the living shit out of everyone else on the ice.
The bloodshed is great for business, even if it’s lousy hockey. (There’s an old joke my dad always loves to tell, about how he went to a fight and a hockey game broke out.) None of this sits well with star player Ned Braden (Michael Ontkean), a Princeton educated purist who butts heads with Dunlop, insisting “I’m not gonna goon it up for you.” It doesn’t matter that the Chiefs are finally profitable again, or how many people whose livelihood depend on the organization. The owner can make more money by scrapping the team and taking a tax write-off. (Or as we call it in the movie business, “pulling a Zaslav.”)
As amazingly charismatic as Newman was during his early career, you could often see the Actor’s Studio gears turning in his performances. Something magic happened when he finally learned how to relax onscreen. A reunion with his Butch Cassidy and The Sting director George Roy Hill, Slap Shot is Paul Newman’s breeziest, most waggishly charming role. Resplendent in his hideous plaid pants and fur-lined winter coats, usually half in the bag with a twinkle in his eye, it’s impossible not to love this guy. When an enraged oppinent snarls, “Dunlop, you suck cock.” Newman breaks into a wide smile and replies, “All I can get.” Pauline Kael called it “the performance of his life—to date.”
Released a year after The Bad News Bears, Slap Shot comes from a moment when foul-mouthed sports comedies were how America explained itself to itself. It’s no coincidence that the film’s opening credits unspool over Old Glory, and the country depicted is one at a dead end. The rich are getting richer while factories close and our hard-working, hard-partying local heroes are hung out to dry. What else is left to do but goon it up for the crowd?
“Slap Shot” is streaming on Netflix.
