I hate football. I’m suspicious of anything that could be described as “sporty.” When I was little, my father eschewed father-son ball-throwing pastime and instead bonded with us over repeat viewings of “The Golden Girls.”
So, naturally, it took a while for me to acclimate myself to “Friday Night Lights,” a televised drama that, at least on the surface, deals directly with a small Texas town’s obsession with gridiron politics. But to lump “Friday Night Lights” into the same sports-centric genre that brings us schmaltzy movies like We Are Marshall is doing it a great disservice.
“FNL” uses the inherent drama of a town-consuming win or loss to frame the lives of people who Sarah Palin would call “real Americans.” Football is not the central focus of the drama on “FNL;” it is the crucible through which the characters interact and evolve.
It is refreshing to watch a show with such richly realized and genuinely relatable characters. By and large, the characters on “FNL” face relatively typical challenges: insecurity, snug finances, lust, love and betrayal.
“Friday Night Lights” lifts up and celebrates the challenges and joys of life in middle America. There is no mysterious, shape-sifting island; there are no secret agents; there are no million-dollar briefcases. This show shines when it focuses squarely on the beauty of simple events.
The authentic appeal of this slice-of-life drama extends beyond the subject matter. The producers made the bold and unconventional choice to forgo rehearsing scenes. The actors are also encouraged to alter their lines to attain a more conversational pace. Further adding to the spontaneity, the actors don’t block out their scenes, and move freely as the cameras capture the action on the spot. The impressive bunch of character actors mixing this cocktail of spontaneity makes for an irresistible final product.
Kyle Chandler and Connie Britton, as Eric and Tami Taylor, are magnetic as the couple at the core of the exemplary “FNL” ensemble. They ooze authenticity. Their dialogue, which is sharp without seeming scripted, sounds as though it was lifted from kitchen tables across the country.
As good as Chandler is, Britton is the unquestioned MVP in the fictional town of Dillon, Tx. On the serious, I could listen to the husky-voiced Britton read the phone book and be perfectly content. Her deadpan reactions to the stresses of managing life as a wife, mom and high school principal say more than her dialogue ever could.
And that lustrous mane? Well, that’s just a bonus.
To put it simply, “FNL” is just damn near faultless.
Of course, an expertly written and performed drama with fabulously flawed characters navigating the well-worn potholes of real life has struggled to attract a solid audience. In a television landscape packed with psychedelic plot twists and tired tirades of puns, this plainspoken love letter to life in the heartland has fallen through the cracks.
Thankfully, NBC has kept this richly-realized world alive, posting the entire series on Hulu and renewing it for two more seasons. So, take a tip from a sports hater who spends his Friday nights watching a football drama: join the team.
You won’t regret it.
Windmills of My Mind is a column written by a different contributor every week on memories about a film, book, play, song, or piece of art. Interested in writing one? E-mail the editor at [email protected].
