Cast: Daniel Stern, Dan Aykroyd, Damon Wayans, Gail O'Grady
Director: Tom DeCerchio
Producer: Roger Birnbaum
Screenplay: Judd Apatow and Colin Quinn
Cinematography: Oliver Wood
Music: Basil Poledouris
U.S. Distributor: Hollywood Pictures
At first glance, this looks like a typical "feel good" comedy. You know the type -- where two losers kidnap a not-so-innocent victim, and both sides end up teaching each other life lessons on the way to becoming pals. However, upon closer examination, Tom DeCerchio's Celtic Pride exhibits more intelligence than this routine, recycled plot might indicate, primary because the script, written by Judd Apatow and Colin Quinn, boasts the kind of vicious wit and sense of parody that most films of this sort lack.
Boston Celtic fans are known, and universally despised, for their fanaticism. In a season when the Celtics are indistinguishable from any number of other, equally-bad NBA teams, it's difficult to hate the team or its supporters, but only those with the shortest memories will fail to recall the days when the Celtics and Los Angeles Lakers met nearly every spring for the NBA championship. As a result, there's some satisfaction in watching a movie that, using Boston as the setting and basketball as the medium, skewers the "extreme fan" mentality.
Mike O'Hara (Daniel Stern) and Jimmy Flaherty (Dan Aykroyd) are die-hards in the truest sense of the word. They're the type of season ticket holders who go to every game wearing green and shout epithets at the opposing coach and players. They eat, drink, and breathe sports. Mike is losing his wife because of his obsession, and Jimmy doesn't even have a girlfriend to lose. When they're not at the Boston Garden, they're at home, sprawled on the couch, watching ESPN and ESPN 2.
Now, suddenly and unexpectedly, the Celtics have reached the NBA finals, and the series is knotted at 3-3. Looking for an advantage for their guys, Mike and Jimmy decide to meet the star opposing player, Utah Jazz bad boy Lewis Scott (Damon Wayans), at a bar, get him drunk, then kidnap him while he's out cold. The plan works like a charm, except that Lewis isn't a model prisoner.
In addition to ripping into the empty, one-track existences of obsessive fans (the kind who call radio talk shows), Celtic Pride takes aim at the media overexposure of sports figures in the Bo Jackson/Deion Sanders mold (in fact, Sanders even makes a cameo appearance). This satire has an edge, and that's why it works. While none of the trio of leads turns in a memorable performance, they all fit their roles -- Stern and Aykroyd as pathological fans and Wayans as the talented prima dona.
Celtic Pride has numerous weaknesses, most obviously an overly-happy ending that seems distressingly sincere (as opposed to lampooning this kind of finale). The film also exhibits an unwillingness to divorce itself completely from sports film cliches and conventions. On the whole, however, Celtic Pride is surprisingly effective and entertaining. You don't even have to be a Celtics fan to appreciate it. In fact, considering who becomes the butt of the film's ultimate joke, perhaps it's best if you're not one.
© 1996 James Berardinelli