Anyone familiar with ESPN’s acclaimed “30 for 30” series knows what to expect from the channel’s proliferation of sports documentaries. In each, a memorable team, moment or athlete is celebrated, often with the participation of the subjects, who serve as talking heads guiding us through the film’s breezy, informative regurgitation of important biographical details. Few “30 for 30” segments have been revelatory, but many of them have been great fun: catnip for nostalgic sports lovers and education for newbies who want a quick primer on some dusty corner of sports history.
In an era when “30 for 30” exists, a movie like Red Army feels a lot less novel or urgent. Well-made and entertaining, this chronicling of the Soviet Union’s imposing hockey juggernaut, known as the Red Army, hits all the key points and provides sufficient background color on the individuals involved. But writer/director Gabe Polsky delivers his infotainment payload a little too anonymously; Red Army is slick and too superficially diverting to linger in one’s memory.
For many Americans, Red Army will be a useful counter-narrative to the one we’ve been taught about international hockey. Cast as the villains during the 1980 Winter Olympics when the underdog U.S. team beat them in the semifinals—paving the way for broadcaster Al Michaels’ infamous “Do you believe in miracles?” call and, later, the Kurt Russell vehicle Miracle—the Red Army is portrayed in Polsky’s documentary as a proudly patriotic group of athletes who played their sport with balletic precision. In fact, what happened to the Americans after the stunning upset in ’80 provides Red Army with one of its first dramatic twists. Prior to the loss, the Soviets had replaced the team’s beloved coach, Anatoli Tarasov, for an aloof leader, Viktor Tikhonov. After they lost, though, the government dismantled the team and rebuilt with younger players, potentially ending a great run in hockey dominance.
The figure to lead the emotional story behind the film is Slava Fetisov, who explains that his love of hockey began at an early age when he tried desperately to be accepted into the Soviet hockey academy. (He was initially turned down, but he got in when he was a bit older.) Rather than the nameless enemies we’ve known them to be, Fetisov and his teammates were happy, enthusiastic young men who just wanted to win for their country.
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