REVIEW: NEXT GOAL WINS. Even Ted Lasso might believe.

My earliest experience with soccer occurred when I was in the fifth grade. My teacher - we'll call him Mr. T (not to be confused w/an "A" Team icon) - was a soccer fanatic. Every day at recess, every week at gym class, he ran us through a series of soccer drills. I was a shy kid, reluctant to raise my hand in class even when I knew the answer, and Mr. T was determined to bring me out of my shell.

So he made me the goalie. I felt like I was put in front of a firing squad each time we played, as all the 11 year-old boys in my class came barreling down upon me, trying to score. If only I'd had that scenario a few years later, at least the thought of a dozen boys angling to score with me, but that's another story for another movie.

Suffice to say that soccer has never been my sport. Not even when I coached cheerleaders years later as a high school history teacher (don't ask) and wound up accompanying them to support the junior varsity soccer team. Or even now when my husband watches soccer almost every day. Premier league. Club teams. World Cup. You name it. He watches it. And while I've learned a bit about the game and have maybe gained a modicum of appreciation for it, I can't say that I'll ever be an enthusiastic "ultra footballer."

Next Goal Wins, director/co-writer Taika Waititi's latest film, is based on the true story - and a 2014 documentary of the same name - of the long-beleaguered American Samoan soccer team that lost 31-0 in a 2001 World Cup soccer game (that's really bad for you non-soccer fans) and, ten years later, was still desperate to score a goal. Yes, that's correct. The team just wanted to score one goal. Low expectations? Not really. Just Samoan culture.

Enter Dutch American Thomas Rongen, a soccer coach with a losing record, who is forced (or be fired) to take on the American Samoan team and to produce a winner (or something), though remember, all the Samoans want is to score one goal. After a quick recap of the Samoans' pathetic record and Rongen's dubious reputation, we're off and running with the usual sports underdog movie cliches: clueless players, devoted fans, owners secretly hoping they'll continue to lose, and a gruff, angry coach who drinks too much and whose brusque behavior masks an inner sadness we'll discover later.

Two components added here are the obvious cultural clash between the team and Rongen - they are laid back and unfamiliar with the kinds of disciplined practice drills and game strategies he employs. Conflicts ensue, though Waititi never quite utilizes the cultural differences in ways that are completely funny or compelling. Jokes often fall flat. But then comedy is tricky. Timing is essential, and Waititi never quite finds the rhythm between heartfelt and humorous in telling this story.

Finally, there is the trans-gender player Jaiyah Saelua (Kaimana), the first openly non-binary footballer to play in a FIFA World Cup qualifier. Kaimana's thoughtful and touching performance reminded me of Jaye Davidson in 1992's The Crying Game, one that emphasizes both their inner struggle and a quiet kind of courage to be themselves. I would have loved to learn more about the real Jaiyah, but that's hard to do in an hour and forty-five minute format. Here is an example of where a TV series, like Ted Lasso, can take the individual team players and develop a character and a story over time, where Waititi is confined by the medium and doesn't seem to know what he should focus on.

For instance, the people of American Samoa all have multiple jobs: the camera man for a local news show is president of the American Samoan Soccer Federation. He also runs a local restaurant. Likewise, the seemingly sole police officer becomes a kicker for the soccer team. Comments are dropped now and again about the small population and the need for people to "pitch in," but nothing more is developed. The only part of the American Samoan society that we see are the soccer players. The rest of the community is kind of a blur. Given that Waititi's previous films, including 2019's much-honored but controversial JoJo Rabbit, tended to be good at emphasizing universal, sometimes perverse absurdities (the little boy in JoJo Rabbit conjured up Hitler as an imaginary friend), I had hopes that he would bring some of his unconventional perspective here, but he seems overwhelmed by the layers embedded in this momentarily uplifting story and uncertain how to bring them together.

And then there is Michael Fassbender, twice nominated for an Oscar - a supporting nom for12 Years a Slave and actor for Steve Jobs - who some critics have argued is miscast here. I would disagree. Though he is known for taking on more serious, sometimes shocking characters (his role in 2011's Shame, about a man struggling with sex addiction, contained full frontal nudity which, some claimed, lost him an Oscar nomination that year because Academy members were reportedly too busy fantasizing and not voting), Fassbender is a dead ringer for Rongen and exudes the necessary physicality of a washed-up, wannabe athlete and, as is ultimately revealed, a grieving father. I'm not sure if the film's editing eliminated some important moments in his character's journey, as his evolution from rude outsider to compassionate friend is choppy and awkward. That's not necessarily Fassbender's fault. I suspect some of the nuances of his performance may have gotten lost in post-production.

Overall, Next Goal Wins is entertaining. If you love soccer, you'll appreciate the true story that is the movie's core. If you're not a huge soccer fan, there are plenty of other distractions to enjoy, even if the ultimate result for Rongen and the team gets lost a bit at the end. Director Waititi misses a couple of great opportunities to explore both cultural distinctions, gender issues, and the importance of soccer as a global unifier. In a trailer for the film, Waititi (who has a bit part as a goofy priest) admits that he knew little about soccer before making Next Goal Wins and even less afterward. (Insert laugh.)

Unfortunately, some of that confusion winds up in the final print of the movie.

Ted Lasso, would you believe?