(REVIEW) “Don’t underestimate the impact you can have on them,” In a lot of ways, that central line acts as a shadow for a more central theme: Don’t underestimate the impact they can have on you. 

Ben Affleck’s new film, The Way Back, which hits theaters March 6th, takes a classic trope and exploits the old cliche for a slightly new take on an old tale. We are all familiar with the skeleton of the story: a washed-up basketball player returns to his old team, which has derailed since his absence, for a classic underdog journey. But, Affleck’s film focuses less on the redemption of the team and more on the redemption of the coach. 

The film follows Jack Cunningham (Ben Affleck), a spiraling alcoholic and former Catholic as he battles addiction and a sense of meaningless in the wake of profound loss.  

In one rather cliche scene, Jack is shown pacing his living room through a montage of cracked beers. The troublingly large supply in his fridge dwindles as he rehearses his response to Father Edward Divine, a priest affiliated with his old religious high school. After a string of unlikely events, the basketball team emerges coachless and Jack Cunningham is next in line to enlist. Despite his skill and passion in his glory-days, Jack viscerally resists. 

But, after a fridge full of beers, he relents and takes on the task. 

The film skirts around profound questions, neglecting to address them meaningfully. In one bus conversation between the team chaplain and Jack regarding his colorful half-time language, he asks, “Do you think God really gives a shit?” 

While this line is inserted for comedic irony, in many ways it is the central question around which all of Jack’s deeper troubles circulate. He struggles for a theodicy and a map of meaning in a world full of anguish and injustice. 

Rather than leaning into this theme fully, the film hosts religious characters who lack depth and development and fail to expand beyond caricatures. The team chaplain scolds Jack for cursing on the bench, and the Assistant Coach tattles on him for the beer cans in his office. 

While the film tends toward one-dimensional representations of religious people, I have to commend it for including them in the conversation. While 73 percent of addiction treatment programs in the U.S. include a spirituality-based element, these threads are seldom shown in popular narratives surrounding addiction and recovery. 

Faith, or a loss of faith, remains a central factor in many people’s journey’s through addiction, and it was refreshing to encounter a film that-- even  in a truncated capacity-- acknowledges that. 

Despite the occasional lack of nuance and some cliche moments, Affleck’s performance wields a redemptive and powerful force few can rival. 

I was skeptical about yet another underdog-oriented sports drama, but Affleck’s brilliance shines new light on an old trope. His internal civil war--waged between a visceral commitment to a tough and impenetrable exterior and a deep anguish that demands release--manifests at every interval.  He embodies these equal and opposite desires in every dynamic moment and taps into the struggle to ask for help when one does not want to need it.  

The film falls short of perfection, but it acts as an important addition to the canon of similar productions. While it neglects to fully explore the questions of faith and doubt, it does the work of introducing them to the conversation, which is a step in the right direction.

Liza Vandenboom is a student at The King’s College, an intern at Religion Unplugged, and a religion columnist for the Empire State Tribune.