My Gawd, I love football.

'Tis a sport that offers the purest microcosm of life: Play as a team--succeed; play as individuals--fail. Those of us who have strapped on the pads and grunted and groaned in the trenches know this incontrovertible truth all too well. A single unit is much greater than the sum of all its individual parts, and this stellar truism is manifested magnificently in Peter Berg's sensational film FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS.

Again, I love football, and I particularly enjoy football movies that capture the grit and dark hubris of the sport, but this film stands alone in its overwhelming ability to portray a game, a west Texas town, its residents, its players, and its shameless addiction to the gridiron to a degree that transcends every single facet of human existence. In a community intoxicated with football, in a culture intoxicated with football, in an infrastructure that lives, eats, breaths, and sleeps football, the 1988 Odessa Permian Panthers are about to embark on a spectacular odyssey that will catapult and devour them at the same time: a magical, mystical season taking the coaches and players up and down the peaks and valleys of high school sports nirvana.

This is a film that garners attention to itself for infinite reasons. A great story, based on a bestselling book. Cinematography second to none, thanks to Tobias A. Schliessler, that gives the movie its gritty, handheld, "documentary" feel. A fast-paced, action-packed, totally believable series of scenes, augmented by an absolute killer soundtrack. And acting--oh yes, some very convincing, authentic, been-there-done-that acting.

As great as this film is, it is enhanced by the talents of the players who bring west Texas football to life before our very eyes: Lucas Black as a scowling, brooding, ultimately insecure quarterback Mike Winchell; Derek Luke as the budding NFL superstar "Boobie" Miles, whose knee injury derails his career and summons one of the most poignant scenes in the film; Jay Hernandez as steady, reliable Brian Chavez; and Billy Bob Thornton as Coach Gary Gaines. Thornton is a gifted actor, but this is perhaps his best role, as he portrays a man obsessed with getting his team to the pinnacle of success--yet disgusted with the one-dimensional, win-at-all-costs mentality of his current gig. Thornton is flawless; he does exceptional work.

Three other characters moved me, and moved me considerably. Perhaps, because I can readily identify with all of them. Garrett Hedlund plays Odessa tailback Don Billingsley--a troubled soul because his father, a former jock (Tim McGraw) refuses to accept his son's perceived inattentiveness and does nothing more than relive his own glory days two decades before. I know so many men who suffer exactly from the same malady, and could readily identify with the character, despite his shortcomings. Yet, at the end of the film, when troubled father and son reconcile problematically, I was very much affected.

Finally, I identified with "Preacher," the stoic, silent, solid defensive end from Permian, played by a somber-faced Lee Jackson. He went through the hell of two-a-days, saying nothing. He went through the trials and tribulations of the regular season, saying nothing. He saw games won, games lost, players come, players go, but still his resolve was not shaken, and at last--during halftime of Permian's game against very formidable Dallas Carter for the state championship--he released his fury and anguish to his teammates to fight and scrap and persevere, the character rose above the din and ruckus to prove, very admirably, how sports is, once again, a splendid microcosm of life.

FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS is a whirling Texas twister of entertainment. The film is priceless; the DVD extras remarkable. This product is quality entertainment, top to bottom. Highly, highly, highly recommended.

--D. Mikels, author, WALK-ON

This is a well-made movie and true to life in every way. I'm not a fan of cursing and sex in movies, but I must admit that even the party scene in this movie is (unfortunately) an accurate reflection of life in such an environment. I've lived in a small Texas town and can vouch for the fact that star athletes (or entire teams in the case of a winning tradition like Odessa Permian's) are treated as heroes in such places. These towns live and die by their football team, and ex-players who remain in the town past high school love nothing more than to relive their 'glory days.' All of this has already been stated by previous reviewers, so let me add a different twist.

This movie should be shown to all high school student athletes so that they can learn that, while athletics are fun and can be an important component in a person's life, academics are more important and will take you further (yes, I know, there are the ones who do make the big time, but they are few and far between). I am not talking about trying to discourage kids from participating in athletics or quashing their dreams, but I am talking about being realistic and having an education to fall back upon. Boobie Miles, the star running back in the film (and in real life), is a classic example of this. The biggest college football programs in the nation were pursuing him until he had a serious, season-ending knee injury. The most poignant scene in the film, in my opinion, occurs after Miles has cleaned out his locker and is sitting in the car with his uncle. He begins to cry and tell his uncle that he doesn't know how to do anything but play football (Miles was shown earlier in the film having difficulty reading one of the letters of interest he had received from a university). At the end of the film we find out that Miles lives with his twins in Monahans, TX (another small town in the desolate Permian Basin of Texas). Interestingly, although the end of the film tells us what other players - Mike Winchell, Brian Chavez, Don Billingsley - are doing now, no mention is made of what Miles does for living. I can't help but wonder if this is due to embarassment at what he does (though, personally, I believe that if a person is a contributing member of society, then his occupation - as long as it's legal - isn't important).

At the opposite end of the spectrum, however, there is Brian Chavez. As a student athlete he had his priorities in order: he loved football, but he made sure that he also did well academically. We find out at the end of the film that he attended Harvard and now practices criminal law in Odessa. He obviously knew that football wasn't going to carry him forever.

We have seen examples of what can happen to even those athletes who do make it to the professional leagues but don't have any plans for what to do once their careers end (whatever the reason may be for them ending: injury, substance abuse, or simply reaching the end of the line athletically). Former Washington Redskin Dexter Manley stands out as the most glaring example of such an athlete; years after substance abuse brought his career to an early end and poor business decisions left him bankrupt, Manley came forth and admitted that he was illiterate. That says a lot about how messed up our society's priorities sometimes are, and so does the film "Friday Night Lights."

Enjoy the film - it's definitely a well-done movie - but don't be afraid to use it as an object lesson for those who prioritize athletics over all else (and if you're one of those people, then maybe the lesson will get through to you). My wife shares my love of sports movies (a rare thing in a wife), but she didn't like this movie because she thought it was "depressing." I didn't agree with her that the entire movie is depressing, but I do agree that the fact that there are so many cases like Boobie Miles and Dexter Manley in this country is depressing.

Ever since Peter Bogdanovich, in THE LAST PICTURE SHOW, provided a comic view of a small town's total involvement in the fortunes of a high school football team (remember the verbal abuse the locals heaped on Jeff Bridges and Timothy Bottoms when they lost the 'big game'?), Hollywood has attempted, with varying degrees of success, to make the 'definitive' small town/football film.

Director Peter Berg has finally done it, with FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS!

Based on H. G. Bissinger's best-selling tale of the 1988 season of the Odessa (Texas) 'Permian Panthers', the film unflinchingly paints a vivid canvas of a school and community obsessed with winning, as football provides the only release from poverty and desperation. While the concept is reminiscent of Tom Cruise's earlier ALL THE RIGHT MOVES, Berg doesn't glamorize the hero or tie things up, neatly, at the climax; in real life, while victories are savored, they are, at best, a temporary 'high'...while defeats can drive rational people into irrational frenzies. The Panthers' fortunes are such a crutch to Odessa's emotional well-being, that each game becomes a narcotic 'fix' for the entire community...a situation potentially dangerous for the players, and their coaches.

While Billy Bob Thornton has received the bulk of media attention, as the stern but fair head coach (with glowing reviews for BAD SANTA, and THE ALAMO, Thornton is having a career-defining year!), the film is really an ensemble work, with stand-out performances by Lucas Black, Derek Luke, Garrett Hedlund, and, surprisingly, singer Tim McGraw (as Hedlund's 'reliving past glories' father). The entire cast is exceptional, avoiding the easy pitfalls of simply playing stereotypes.

At times brutal and gritty, at times nearly surrealistic, FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS refuses to fall into the clichés that marred VARSITY BLUES and THE PROGRAM, eschewing the artsy but smug self-righteousness of Oliver Stone's ANY GIVEN SUNDAY, as well.

This may well be the finest football film ever made...as well as one of the most honest portrayals of life in a small town.

I will be surprised if it doesn't make most critics' 'Ten Best' lists, at year's end, and is a major Oscar contender.

Peter Berg has gotten the formula right!