Blur of action lessens this true ‘Miracle’
It’s about time there was a movie centered on a girls’ high school volleyball team, after a million-plus films about prep football.
This sentiment carries one through about a third of the true-story-based “The Miracle Season,” before awareness hits that high school volleyball is not an exciting sport to watch on a big screen.
At least not the way “Miracle” director Sean McNamara presents it. Matches move too quickly, without McNamara slowing down to highlight the raw power behind a great spike or serve. We rarely get a clear picture of lead character Kelley (Erin Moriarty) setting the ball for her Iowa City West High teammates during competition.
“Miracle” starts with Kelley’s best friend, Caroline (Line) Found (an overly ebullient Danika Yarosh), as star setter — the player who positions the ball for a hitter for the West High Trojans, who are defending their state championship from the past season. But Line is killed in a moped accident.
Kelley’s progression as replacement setter is vital to “Miracle” as a sports story, and not being able to see it frustrates. But Moriarty succeeds as captain of this film’s ensemble cast. She is a soulful presence who reveals Kelley’s deep grief and, over time, her resilience, as Kelley, her teammates and their coach (Helen Hunt) seek another state title, dedicating their efforts to Line.
Beyond Kelley and Line, however, the Trojans are a blur of French braids, with no other player given a distinct personality. The volleyball scenes might have compelled more had we known the girls better.
“Miracle” spends much more time developing Hunt’s character, Kathy Bresnahan, and Line’s father, Ernie, played by William Hurt. This emphasis further impedes the sports story’s momentum but increases the film’s emotional power.
Ernie loses his wife to cancer just after Line dies, and Hurt looks appropriately walloped. Hurt also shows the indefatigable nature of Ernie’s paternal instinct, when Ernie becomes Kelley’s chief source of emotional comfort.
Hunt brings reverence to her depiction of the real-life Bresnahan, resulting in a character portrait probably recognizable to anyone who took high school P.E. “Coach Brez” is that “you girls stop your horseplay” authority figure who tries to conceal a big heart with a stern demeanor.
There’s authenticity in the coach’s belted khaki shorts and in the anguish Hunt brings to a moment where the coach no longer can bear being at her star player’s wake. This moment is the film’s most moving until images of the real coach, and real Caroline Found, accompany the credits.