A documentary that chronicles the emergence of a major force in women’s hockey, the Argentinian player Luciana Aymar, known in her native country as “Lucha”. The narrative alternates between preparations for contests that are part of the 2014 World Cup, sections of those matches, and footage taken from newscasts detailing earlier parts of Lucha’s career. Interspersed between these are sections of interviews with exponents of the game, with Lucha herself, and with former players who know her.
Behind the platitudes delivered to journalists at the post-match press conferences, behind the bland commentary included in the interviews, behind the scenes of the team going to a match in the Hague in the Netherlands on the official bus, what really stood out for me is a sense of the burden of responsibility that was placed on Lucha and the way that she carried it. With teams from the US, the Netherlands, and Australia the main foes, national pride depended largely on Lucha’s on-field performances.
Seen in an ensemble like this, what is in fact anodyne verbiage releases hidden meanings, and you feel how the front that Lucha put on for her audience – for the whole country, in fact – protected her core from scrutiny that might have hampered her ability to function properly. The impossibility the subtitle points to is perhaps the job of shouldering the weight of the community’s aspirations, something that some politicians and some creative artists are also asked to carry.
Sport is a type of affair where the self-regard of the collective plays out over an individual’s personality and character. What is the distance between the psychological state of a player about to run onto the field and the feelings of each spectator in the stands, or of someone sitting in front of the TV at home watching a match? What cost accrues due to an action deriving from this misalignment? Who pays? Who benefits?
This film has clues to the answers of such questions though there are no interviews with official sponsors or with people representing the Argentinian government. There’s also no mention of a romance; perhaps Lucha asked for it to be left out. You couldn’t blame her if she wanted some privacy but the complete absence of such information in a film specifically about her merits at least a remark. Mercifully a low-key affair the film yet feels a bit more like encomium than biography.
Behind the platitudes delivered to journalists at the post-match press conferences, behind the bland commentary included in the interviews, behind the scenes of the team going to a match in the Hague in the Netherlands on the official bus, what really stood out for me is a sense of the burden of responsibility that was placed on Lucha and the way that she carried it. With teams from the US, the Netherlands, and Australia the main foes, national pride depended largely on Lucha’s on-field performances.
Seen in an ensemble like this, what is in fact anodyne verbiage releases hidden meanings, and you feel how the front that Lucha put on for her audience – for the whole country, in fact – protected her core from scrutiny that might have hampered her ability to function properly. The impossibility the subtitle points to is perhaps the job of shouldering the weight of the community’s aspirations, something that some politicians and some creative artists are also asked to carry.
Sport is a type of affair where the self-regard of the collective plays out over an individual’s personality and character. What is the distance between the psychological state of a player about to run onto the field and the feelings of each spectator in the stands, or of someone sitting in front of the TV at home watching a match? What cost accrues due to an action deriving from this misalignment? Who pays? Who benefits?
This film has clues to the answers of such questions though there are no interviews with official sponsors or with people representing the Argentinian government. There’s also no mention of a romance; perhaps Lucha asked for it to be left out. You couldn’t blame her if she wanted some privacy but the complete absence of such information in a film specifically about her merits at least a remark. Mercifully a low-key affair the film yet feels a bit more like encomium than biography.
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