Television coverage of the Olympic games has been ruined, more or less, by the enormous blocks of time devoted to soft-focus, inspirational segments lionizing the athletes. The basic idea isn't bad; viewers want to have a rooting interest in the athletes, but many of them are unknown quantities. The problem is that these pieces all present the same syrupy tale of triumph over adversity, whether that adversity is some crippling injury or genetic condition, a terminally ill relative, wretched poverty, or all of the above. The same formula applies to sports movies like Goal! The Dream Begins, which follows the footballing journey of an illegal Mexican immigrant from humble L.A. dirt-mounds to the roaring crowds and luscious green pitches of the British club league. Perhaps because it's the first in a trilogy, and thus requires enough emotional baggage for two more films, no cliché goes unexploited: The hero comes from a hardscrabble background, has issues with a tough father who has never seen him play, and is trying to hide a respiratory condition.
Goal! still works reasonably well in spite of itself, mostly due to the damnable reliability of these clichés when they're put across with enough skill and conviction. In an appealing performance that makes up in modesty what it lacks in range, Kuno Becker stars as a blazing soccer talent relegated to L.A. recreational leagues while working part-time jobs in lawn maintenance and as a busboy in a Chinese restaurant. By chance, an ex-soccer star (Stephen Dillane) from England sees him play, instantly recognizes his talent, and whisks him back home for a tryout with Premier League powerhouse Newcastle United. Though still rough around the edges, Becker makes the reserve team, but his rise to the top has some obstacles, including his health, his father's disapproval, and his friendship with a spoiled superstar (Alessandro Nivola). Anna Friel plays the hot duty nurse who becomes his obligatory love interest.
How much viewers care about what happens in Goal! is directly proportionate to how much they care about soccer, because decent execution aside, there's an underdog fantasy movie just like this one for every sport. The film features precisely zero surprises—unless a bar full of Los Angelinos cheering for a British club-league game counts as surprising—yet the formula works like a big plate of comfort food, expected yet undeniably resonant. With a dramatic-resolution checklist stretching a mile long, "the Big Game" is a long time coming, but just try to suppress that lump in your throat.