clock menu more-arrow no yes

Filed under:

ANALYSIS: Matthew McConaughey’s new film “Serenity” is a metaphor for the A&M/Texas football rivalry

New, 26 comments

You can’t fool us, Hollywood

NCAA Football: Texas at Southern California Jayne Kamin-Oncea-USA TODAY Sports

True Detective was a career-changer. Interstellar was heartrending. Dallas Buyer’s Club was a gritty, insightful performance. So where does the Lone Star State’s premiere actor go from there? You guessed it:

(Thank you to @38Godfrey for pointing out this wonderful plot yesterday.)

This is an actual movie with actual other respected actors. Anne Hathaway. Djimon Hounsou. Diane Lane. Jason Clarke. In a way, it’s challenging Hollywood’s tacit disapproval of movies that center around fishing video games, and for that, kudos to your bravery.

(Jimmy Gards, feel free to drop in here anytime and give us a Baker Dill soliloquy.)

But there’s something more, isn’t there? Of course there is. It’s still January and we need to feed that #Content monster.

Baker Dill is clearly Texas Football. The island represents Not Playing Texas A&M. Baker is happy in his isolation until who should come along? Karen, his jilted ex. (SPOILER: Texas A&M is Karen.) She wants...well, not reconciliation, per se, but she needs Baker to do something that she will only trust to him. These years apart have taught her that even though she may find a new partner (Frank/the SEC), she’ll never have that original connection she had with Baker.

So along comes Businessman Reid Miller (the suits/the media who want to renew the rivalry). Now, I know what you’re going to say: “but Doc...Reid Miller is supposedly a BUSINESSMAN...why on Earth would he be advocating the renewal of an in-state collegiate football rivalry, something that’s so CLEARLY a poor business decision?” Well, this is the movies, folks. Bizarre shit happens. These storylines don’t write themselves, at least not always.

In the end, after all that drama, it’s all about Patrick (the football fans). His dreams are simple and black-and-white: he does not care for the doublespeak or gamesmanship of the adults in their tangled web of deceits. He knows what he wants, and now he’s taken whatever steps necessary to get it. Really, what difference is there between reprogramming a fishing video game and conducting online polls about whether or not to play a football game?

The cycle is finally broken. Patrick’s goals become reality. But was it really a resolution of the plot? No, because we learn that it was all made-up, all just a digital fever dream that can continue unabated for decades or centuries or millennia with all the parties shouting and killing and foaming at the mouth for all eternity with no real effect on reality whatsoever. In other words, it’s the online debate on whether or not to Play The Damned Game again.

And who is Justice the tuna? Well, that’s Nick Saban: gleefully cutting through the waves, feeding at will on the smaller fish, and riding the tide into the sunset, free from the attentions of Baker/Texas forevermore.