oss, Norway in 1892 finds carriage maker Lars Rockne (John Qualen) looking for opportunities in America, where many a hardworking laborer has plied their trade. Sure enough, he finds success as a mechanical engineer in Chicago at the turn of the century, which provides his young son, Knute, a chance to learn football with rough-and-tumble kids in the neighborhood. As an adult, toiling away for a decade at the post office, Knute Rockne (Pat O’Brien) never gives up on the dream of playing the game more seriously, though he saves up to prioritize attending the Notre Dame college campus in Indiana for a degree.

“I could make a first-class scientist out of you.” There, Knute excels at chemistry, which pleases priests Father John Callahan (Donald Crisp) and Father Julius Nieuwland (Albert Bassermann), impressed by the uncommonly older student’s sharp intelligence. But alongside his roommate Gus Dorais (Owen Davis Jr.), who shares a knack for football, Knute instead focuses on unusual strategies on the field to reshape the game. In fact, during a match against the Army, which is expected to be a resounding loss, Knute’s insistence on implementing the forward pass repeatedly allows the Notre Dame underdogs to score, leading to the season’s greatest upset – as well as proclamations of “If that works, it’ll make history!” and “That’ll revolutionize football!”

Expectedly, since this biopic is based on the private papers of Mrs. Bonnie Skiles Rockne (here portrayed by Gale Page, who doesn’t have much to do other than the ordinary support of pleasant comments and tremendous patience), the time spent in a chemistry laboratory is cut short to dwell on Knute’s pursuits and accomplishments outside of the campus. Abandoning teaching in a classroom, the Norwegian opts to coach football, which undoubtedly helps the next generation of athletes, even if it isn’t the brainiest of professions. “You’re helping mankind, Knute.”

Proceeding in a gruelingly routine manner, the film tracks Knute’s role behind the scenes as he teaches his team how to play, patiently waiting until he can find the next Jim Thorpe. Like clockwork, that extraordinary talent arrives in the form of George Gipp (Ronald Reagan), a sarcastic, insolent, nonchalant youth, who is quickly transformed into a respectful, grateful, upstanding athlete after a montage or two of passing and catching and running (and tackling and blocking, as Rockne stresses). He’s an instant star. And then, all of a sudden, the “Gipper” is no more (it’s a shockingly tiny role that would birth a wildly popular quote).

Seasons and years come and go, with recognizable teammates never appearing. The only star is the coach, who proceeds to bark orders and invent new plays, generating an impressive winning streak. What is not so impressive is the entertainment value; it’s difficult to remain engaged in such a generic formula for a story, where elements of Knute’s life move forward steadily, plainly, and uneventfully. Wins and losses feel the same, particularly as O’Brien’s performance stays flat and monotonic (even his “rousing” halftime speeches are lifeless and dull), continuing to spout lines like, “Football is a place for clear minds,“ and “Gentlemen, it’ll revolutionize the game!” And these are followed by additional montages of passing and catching and running. From a principled standpoint, the supportive folks in South Bend are awfully generous when it comes to Rockne’s coaching, certain that his skills (and his spirit) are more important than whether or not they result in uninterrupted wins. As stated in the forward, he was – and still is – an inspiration to those who went to Notre Dame and who followed his career, which is a testament to his legacy and impact on the sport, even if this theatrical adaptation offers up minimal amusement, especially as it culminates in a drab committee hearing, a long-awaited vacation cut short, an untimely demise that mirrors that of the poor Gipper, and a somber speech. “There’s always next year.”

– Mike Massie