Forget the Titans

Remember the Titans makes one racial disenfranchisement movie too many for Denzel Washington, one automated crowd-pleaser too many for producer Jerry Bruckheimer and one formulaic contrivance too many for audiences. This erstwhile drama isn't as facile as The Hurricane, Washington's most recent picture, or as perversely cheery as Bruckheimer's last effort, Coyote Ugly, but it's still a synthetic chunk of orange-filtered optimism that trivializes the civil rights movement even as it pretends to celebrate it.

Washington trots out his noble face as Herman Boone, an actual figure who in the early '70s was hired as head coach of the T.C. Williams High football team in northern Virginia. Boone is entrusted with the responsibility of reinvigorating the team, which is tough. He's also got to contend with white Assistant Coach Yoast (well-played by Will Patton), which is arguably tougher.

Audiences will know the drill as well as Boone's players know theirs: Conflicts arise, disputes are enacted, bigotry is methodically stamped out and locker-room anthems are sung-all en route to the Big Game. You almost have to wonder whether Boone knows that the Big Game is his deadline for rallying the troops, since the movie would otherwise conclude on a pretty dissatisfying note.

Boaz Yakin previously directed the superb urban drama Fresh, which was as cutting and authentic as Remember the Titans is manufactured. Here, Yakin falls victim to Bruckheimer Orange Curse, which stipulates that the producer's every film be drenched in mellow light, whether the action's unfolding on Alcatraz, in a Manhattan bar, or on a football field.

There's something to be said for this movie's craft and the quiet strength of its performers-Washington has a little more fun than he's expressed lately-but nothing that's not been said many times before. Forget the Titans.