“People are saying you’re a waste of money. A WASTE OF MONEY!”

Anthony’s rating: Five elbows up

Anthony’s review: Let me start by explaining to anyone NOT from Canada the meaning of our national mantra “Elbows Up.” It’s a purely hockey term, and hockey is still nothing short of a religion in Canada and has been for over a century. In layman’s terms, it means that if the other team starts playing dirty and become unnecessarily rough, your play with your elbows raised so that the player who wants to f**k around will find out with his face, neck, and chest. Okay that came out wrong but you understand.

And that is the perfect metaphor to who Maurice Richard was. Any story about him has to be one of resilience, talent, history and, yes, politics. And if like me you like your movies purely entertaining, fear not: The strength of this one is its ability to be all of that while being a very potent, important and a still relevant lesson in North American history.

The Rocket follows Richard, a diffident but scrappy kid from Montreal who grew up, like all kids did there back then, playing hockey every single chance he gets. But Maurice has a clear disadvantage: He’s a Frenchie, and Frenchies aren’t exactly welcome in the pros. So he does what every Frenchie does, which is to get himself a job in a factory, start a little family, and let life take its course.

Except that this Frenchie can take a hit as much on the ice as in real life, so he keeps working on his game until he gets a spot in a tryout for the mighty Montreal Canadiens hockey team. Walking out with a contract, he still has his work cut out for him. This is because head coach, the legendary Dick Irvin, won’t get him a chance to prove himself. And when Richard gets inured quickly, the outlook really isn’t good. You wanna know the rest? Watch the movie.

And why, you may ask, should you watch? Because Rocket Richard’s story is nothing short of incredible. This movie gives justice to each of his challenges, every one of his implausible accomplishments, and all of the struggles that life and the league threw at him to become not only one of the greatest athletes of the 20th century, but an icon who paved the way for an entire culture to rise up and stand their ground against constant abuse and discrimination.

Let me put it this way: Every unbelievable moment of his life that the movie showcases did happen — and did so as laid out. The fight with a New York goon who can barely skate, the night he played after moving into a new home on his own without help, the incident with the corrupt ref, the city-wide riots that only he could end, it all happened.

Director Charles Binamé, admittedly a favorite of mine, does a beautiful job letting history relate itself. This is a movie made on a Canadian budget, meaning “not much,” yet the sets and wardrobe and overall ambiance is remarkably high quality. And though it may not boast having some huge name on the marquee, everyone on screen knows the subject is sacro-saint and gives as solid a performance as you would see in any Oscar-bait American movie. To us Quebecers, they are huge names, but the enjoyment we have watching them will be none the lesser for anyone else, they all came to pay their respect to a legend and it shows.

One of the aspects I appreciate the most of The Rocket is profusely using both languages that were — and still are — used throughout all those events. Coach Irvin, played deliciously by homegrown great Stephen McHattie, gets a lot of lines and says pretty much all of them in English, while most French Canadians use their own parlance unless they have to interact with the “other solitude.”

If anything, casual viewers can easily learn from it why both cultures have been at each other’s throats for so long. It took someone like Richard to force a change, the kind of change the movie displays with Irvin himself who at some point has to acknowledge that he too should make the type of efforts he requires from his guys.

The one beef I have with the film, which I previously brushed here in a Mutant Roundtable about movies that did historical figures dirty, is that although headliner Roy Dupuis, known to 1990s TV audiences as Michael to TV’S La Femme Nikita, does an incredible job of disappearing inside the legendary hockey player, he’s still impossibly handsome. Which, let’s be honest, Richard was not.

While Dupuis can get many panties to be dropped just by reading the friggin’ phone book, Rocket’s collectible cards photos looked like the mugshots of a mob enforcer. He didn’t become a national treasure because of his charms, he was a steel mill laborer whose stance on the ice would have made baby Gretzky soil his trousers. I wish THAT would have been depicted accurately to show how he overcame that obstacle as well. But then again, I myself look like Humpty Dumpty’s lesser-known cousin Tooka, and if Brad Pitt wants to play me I’ll be fine with it.

Intermission!

• Heck, even the kid playing Richard as a teen looks like he’s in a boy band. The dude perpetually looked like someone called his mother a Maple Leafs player!
• The hardass father-in-law who objects to Maurice marrying his daughter is played by the wimp from the beer-league movie Les Boys. Just FYI so you’re all in on the joke.
• “I need players who HATE to lose!” “I hate to lose Mr. Irvin!” “No you don’t.” I can’t imagine anyone else than McHattie playing Dick Irvin!
• The first locker room scene is impressive if you’re an NHL fan. Lots of actual NHL players portraying legends whose stick they are not worthy of getting hit in the face with.
• I actually spent my teenage playing years wearing my dad’s old leather-padding gear. AND his tube skates. Gear is worth a fortune now, but shithead over here gave it to goodwill years before knowing that.
• Fun Fact: the air raid sirens in Montreal used two Chrysler Hemi V-8 engines. If war breaks out today, they’ll probably use Tesla batteries so, you know, thoughts and prayers y’all.
• Does Robin Hood oats still exist? Genuinely curious.
• “His career will end with five goals and six passes.” God I hope you lost tons of money on that prediction.
• I’m intimidated by my cat, I can’t imagine the gull it takes to tell Toe Blake to shut up in front of the whole team!
• “That’s what I want!” And yet you bench him, DICK.
• Revolution Number 9 would have been an awesome title too. Fifteen, what a lousy number.
• “He could beat the record of 44 goals in a season!” Hold my poutine…
• God I miss being able to tie my shoes without grunting…
• You gotta give it to the Boston goalie: when a guy with crazy eyes, a blood soaked jersey and a face still dripping red, comes at you, you don’t stay in his way.
• Wealthy people “protected” from the cheap-seaters by a chain-link fence. Kinda worried about current oligarchs watching this and getting ideas…
• If you think Frenchies trying to speak English is funny, trust me, the opposite is effing hilarious. But I truly respect the effort.
• “You’re out for the entire season. And all the playoffs.” It wasn’t just a sport, and that moment changed an entire nation.
• “You are the greatest hockey player that will ever be.” DAMN right.