Oh, "Jayhawkers" is an impoverished production with stilted acting and direction, but the minimalist black-and-white cinematography and production design isn't bad and kind of appropriate if one compares it to photography of basketball back in the 1950s and before--poor and limited spot lighting and haphazard at capturing actual athletic spectacle. The basketball drama in "Jayhawkers" is even arguably overdone at times, such as for Wilt Chamberlain's final college game during the failed bid of the Kansas Jayhawks for the NCAA championship, where three overtimes combining for 15 points, and zero of those points in the second overtime, is depicted as a brisk competition instead of the pre-shot clock stalling that much of it was. Moreover, the movie does a fair job at examining civil rights and racial issues on and off the court.
It's in that respect that the concluding archival footage of the real Chamberlain, not long before his death, basking in his jersey being retired by the university is genuinely moving. He never needed to be anything other than himself, either, to affect change. Just his excellence and admired stature was enough to demonstrate how stupid is racism. At the very least, his vaunted position in a small Midwestern community due to what he could provide for the local sports team had the power to shut up some of the racists and shut down some of the segregation laws if only temporarily. Such celebrities of sports, or, say, movies, often have a far more significant influence on more people than academics, intellectuals and even politicians. It's this revelation that makes "Jayhawkers" somewhat interesting.
The basketball stuff, on the other hand, not so much. The musical subplot seems suspect, as well. Maybe Kansas was different, but wasn't jazz thoroughly coopted by white bands and culture in America by the 1950s. The so-called "Jazz Age" was decades prior, after all. So, the storyline here of student rebellion through jazz seems kind of "Footloose" (1984).
Anyways, back to basketball, Justin Wesley, who also really played basketball for Kansas, is fine enough as a rookie actor, but no amount of camera trickery is going to make up for the fact he's a good four-to-five inches too short and for a period when the average American male was at least one or two inches shorter than that of today. And, let's be honest, there never was and there never has been since quite an athlete like Chamberlain--the biggest guy in the game, including a progenitor of bulking up and muscle training, who was also faster and a greater leaper (he was a high jumping champion in college) than players in the backcourt. And, I'm not just talking about the relatively unathletic set shooters of the slow state of college basketball back then, but also the NBA when it was played at the fastest pace it ever has been.
Heck, he could handle the ball with more agility than guards, too, as he pointed for the Harlem Globetrotters in the days when the barnstorming team wasn't a joke. Forget 100 points in a game, 50.4 points per game for an entire season, a career rebounds per game average of 22.9, or that had they counted blocks back then that he may've averaged a triple double with them. The man never fouled out of an NBA game, he averaged more minutes per game one season than there are minutes in the usual, non-overtime game (48), and he remains the only center to ever lead the league in assists. Even after retirement from the pro game, he legendarily trounced 1980s Magic Johnson and company in a pick up game and made "Conan the Destroyer" (1984) co-star Arnold Schwarzenegger look diminutive by comparison. Even if some of the mythology is inflated, he's still the most amazing athlete ever known. To be fair, it's a role that's impossible to cast for a movie.
The other star of "Jayhawkers" is of more humble origins--as far back as the peach baskets and cage matches of basketball's beginnings--coach "Phog" Allen. The X's-and-too-many-O's man in a suit on the sidelines and showing films of a mongoose in the locker room is less impressive as depicted here. His genius in the creating of the role of the basketball coach seeming to boil down to, 1) recruit Wilt Chamberlain and, 2) well, that's it--get Chamberlain and profit. Granted, it's a top-notch strategy, but it's the sort of thing I could see even myself figuring out.
And reporters have the gall to scandalize college athletes receiving payments under the table. I'm sure Chamberlain received some payments, a car, or whatever, from Kansas U. Boosters, and he deserved more. College sports coaches are the highest-paid public employees in most American states, and student-athletes are a coerced, basically-free labor source for billions-of-dollars industries, but, yeah, it's a scandal that the "amateurs" receive a bit of financial compensation beyond an education that they likely don't have time for. Good for Chamberlain, then, that he left college early. In "Jayhawkers," Allen becomes increasingly irrelevant as he's forced into retirement. It's apt. The game was no longer one of doctor-coaches and misshapen wrestlers in a cage. With the rise of players--well, not "like" exactly, as nobody was like him, but--Chamberlain and others (say, Bill Russell, Oscar Robertson, etc.), it became a sport of athletes.
It's in that respect that the concluding archival footage of the real Chamberlain, not long before his death, basking in his jersey being retired by the university is genuinely moving. He never needed to be anything other than himself, either, to affect change. Just his excellence and admired stature was enough to demonstrate how stupid is racism. At the very least, his vaunted position in a small Midwestern community due to what he could provide for the local sports team had the power to shut up some of the racists and shut down some of the segregation laws if only temporarily. Such celebrities of sports, or, say, movies, often have a far more significant influence on more people than academics, intellectuals and even politicians. It's this revelation that makes "Jayhawkers" somewhat interesting.
The basketball stuff, on the other hand, not so much. The musical subplot seems suspect, as well. Maybe Kansas was different, but wasn't jazz thoroughly coopted by white bands and culture in America by the 1950s. The so-called "Jazz Age" was decades prior, after all. So, the storyline here of student rebellion through jazz seems kind of "Footloose" (1984).
Anyways, back to basketball, Justin Wesley, who also really played basketball for Kansas, is fine enough as a rookie actor, but no amount of camera trickery is going to make up for the fact he's a good four-to-five inches too short and for a period when the average American male was at least one or two inches shorter than that of today. And, let's be honest, there never was and there never has been since quite an athlete like Chamberlain--the biggest guy in the game, including a progenitor of bulking up and muscle training, who was also faster and a greater leaper (he was a high jumping champion in college) than players in the backcourt. And, I'm not just talking about the relatively unathletic set shooters of the slow state of college basketball back then, but also the NBA when it was played at the fastest pace it ever has been.
Heck, he could handle the ball with more agility than guards, too, as he pointed for the Harlem Globetrotters in the days when the barnstorming team wasn't a joke. Forget 100 points in a game, 50.4 points per game for an entire season, a career rebounds per game average of 22.9, or that had they counted blocks back then that he may've averaged a triple double with them. The man never fouled out of an NBA game, he averaged more minutes per game one season than there are minutes in the usual, non-overtime game (48), and he remains the only center to ever lead the league in assists. Even after retirement from the pro game, he legendarily trounced 1980s Magic Johnson and company in a pick up game and made "Conan the Destroyer" (1984) co-star Arnold Schwarzenegger look diminutive by comparison. Even if some of the mythology is inflated, he's still the most amazing athlete ever known. To be fair, it's a role that's impossible to cast for a movie.
The other star of "Jayhawkers" is of more humble origins--as far back as the peach baskets and cage matches of basketball's beginnings--coach "Phog" Allen. The X's-and-too-many-O's man in a suit on the sidelines and showing films of a mongoose in the locker room is less impressive as depicted here. His genius in the creating of the role of the basketball coach seeming to boil down to, 1) recruit Wilt Chamberlain and, 2) well, that's it--get Chamberlain and profit. Granted, it's a top-notch strategy, but it's the sort of thing I could see even myself figuring out.
And reporters have the gall to scandalize college athletes receiving payments under the table. I'm sure Chamberlain received some payments, a car, or whatever, from Kansas U. Boosters, and he deserved more. College sports coaches are the highest-paid public employees in most American states, and student-athletes are a coerced, basically-free labor source for billions-of-dollars industries, but, yeah, it's a scandal that the "amateurs" receive a bit of financial compensation beyond an education that they likely don't have time for. Good for Chamberlain, then, that he left college early. In "Jayhawkers," Allen becomes increasingly irrelevant as he's forced into retirement. It's apt. The game was no longer one of doctor-coaches and misshapen wrestlers in a cage. With the rise of players--well, not "like" exactly, as nobody was like him, but--Chamberlain and others (say, Bill Russell, Oscar Robertson, etc.), it became a sport of athletes.