Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton (2017)
A social war finds a battleground on artificial turf. A gender divide now separated by a waist-high net. The membrane is soft, but absolute. The positioning of the opponents, which were once stagnant, now alternate between sets. Equality resides over the battle dome, but fairness can always be exploited.
Billie Jean on the top of her craft, yet her compensation remains laughable. A soul just as dedicated to her game as any of her male counterparts, she sighs and forgets her way through most corporate meetings. She is the face of women's tennis, and soon will be the face of women's liberation.
Bobby has tasted the victory Billie Jean presently basks in, but his conquering took place in a more rigid time. The seventies are disrupting the national psyche, and leaders bloom from unlucky gardens. The flowers and stars laced into the tennis dresses proclaim an uprising of feminine strength that no longer curls up in the face of ridicule.
Taking a seat in the back row of a gamblers anonymous meeting, Bobby knows he has no problems. The only reason why he finds himself in this church basement is because he was caught gambling. He even plays phony blackjack with his shrink. Betting is inherent to his personality, and integral to his character. His affinity for flair unlocks magical opportunities. Even his bigoted persona will aid the war effort of equal rights in a very roundabout way.
Slumbering in a nondescript hotel bed, Billie Jean has abandoned the Grand Slam for a greater prize. She has gone rogue, and now feels more expressive than ever. Her competitors are lousy enemies and phenomenal friends. Tournaments give appropriate recognition to those who bleed during their construction. She remains content until old foes rear their demeaning heads.
The story of the battle uses the tennis court as judicial court, and lawyers are replaced by racquets. Unfortunately, the courtroom dialogue here is bland and fabricated. Painfully obvious commentators fill the duty of disputing, and characters reduce a nuanced and fascinating conflict to a polarized fable of a people group's struggle. A zip-line plot skims over important issues and commercializes the triumph of a very special team of women and men.
A social war finds a battleground on artificial turf. A gender divide now separated by a waist-high net. The membrane is soft, but absolute. The positioning of the opponents, which were once stagnant, now alternate between sets. Equality resides over the battle dome, but fairness can always be exploited.
Billie Jean on the top of her craft, yet her compensation remains laughable. A soul just as dedicated to her game as any of her male counterparts, she sighs and forgets her way through most corporate meetings. She is the face of women's tennis, and soon will be the face of women's liberation.
Bobby has tasted the victory Billie Jean presently basks in, but his conquering took place in a more rigid time. The seventies are disrupting the national psyche, and leaders bloom from unlucky gardens. The flowers and stars laced into the tennis dresses proclaim an uprising of feminine strength that no longer curls up in the face of ridicule.
Taking a seat in the back row of a gamblers anonymous meeting, Bobby knows he has no problems. The only reason why he finds himself in this church basement is because he was caught gambling. He even plays phony blackjack with his shrink. Betting is inherent to his personality, and integral to his character. His affinity for flair unlocks magical opportunities. Even his bigoted persona will aid the war effort of equal rights in a very roundabout way.
Slumbering in a nondescript hotel bed, Billie Jean has abandoned the Grand Slam for a greater prize. She has gone rogue, and now feels more expressive than ever. Her competitors are lousy enemies and phenomenal friends. Tournaments give appropriate recognition to those who bleed during their construction. She remains content until old foes rear their demeaning heads.
The story of the battle uses the tennis court as judicial court, and lawyers are replaced by racquets. Unfortunately, the courtroom dialogue here is bland and fabricated. Painfully obvious commentators fill the duty of disputing, and characters reduce a nuanced and fascinating conflict to a polarized fable of a people group's struggle. A zip-line plot skims over important issues and commercializes the triumph of a very special team of women and men.
final words:
GAMES CREATE DIALOGUE