Calling this probably the greatest sports movie ever made would be an insult to Zaillian and Sorkin’s epic poem of revolution, change and resistance to it (the latter writer continuing themes from his last masterpiece then); within that mechanisms of modernity, not necessarily progress, bringing the contradictions that drive every great story; parallels drawn to the American film industry, and art and its authorship.
What I mean to say is, this was not a sports movie. This was a movie about a hell of a lot that happened to work very, very well playing with the genre tropes of the sports movie. Superb. So deserving of its Oscar nominations yet so bizarre that the Academy should recognise a film that goes so against what it stands for.