FEBRUARY 4 — If you live in Malaysia, feel presently unloved as the country continues its roller-coaster nightmare to Pirate Island and want a lift — some respite — go and catch the movie Ola Bola.

The film does appear at times to stutter but the passion never nosedives and we win at the end. It’s nice to win. Malaysia needs more wins.

Anyways, go buy a ticket, inflated prices though not negligible.

Ola Bola tries to tell the true story of Malaysia’s football team winning a spot at an Olympics that they did not finally attend. [1] The outcome and general background are correct, but the characters are fictional — though inspired by real life ones like Soh Chin Aun, Mokhtar Dahari [2] and R. Arumugam [3] .

The movie works generally but gets unstuck with burdens which are part self-inflicted and part historically-inherited. Still, general sentiment has been strong for the film as movie-goers overlook the kinks and enjoy the story-telling traversing Malaysia’s past to rewrite hope into the present anchored in multiculturalism.

The intention is hard to ignore and the choice not to take cheap shots about the past or present, but to celebrate a shared memory has connected with the viewing public. Ola Bola is expected to have a lengthy run at the theatres. 

The main characters are Chow Kwok Keong [Soh Chin Aun [4] , the massively famous ex-captain of the national team, in disguise], a TV producer Marianne who looks for answers on how they managed to do it in 1980 against the South Koreans, and former teammate Eric (that’s Sabah’s James Wong) who connects them by retelling the trials and tribulations of Malaysia’s last football team to qualify for a major global championship.

The tauke (boss), young disillusioned media point person and a grandfather who coaches little-league when his grandson is not playing video games, with all three of them being Chinese.

The multilingual film (Malay, Mandarin, Cantonese, English and Tamil) navigates a constant theme of what home means to all who were born here. The lack of spite at any community which probably creates patience from most viewers even if the treatment would bring unevenness to details.

Mindful, Malaysian football has not seen a dominating Chinese player since Ong Teong Kim in 1989, translating what it was to be the tauke for that team required a bridge, reinforcements. So a different generation with a different sense of leadership, on or off the pitch, could relate.

Made-up characters or not, how to negate that Shamsul is Mokhtar by another name, and Muthu the latest avatar of “Spiderman” Arumugam?

Personally, I found the overly clean cut images of all the players certainly over-sanitised the tale especially since the lifestyles of footballers back then were colourful even if poorer amateurs.

I would have preferred the movie to be less sanitised and more honest about players’ lifestyle in those days.

Time to cheer

Malaysian sports has rarely been glorified on the big screen, and on that note itself Ola Bola triumphs in terms of the subject matter, its handling and seeking to heighten the experience of the story to a whole new generation of viewers.

JC Chee as the lead character will have cross-appeal on looks, but the real star — almost stealing every scene he was in — is Bront Palarae [5] as sportscaster Rahman. While actual memories of the 1980 matches will kindle up cries of “Cucuk Hassan”, the free licence granted to Bront meant things went up to the stratosphere with “Kimchi” and other scream-alongs.

I was sold staring at an aged locomotive trekking through Sabah, as Marianne set off on her travel. It tells us that as Malaysians we are all riding on a common but larger, deeper and most certainly meaningful river, and asking where we belong in Malaysia is a journey, and a personal one.

Ola Bola had the tenacity over and over to have a go at that theme, that being proud and Malaysian is not the worst thing in the universe. Kudos to the producers.

The movie crosses paths with my world funnily. Mark Williams, the English “Harry Mountain” coach of the team [6] , plays for one of the teams I play against (and lose to) in a league in Hulu Kelang.

In fact, I was around when the casting team for Ola Bola were seeking older European footballers to try for the role. Several of the lads were on as extras, and one of the 16-year-olds flies off today to start his try-outs at English club Reading.

And the “Malaysian team” actors trained at my old school, Victoria Institution. Stadium Merdeka was built partially on school grounds in 1957. And the biggest star Mokhtar was from the VI. His friends apparently called him Jinggaru for allegedly eating horse meat and running like a kangaroo, and I can imagine that a fair number of his classmates would have been at Stadium Merdeka when they beat South Korea on that day.

Movies have to please the type of viewers they set themselves for. Cast aside limp moments like the changing room’s not quite “Henry the V” moment with a few more, and the production hits the mark it set for itself.

The director and screenwriters were burdened by balance — to sell entertainment, harmony and passion. Something had to give. But that is the filmmaker bearing the cross of 30 years of cinema straightjackets. There is a new spirit of expression in the country, one which is breaking free from the categorisation and oversimplification.

So catch Ola Bola with an eye to a new age of Malaysian cinema breaking free from the cocoon of forced retelling of what was what, and how so to feel about whatever that was. It is about sports, and Malaysians understand that despite a complete race-religion siege mentality in differing degrees for a layer of life events daily here at home when it comes to sports, mistrust dissipates.

That is why probably privately the producers did not anticipate indifference from the people as long as the agenda was the people, sports being played and Malaysians coming on top.

Over the top jingoism at times? You bet! It’s full on jingoistic rapture at 100 miles an hour at many stretches. It is OK, even if only during a movie, to believe again.

Say it along: “Goal, gogogoal, goal!”

*This is the personal opinion of the columnist.

[1] [In qualifying we showed ourselves as a top footballing team — at the dusk of the amateur age giving way to professionalism. Interesting to note, while Malaysia surrendered its spot in Islamic solidarity opposing the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the heavier Muslim populated Iraq replaced us. All three Asian representatives who did attend Moscow Olympics were Organisation of Islamic Countries (OIC) members, Syria and Kuwait joining Iraq — and much closer geographically to Afghanistan.]

[2] Supermokhtar died in 1991 of motor neuron disease. He was hastily dragged back for the unsuccessful 1986 World Cup qualifiers when facing South Korea.

[3] Arumugam died in a road accident while he was still playing in 1988, and had by then accumulated 196 caps and more matches along with cups with Selangor.

[4] Soh Chin Aun did try to run for office as MCA candidate, but lost in his home state of Malacca.

[5] Bront’s performance in Terbaik Dari Langit had already helped mark him as one of the true acting talents in the country. He does offer something when he comes on.

[6] Karl-Heinz Weigang was the actual German manager of the team then, and he continued his relationship with Malaysian state teams for decades after.