Underdogs

 

Underdogs

A Review of Cheer, Season 2 by Nick Olszyk

 

Distribution Service: Netflix

Year: 2022

FCC Rating, TV-MA

CSM Rating, 14+

Reel Rating, Four Reels            

 

            Coming off a successful championship and newfound fame, it was natural for the fantastic television docuseries Cheer to get a 2^nd season. In the first episode, it promises much of the same: loveable characters, emotional anguish, and going for the gold. Yet, Monica and the team are in for the hard lesson that history and the United States government don’t have competitive cheerleading high on their property list. Despite these drawbacks, Navarro continues forward and reaffirms that its heart is bigger than its pom-poms.

            Season Two fits neatly into two sections, and this season is conveniently twice as long to match. The first chapter reintroduces Navarro as they get ready to win another championship at Daytona 2020. Unlike last year, they are not, however, the sole protagonist. Cheer now prominently features the team of Trinity Valley Community College, Navarro’s cross-town rivals, and their head coach Vontae Johnson. He is more intense and less giddy than Monica. In the previous year, he declined to be featured, but – sensing the benefits of exposure – now feely allows in the cameras. Both their hopes are dashed when the finals are cancelled only days away due to the infamous government lockdown.

            When the film crew returns in 2021, many old favorites have graduated, and a new batch rookies take center stage. At Navarro, there is the flyer Maddie, whose single mother downsized their house so her daughter could pursue her dream. At Trinity, there is Jada, a no-nonsense team leader who wants desperately to win her senior year. My personal favorite is Dee, a male tumbler who might be the best gymnast in the nation. He can spin an astounding five times in a single tumble. The fact that he is cheering for a junior college rather than training for the Olympics is a testament to their level of excellence. This section is far better, with less focus on personalities and more on the competition, ending in a nail-biting climax.

            The first two episodes were somewhat insufferable as the Narraro squad shines not as stellar athletes but as newly minted social media celebrities. Catapulted by the success of the first season, Brooke, Lexi, Jerry, Monica, and Gabi have Instagram followers in the millions. They are on Ellen, Jimmy Kimmel, and The Tonight Show. Monica herself lands the ultimate “slightly famous” gig as a contestant on Dancing with the Stars. Jerry, with his infectious energy, goes the furthest as a red-carpet interviewer for E!, even landing an interview with then presidential hopeful Joe Biden. All this comes off as vapid and beneath their talent. Lexi giggles that she gets $25 a pop to wish people happy birthday on Cameo, unaware that she will never compete at Daytona again. Fame is incredibly fleeting; a year later and many are again anonymous.  

            Looming darker than even the impeding plague is the knowledge of Jerry’s fate. In October of last year, he was arrested on charges of child pornography and harassment. It was an anxious question how a series known for its upbeat tone and clean image would handle such a tumultuous downfall. I give director Greg Whiteley credit for facing the subject head on, devoting an entire episode, and not attempting to exclude already used footage of Jerry from the series. Unfortunately, what could have been a sober examination of fame, disgrace, and sexual misconduct becomes a mass stoning. One by one, his friends “deny they ever knew him’” going on and on about their ignorance and shock. Whiteley even brings out Jerry’s accusers (both minors) and their hotheaded lawyer to vividly detail his supposed crimes. Only Gabi Butler, the show’s true moral center, seems to express any compassion towards him, refusing to disown a lifelong friend while rightly condemning his actions. It should be noted that Jerry himself has pled not guilty to every charge and a trial date has not even been set. While a person may be innocent until proven guilty legally, that sure isn’t the case in the monster of mass media.

            The series hits its stride when teams return, having unjustly been denied their opportunity to compete in the Spring of 2020. Since this is Texas and not California, they are at least allowed to return to normal life, albeit with plenty of the silly trappings now so familiar. Monica will wear a mask to practice, then immediately take it off to speak, then put it back on. Students will be tested again and again and again, but no one will get seriously ill. Pretty soon everyone stops caring and focuses on getting ready for this year. The stunts are bigger, and the attitude bigger still. Their performances are astounding. Dee can hit seven cartwheels in a row then groan in frustration about a tiny flaw. Between Navarro and Trinity, the winner will literally come down to hundredths of a percent. No matter who is on top, the audience has witnessed the peak of what God’s human creation can do.

            These two sections demonstrate how easy it is to lose focus. The real drama of life isn’t Facebook or MSNBC or the latest Covid variant but personal contact with one’s fellow humans. It’s the glory of working hard and seeing the fruit of one’s labor. Cheer celebrates this better than most programs, even if distractions occasionally mess up the routine.