Championing humanity, for the win.
Hollywood has an unfortunate habit of treating disability as either an issue to be tackled or an obstacle to be overcome, often reducing disabled characters to plot devices in stories that centre non-disabled protagonists. Champions does something different. It brings its disabled cast to the forefront, not as token representatives or “very special episode” lessons, but as fully realised individuals – funny, flawed, ambitious, and stubborn in ways that feel refreshingly authentic. It’s the kind of portrayal that’s been a rarity in mainstream cinema, with only the likes of South Park and Family Guy regularly allowing disabled characters to exist as full-fledged people rather than inspirational props.
Directed by Bobby Farrelly, the film follows Woody Harrelson as Marcus, a hot-headed minor-league basketball coach whose temper lands him a court-ordered community service gig coaching a team of intellectually disabled players. The setup might sound like it’s teeing up for a well-worn arc of reluctant do-gooder learns Important Life Lessons™, but Champions smartly sidesteps the usual pitfalls. It never treats its cast as a collective life-affirming lesson for the main character. Instead, they are the heart of the story, and Marcus – while certainly on his own journey – becomes part of their world rather than the other way around.
The film is genuinely funny, not in a way that punches down or condescends but in a way that acknowledges the team’s unique perspectives, quirks, and camaraderie. The comedy doesn’t come from their disabilities but from their personalities – like any good ensemble sports movie, it thrives on the interplay between its characters. The cast, many of whom are disabled actors, deliver performances brimming with warmth and comedic timing, each bringing something distinct to the team dynamic. Kaitlin Olson also deserves mention as Alex, Marcus’s love interest, whose no-nonsense attitude and refusal to indulge his early arrogance keep him firmly grounded.
Farrelly’s direction ensures the film never veers into sentimentality. It allows for moments of real emotion – victories that feel earned, setbacks that sting – but never wallows in pity or exploitation. It laughs with its characters, not at them, sharing in their triumphs and tumbles alike. Champions understands that representation isn’t about setting disabled characters up as moral guideposts or sympathy triggers – it’s about letting them take the stage and tell their own stories.
In a genre packed with underdog sports films, Champions doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but it does something more valuable: it gets it right. It’s a feel-good comedy that earns its heart, never forcing its message but letting it shine naturally through the characters who make it special. That, in itself, is a victory worth cheering for.
