On the green
June 19, 2011
There are few sports where women get as little recognition as in soccer. Maybe that's because female soccer players are seen as trying to encroach on what people think of as men's turf.
But that's far from the intent for a lot of female players, who just want to play and not be measured against men. The important thing for these women is doing what they love - at least, that's usually the picture when it comes to movies and documentaries about the sport.
In the successful British film "Bend It Like Beckham," the story follows a woman from a family of Indian immigrants who is absolutely committed to joining a soccer league - against the will of her parents, who want to turn her into the ideal Indian wife. For them, that means getting married after her degree and becoming a good housewife and cook.
But Jesminder, nicknamed Jess, doesn't even consider doing that. She continues heading to the soccer field in secret and falls in love with her non-Indian coach.
It's a story of Indian family tradition coming up against contemporary life in Britain. Jess' father is the first one to notice that his ideas may be a bit too old-fashioned. He sends Jess to the soccer field on the day of his other daughter's wedding, where Jess' team is competing for the championship.
The game is shot in short scenes with fast music, so it would be hard for viewers to claim women's soccer is boring. The film is fun and colorful - a little bit of Bollywood mixed with comedy and, of course, sports.
On the ball
From 1995 to 2008, Turkish filmmaker Aysun Bademsoy accompanied a clique of five Turkish girls in Berlin. The result is an impressive, three-part documentary that makes it clear how soccer serves as a niche for these girls. It offers a hiatus from the everyday, from their families and from the seemingly insolvable dilemma between integration and tradition.
The astonishing thing is that none of the girls have to play in secret. In fact, one is practically forced to take part by her father. She and the four others play in the Kreuzberg women's soccer club Agrispor, which, in 1995, was the only Turkish club for female players in all of Europe.
On the field, the girls are alone with each other, leave everything else behind and all have the same goal: to play, to win and to improve their standing in the league. Director Aysun Bademsoy was fascinated by the fact that the girls didn't try to emulate male soccer players.
"In the locker room before the game, they would fight for room in front of the mirror," Bademsoy said. Then the girls would head out to the field with their hair just in place and make-up on.
"So, yeah, the stadium became a bit like a catwalk. But they were also all very beautiful girls," the director said.
Soccer forever?
In part two of the trilogy, soccer begins to fade into the background. The girls are growing up, have to focus on their education and begin thinking about the future, relationships and marriage. It's the end of a season, and the girls know it is their last.
The third part comes more than 10 years later. The five girls are grown up and have had much to endure. One is already divorced, unemployed and has to raise her child alone.
Another has experienced hellish things she refuses to talk about and turns to furious marathon training while finding refuge in her Islamic faith. Two others are married to Turkish men and have children.
Just one of the five protagonists still plays soccer actively and coaches as well. She never gave up on her dream of playing, and she has no interest in a "normal" occupation or in getting married.
Director Aysun Bademsoy chose not to insert very much text in the documentary. She observes the young women and lets them tell their stories. Her technique results in sharp portraits of the five main characters as well as a moving study of their social environment.
Kicking under veils
Two other young filmmakers from Berlin have taken a similar stance as observers in their film "Footbal Under Cover." Iranian Ayat Najafi and his German colleague David Assmann are convinced that soccer can bridge cultures, no matter how much seems to separate them. That belief leads them to Iran, where women's soccer first came about in 1968 - a point at which the sport was still not available to women in Germany.
The team travels to Tehran with a group of young female players from Berlin. There, a friendly international game against the Iranian women's team is set to take place. But there's plenty of hair-raising tension along the way: Iranian functionaries change the tournament plans, visas come too late, and the women themselves don't know exactly who they're going to be competing against on the field.
One thing is clear, though. The German players will have to adhere to Iranian mores, which means hitting the field in a full veil. Even for many of the Muslim players on the German team, that's a difficult thought to bear.
At the game, women are the only spectators allowed. Guardians of public morals keep a strict eye on the exclusively female crowd and forbid any wild singing or dancing during half-time, calling such behavior improper and beneath the women in attendance.
Despite - or perhaps because of - these partly absurd scenes, the film has a lot of humor.
Soccer is self-determination
These films don't set out to promote women's soccer. In fact, the sport itself is just a sideshow - even if it's the most important thing in the world for some of the players involved.
There are many examples, ranging from female soccer in Germany in the 1950s through to Iranian women, who are kicking from underneath their veils and with no male observers. The Zanzibar Soccer Queens roll with the punches and keep playing, the Turkish girls in Berlin's Agrispor league leave the everyday behind, and a young Indian woman breaks with tradition. For these women and girls, soccer is an expression of their self-determination and independence.
But, unfortunately, they often have to confine it to two 45-minute rounds. After the final whistle, many of the women settle back into their old roles.
Author: Silke Wünsch / gsw
Editor: Kate Bowen