I’ve never been shy that I think Rudy is a masterpiece, a remarkably inspiring film elevated to the divine thanks to Jerry Goldsmith’s all-time score and some lovely cinematography. You can read my review here.
Rewatching it this fall, I want to share the film’s best moments, the scenes that stick with me even when it’s not football season. Here they are, Rudy’s ten best moments in chronological order.
“Having dreams is what makes life tolerable”
Christopher Reed plays the role of the small but crucial character Pete, whose death is the catalyst for Rudy to pursue his dream. Reed gives a wonderful, charming turn as the quipping best friend who appreciates Rudy’s dreaming as a contrast to the the jaded blue-collar exurbs they operate in. His great moment is when he gives Rudy the iconic jacket for his birthday.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a Ruettiger. You can have a damn nice life.”
Early in Rudy, he gets shot down by a needlessly cruel high school teacher who refuses to let him go on a Notre Dame campus tour. His brother is also a nagging negative Nancy. But the first really sane (and frankly justified) person to try and talk Rudy out of throwing his ordinary life away in pursuit of something great is his dad, a terrific Ned Beatty. He points out a failed dream causes suffering not just for the dreamer but the people around him. The dad character could have been cruel or patronizing; instead he’s sympathetic, which makes Rudy’s persistence all the tougher.
“We’re gonna get ’em on the run! We’re gonna keep ’em on the run!”
For Rudy to work, the audience must be fully invested in the idea that Notre Dame football is, in fact, a higher calling and a greater truth. Multiple scenes are devoted specifically to building this reverence. My favorite is probably when Rudy and Fortune are cleaning the locker room. He invokes the names of great players like their ghosts and reads aloud the Gipper speech like it’s a Bible verse.
“My son’s going to Notre Dame!”
The moment Rudy gets into Notre Dame, reading a letter sitting on a bench, has always been one of the few moments of the film that underwhelms me for how significant it is to the story. But I can’t help but laugh and get a little choked up when Rudy brings the letter to his father, as Beatty wonderfully sells infectious pride.
“Coach, I can do it!”
One of the two most beautifully shot and scored scenes of the film, along with the ending, is the tryouts montage. Rudy’s dream is finally on the line, one do-or-die moment. He throws his body into it, allowing his sheer force of will overcome his lack of talent.
“This asshole thinks it’s the Super Bowl!”
Finally, in the third act of the film, Rudy’s relentlessness and grit start to pay off. He rouses and infuriates the varsity athletes until one player finally snaps. For a film that puts Rudy through the grinder — fairly but incessantly — it’s a payoff to see Coach Parseghian (Jason Miller) finally call out how much Rudy’s drive matters not just for him, but for the whole mission of the team.
“Prove what?”
When Rudy’s dream seems on the verge of collapsing, it’s his old mentor Fortune who helps him realize that pursuing a dream is not about checking a box to say you did something or impress other people, but the personal enlightenment and actualization you get from devoting your whole self to that mission.
“You’re an All-American and our Captain, act like it!”
–“I believe I am”
Nobody gets there by themselves. With Rudy’s hope for “running out that tunnel” — a phrase increasingly charged with imagery and spiritual weight of an ascent to heaven as the film progresses — all gone, the rest of the team communes with him to give him a chance at salvation. It’s a touching moment even if it’s one of the meaner bits of the film’s revisionism — in fact, coach Dan Devine was Rudy’s biggest supporter, and letting him dress was Devine’s idea.
“Rudy! Rudy! Rudy! Rudy!”
You knew it was coming on this list. The chant. The choir calling out in unison — in prayer, even — for Rudy to get his moment.. It’s a stirring moment, a payoff of 90 minutes of Rudy grinding for no glory to be suddenly be the center of the football universe.
Grand finale
It’s one of the great movie endings. From the outside, the play is an inconsequential clock-expiring sack. From the inside out, it’s the most important moment of Rudy’s life, his apotheosis… almost literally: He’s lifted up to the clouds by his teammates, Jerry Goldsmith’s anthem soaring, the ultimate validation of his dreaming and grinding and relentless spirit. I always finish Rudy with tears running down my cheeks and ready to take on the world.
Dan is the founder and head critic of The Goods. Follow Dan on Letterboxd. Join the Discord for updates and discussion.