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    Topol, Star of ‘Fiddler on the Roof’ Onscreen and Onstage, Dies at 87

    Wide acclaim for his portrayal of Tevye helped make him, according to one newspaper, “Israel’s most famous export since the Jaffa orange.”Topol, the Israeli actor who took on the role of the patriarch Tevye, the soulful shtetl milkman at the center of “Fiddler on the Roof,” in his late 20s and reprised the role for decades, died on Thursday at his home in Tel Aviv. He was 87.His son, Omer Topol, confirmed the death. He said in an email that his father had Alzheimer’s disease, which had caused his health to deteriorate over the last year.Topol — born Chaim Topol, he used only his surname throughout much of his professional life — came to international renown heading the cast of the 1971 film version of “Fiddler.” Its director, Norman Jewison, had chosen Topol, then a little-known stage actor, over Zero Mostel, who had created the part on Broadway.The film, for which Topol earned an Oscar nomination and a Golden Globe Award, made him a star. For much of the late 20th century he would be, in the words of The Jerusalem Post in 2012, “Israel’s most famous export since the Jaffa orange.”Topol reprised Tevye in stage productions worldwide for decades, including a 1990 Broadway revival for which he received a Tony nomination. By 2009, he had, by his own estimate, played the character more than 3,500 times.His other films include “Galileo,” the director Joseph Losey’s 1975 adaptation of Bertolt Brecht’s stage play, in which he played the title role; “Flash Gordon” (1980), in which he portrayed the scientist Hans Zarkov; and the James Bond film “For Your Eyes Only” (1981), starring Roger Moore, in which he played the Greek smuggler Milos Columbo.On television, Topol played the Polish Jew Berel Jastrow in the 1983 mini-series “The Winds of War” and reprised the role for its sequel, “War and Remembrance,” broadcast in 1988 and 1989.Topol as Tevye in the movie version of “Fiddler on the Roof.” The character is a weary, tradition-bound Everyman who argues with God, bemoans his lot as the penurious father of five daughters and lives warily amid the pogroms of Czarist Russia. United Archives/Hulton Archive, via Getty ImagesBut it was indisputably for Tevye — the weary, tradition-bound Everyman who argues with God, bemoans his lot as the penurious father of five daughters and lives increasingly warily amid the pogroms of early-20th-century Czarist Russia — that Topol remained best known.“Like Yul Brynner in ‘The King and I’ and Rex Harrison in ‘My Fair Lady,’ Topol has become almost synonymous with his character,” United Press International said in 1989. Over the years, Topol was asked repeatedly whether he ever tired of playing the role.“Let’s face it, it’s one of the best parts ever written for a male actor in the musical theater,” he told The Boston Globe in 1989, when he had played Tevye a mere 700 times or so. “It takes you to a wide range of emotions, happiness to sadness, anger to love.”Throughout his many Tevyes, some critics taxed Topol’s acting as larger than life to the point of self-parody. But most praised his soulful mien and his resonant bass baritone, heard in enduring numbers like “If I Were a Rich Man,” “Tradition” and “Sunrise, Sunset.”By the time Mr. Jewison began work on the “Fiddler” film, Tevye was one of the most coveted roles in Hollywood. The Broadway show, based on stories by the Yiddish writer Sholem Aleichem — with book by Joseph Stein, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick and music by Jerry Bock — had been a smash hit since it opened in 1964. It won nine Tony Awards, including best musical, best direction of a musical (for Jerome Robbins) and, for Mr. Mostel, best actor in a musical.“The casting of it was the most agonizing thing I ever went through,” Mr. Jewison told NPR in 2001.Besides Mr. Mostel, aspirants to the screen role included Rod Steiger, Danny Kaye and — in a scenario that can be contemplated only with difficulty — Frank Sinatra.Mr. Jewison’s casting choice was all the more striking in that Topol had not wanted the part in the first place.Topol as the title character in the 1975 film version of Bertolt Brecht’s biographical play “Galileo.” Evening Standard/Hulton Archive, via Getty ImagesChaim Topol was born in Tel Aviv on Sept. 9, 1935. His parents, Jacob Topol, a plasterer, and Rel Goldman Topol, a seamstress, had fled shtetlach in Eastern Europe to settle in Palestine in the early 1930s. There, Jacob Topol became a member of the Haganah, the Jewish paramilitary organization.As a youth, Chaim studied commercial art and trained for a career as a printer. But in 1953, while he was serving in the Israeli Army, an officer overheard him regaling fellow recruits with jokes. He was placed in an army entertainment unit and found his calling there.He spent the next few years touring Israel with the group, entertaining soldiers with songs like “Sprinkler Hora,” a hit in that fledgling state, where making the desert bloom was a national imperative.Discharged in 1956, Topol settled with members of his unit on a kibbutz, where they formed a satirical theater group, Batzal Yarok (the name means “Green Onion”). Its members worked on the land two days a week and onstage for four.“It was great training because we had a very difficult, tired audience,” Topol told U.P.I. “Most of them had been out running tractors and such before performances.”He was later a founder of the Haifa Municipal Theater, where his roles included Petruchio in Shakespeare’s “The Taming of the Shrew,” Azdak in Brecht’s “The Caucasian Chalk Circle” and Jean in Eugène Ionesco’s “Rhinoceros,” a role that was originated on Broadway by Mr. Mostel. Topol’s first significant international exposure came in the title role of the 1964 Israeli film “Sallah” (also known as “Sallah Shabati”). One of the first film comedies to come out of Israel, it told the tale of a family of Mizrahi Jews — Jews historically from the Middle East and North Africa — uneasily resettled in Israel.“Sallah” won the Golden Globe for best foreign-language film; Topol, then in his late 20s, won the Golden Globe for most promising male newcomer for his portrayal of Sallah Shabati, the family patriarch, a man in his 60s.On the strength of that performance, he was asked to play Tevye in a Hebrew-language production of “Fiddler” in Tel Aviv. Unfamiliar with the show, he went to New York to see Mr. Mostel on Broadway.That, Topol, later said, was where his troubles with “Fiddler” began.“Zero was going wild” — even ad-libbing to the audience — he recalled in a 2008 interview with the British newspaper The Telegraph. “He said things like, ‘Mrs. Finkelstein, are you yawning because I’m boring you or was it because your husband kept you awake all night?’ I didn’t know what to do with myself. I telegrammed back saying there was no way I wanted to be connected to that show.”But on returning to Israel, Topol saw the Tel Aviv production and had a change of heart. He eventually replaced the actor portraying Tevye and played the role for about a year.Topol in a benefit performance in London in 2013. He was recognized for his charitable work, notably helping to found a holiday camp in Israel for ailing children from all ethnic and religious backgrounds. David M. Benett/Getty ImagesAround that time, the first London production of “Fiddler” was being cast. Someone suggested that the old Jewish actor who had played Sallah Shabati might be a worthy Tevye, and they summoned him to England. When Topol, barely 30, walked into the theater, producers thought they had invited the wrong man. But since he had made the long trip, they relented and let him audition anyway.Topol, who at the time knew “about 50 words of English” by his own account, had learned the songs phonetically from the Broadway cast album. He further impressed the producers with his ability to age 25 years simply through the rigorous control of his carriage.“At 29, I knew I had to restrain some muscles to make sure I didn’t suddenly jump in a way that destroyed the image of an elderly man,” he told The Boston Globe in 2009, in the midst of a multicity U.S. tour of the show. “I walked slower, made sure I wasn’t too erect when I danced. It was quite a job. Now, as I pass the age of 55 by 20 years, I feel totally free to jump and dance as much as I feel like.”Topol opened in London in February 1967, to glowing notices. By then he had jettisoned his first name: The English, he discovered, were flummoxed by the guttural consonant of “Chaim” and pronounced his name “Shame” as often as not.In June, with Israel fighting the Six-Day War, he left the production to return home, where he entertained the troops. (He would make a similar decision in 1991, with the outbreak of the Persian Gulf war, leaving the Broadway revival to be with his family in Tel Aviv.)After seeing the London “Fiddler,” Mr. Jewison made the unexpected decision to cast Topol, still a relative unknown in the United States, in the motion picture.“I wanted a third-generation European actor for the role, a third-generation man who understood the background,” Mr. Jewison told The Globe in 1971. “I did not want a Second Avenue version of Tevye” — a barely veiled swipe at Mr. Mostel and his unstoppable shtick.Topol, who underwent two hours of age makeup every day of the shoot — Mr. Jewison did his bit, contributing white hairs from his beard to be glued over his star’s dark eyebrows — made, in the view of many critics, a most persuasive Tevye.Reviewing the film in The New Yorker, Pauline Kael wrote of him: “He’s a rough presence, masculine, with burly, raw strength, but also sensual and warm. He’s a poor man but he’s not a little man, he’s a big man brought low — a man of Old Testament size brought down by the circumstances of oppression.”Topol married Galia Finkelstein, an actress in his army entertainment unit, in 1956. In addition to their son, they had two daughters, Adi Margalith and Anat Barzilai. All four survive him, along with two sisters, Shosh and Tova, and nine grandchildren.Topol was the author of two books, the memoir “Topol by Topol” (1981) and “Topol’s Treasury of Jewish Humor, Wit, and Wisdom” (1994).His laurels included the Israel Prize, the country’s highest cultural honor, which he received in 2015. The recognition came both for his acting and for his charitable work, notably helping to found Jordan River Village, a holiday camp in Israel for seriously ill children from all ethnic and religious backgrounds. Modeled on Paul Newman’s Hole in the Wall Gang Camp in Connecticut, it opened in 2011.Year in and year out, Topol found the role he knew best to be a source of continuing illumination.“I did ‘Fiddler’ a long time thinking that this was a story about the Jewish people,” he said in a 2009 interview. “But now I’ve been performing all over the world. And the fantastic thing is wherever I’ve been — India, Japan, England, Greece, Egypt — people come up to me after the show and say, ‘This is our story as well.’”Alex Traub More

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    ‘Punch’ Review: Hitting at the Heart

    Welby Ings’s keenly observant debut feature follows a young, promising boxer whose priorities shift.Sports dramas, perhaps more than movies in most genres, have an ability to cut to the chase when dealing with themes of gender: The fraught tension between the athlete and their arena so often comes down to how well they adhere to traditional notions of their gender identity. This idea is at the forefront in “Punch,” the feature debut of the New Zealand writer-director Welby Ings, which dexterously balances familiar emotional beats and an impressive, nimble approach to form.Jim’s (Jordan Oosterhof) potential as a boxer is a promise, to himself and to his alcoholic father, Stan (Tim Roth). Jim, a high school student, could finally leave his rural life. He could become the boxing star his father never managed to be. The closer Jim gets to a local queer outcast, Whetu (Conan Hayes), though, the more his priorities shift away from being in the ring.Flowing and keenly observant of its characters and setting, “Punch” swings above its weight class. Though it is too often formulaic in its melodrama, Ings’s film is granted an unusual and compelling out-of-time feel. Its production design, by Iain Aitken, features elements both  modern and not: The training gym appears worn and aged, with paint flaking off the walls and faded pictures that look like they’re from the 1950s. But beneath one photo of the boy and his father, a caption reads “Pirau Boxing Club 2014.” Matt Henley’s cinematography gives the movie a dreamlike texture, as if the bonds between father and son, and fighter and lover, transcend time and place.PunchNot rated. Running time: 1 hour 38 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘99 Moons’ Review: On-Again, Off-Again

    Instead of an engaging erotic romance, the film delivers a dull narrative of two lovers caught in a cycle of getting together and falling apart.Good erotic films are built on an atmosphere of tension. Maybe it’s repressed desire, or a ticking clock imposed on an affair by external forces, or two people with fundamentally different identities coming together against all odds. Jan Gassmann’s “99 Moons” shoots for all three, and yet the tension hangs limply throughout its nearly two-hour running time.The Swiss film, opening in theaters Friday, stars Valentina Di Pace and Dominik Fellmann as Bigna and Frank, characters representing opposites on a spectrum of sexual agency. Bigna, a young scientist trying to advance in her profession by planning a research study in Chile, is controlling to a fault, hooking up with anonymous men in masks to fulfill an elaborate sexual fantasy that the viewer is thrown into during the opening scene. Frank, a loner, weaves his way through hazy nightclubs in search of something that Gassmann never quite articulates. The two meet up through one of Bigna’s contrived escapades, after which Frank immediately bursts into tears. Bigna is confused, and so are we.What follows is a dull, “When Harry Met Sally”-style narrative in which the protagonists pursue each other, get together, and break up over bizarre misunderstandings, before the film jumps forward in time and the cycle repeats itself. (The film’s title comes from this structure; their time apart is measured pretentiously in “moons.”) Gassmann clearly wants to explore the state of love and sexuality in the 2020s — there are more than a few passing parallels to Joachim Trier’s “The Worst Person in the World” — but he succeeds only in conveying the pathologies of two people who can’t figure out what they want from each other.99 MoonsNot rated. In German, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 50 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Unicorn Wars’ Review: Teddy Bears in Battle

    The contrast between this animated film’s grim subject matter and its bubbly animation style is a big part of what makes it so creepy, our critic writes.In “Unicorn Wars,” a disturbing animated film by the Spanish director and comic book artist Alberto Vázquez, pastel-colored bears are locked in perpetual warfare against the supposedly diabolical unicorns that inhabit a magic forest. Two brothers drafted into service, Bluey (Jon Goirizelaia) and Tubby (Jaione Insausti), are bobble-headed teddy bears with saucer eyes and a penchant for bed-wetting, yet the vainglorious Bluey in particular proves capable of great cruelty.In other words, these Care Bears are not for children. Even some adults will have difficulty sitting through the film’s parade of exposed brains and cartoon genitals. Though, to Vázquez’s credit, the contrast between the film’s grim subject matter and its bubbly, expressive 2D animation style is a big part of what makes the film so creepy.An antiwar and anti-religion fable, “Unicorn Wars” follows Bluey and Tubby as they train for battle in the forest, where they ingest hallucination-inducing worms and eventually slaughter a young unicorn, inciting the herd into horn-goring action. The bear soldiers are nothing like the ferocious grizzlies of lore, so they’re destined to be collateral damage.Naturally, the war is a sham, justified by some dusty religious text that deems unicorns evil, a myth that the repressed Bluey latches on to with notable zeal. Flashbacks to his troubled childhood — his parents’ divorce, his mother’s death — give reason for his power-mongering and jealous ways, his malice metastasizing despite Tubby’s generous supply of brotherly affection.The film has clear touchstones: it draws from the humanism and worldbuilding of Hayao Miyazaki, particularly “Princess Mononoke” and its civilization versus nature allegory — paying tribute as well to that film’s black-sludge-covered demons and ghoulish ape clan. In the brief unicorn sequences, whose animation style leans more toward the expressionistic, there are parallels with the forsaken doe in “Bambi.” But “Unicorn Wars” is forcefully provocative, trying too hard to push buttons at the cost of more nuanced explorations of masculinity and power. For Vázquez, a pile of cartoon corpses makes enough of a point.Unicorn WarsNot rated. In Spanish, with subtitles. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes. In theaters and available to rent or buy on most major platforms. More

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    ‘The Magic Flute’ Review: Mozart Meets C.G.I., With Help From a Tween

    A young tenor enters a world enlivened by computer graphics at a school devoted to the composer’s works in this Roland Emmerich-inspired film.The key to what this film has in store for you lies not with the name of the director (first timer Florian Sigl) nor the screenwriters (Andrew Lowery and Jason Young, whose respective filmographies elicit a reaction between “meh” and “yikes”). Rather, consider one of its producers, Roland Emmerich. The mastermind behind a variety of elaborate blockbusters with topics running the gamut from alien invasions (you may remember 1996’s “Independence Day”) to who the hell really wrote Shakespeare’s plays (you probably don’t remember 2011’s “Anonymous”), Germany’s insufficient answer to Baz Luhrmann here applies his imprimatur to a Mozart-for-tweens exercise.A young English fellow, Tim Walker (Jack Wolfe), gets shipped off to the fictional Mozart International School in Germany, the overall vibe of which is very Hogwarts for musos. Undercut by an imperious professor (F. Murray Abraham, hoping you remember “Amadeus,” or maybe not), distracted by a female schoolmate and ducking resident bullies, Tim nonetheless determines to earn the role of Prince Tamino in the school’s upcoming production of a Mozart opera. One evening that very opera’s three child spirits, doing something of a Tinkerbell bit, lead Tim to a passageway that drops him in the world of “The Magic Flute” itself. Over rugged terrain, he’s chased by a giant serpent, just like in the opera, only here it’s a CGI beast, just like in a Roland Emmerich movie. In a way it’s kind of neat. In another way it’s kind of dopey.The movie toggles between those two states throughout. But the tunes are nice, and it is novel, one could say, to hear them sung in non-operatic modes. Except in the case of the opera’s Queen of the Night, played by the acclaimed coloratura Sabine Devieilhe, who comes through with that famous high note.The Magic FluteNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 4 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘The Magic Flute’ Review: Mozart Meets CGI, With Help From a Tween

    A young tenor enters a CGI-enlivened world at a school devoted to the composer’s works in this Roland Emmerich- inspired film.The key to what this film has in store for you lies not with the name of the director (first timer Florian Sigl) nor the screenwriters (Andrew Lowery and Jason Young, whose respective filmographies elicit a reaction between “meh” and “yikes”). Rather, consider one of its producers, Roland Emmerich. The mastermind behind a variety of elaborate blockbusters with topics running the gamut from alien invasions (you may remember 1996’s “Independence Day”) to who the hell really wrote Shakespeare’s plays (you probably don’t remember 2011’s “Anonymous”), Germany’s insufficient answer to Baz Luhrmann here applies his imprimatur to a Mozart-for-Tweens exercise.A young English fellow, Tim Walker (Jack Wolfe), gets shipped off to the fictional Mozart International School in Germany, the overall vibe of which is very Hogwarts for musos. Undercut by an imperious professor (F. Murray Abraham, hoping you remember “Amadeus,” or maybe not), distracted by a female schoolmate and ducking resident bullies, Tim nonetheless determines to earn the role of Prince Tamino in the school’s upcoming production of a Mozart opera. One evening that very opera’s three child spirits, doing something of a Tinkerbell bit, lead Tim to a passageway that drops him in the world of “The Magic Flute” itself. Over rugged terrain, he’s chased by a giant serpent, just like in the opera, only here it’s a CGI beast, just like in a Roland Emmerich movie. In a way it’s kind of neat. In another way it’s kind of dopey.The movie toggles between those two states throughout. But the tunes are nice, and it is novel, one could say, to hear them sung in non-operatic modes. Except in the case of the opera’s Queen of the Night, played by the acclaimed coloratura Sabine Devieilhe, who comes through with that famous high note.The Magic FluteNot rated. Running time: 2 hours 4 minutes. In theaters. More

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    ‘Luther: The Fallen Sun’ Review: Psycho Filler

    A smoldering Idris Elba is no match for the preposterousness of this feature-length Netflix continuation of the popular BBC crime thriller.Movies have never quite figured out what to do with Idris Elba. Imposing, charismatic and dauntingly intelligent, Elba has so far been most memorable on television — his intense, thoughtful style feeding on the intimacy and character-building patience of episodic storytelling.Over five seasons on the BBC show “Luther” (2010-19), he played the titular London copper as a troubled, morally conflicted genius with an aversion to rules and an ongoing infatuation with a slinky psychopath (brilliantly played by Ruth Wilson). All wounded eyes and wool overcoat, Luther lumbered wearily from one grisly crime scene to another, losing loved ones and nabbing a series of increasingly implausible adversaries. Throughout, the character was a magnetic constant; the show’s problem was always finding villains worthy of him.And that’s exactly where “Luther: The Fallen Sun” (directed by Jamie Payne and written by the show’s creator and sole writer, Neil Cross) trips, falls and never recovers. The inexplicable choice of a smirking Andy Serkis as the murderous David Robey, a cyber-sicko with limitless resources and incalculable mental issues, elicits more chuckles than chills. Decked out at one point in a velvet blazer and turtleneck, hair teased into the likeness of a dead stoat, Robey is less demented sadist than disco king. The scene where the diminutive devil — hopping and hooded like the killer in “Don’t Look Now” (1973) — fights the towering Luther on a subway platform is nothing less than ludicrous.Body-mass differential aside, Luther and Robey are further hindered by a plot so dashed-off and indistinct that very little makes sense. Picking up generally where season five ended, with Luther heading to prison for his persistent vigilantism, this feature-length revival (streaming on Netflix) locks him up and gets him out with mystifying, head-spinning ease. Robey, seemingly assisted by a shadowy pod of followers, is busily hacking webcams and smart devices, recording shameful secrets and blackmailing their owners. For those who prefer to die rather than be exposed, Robey stages elaborate kill scenes, live-action tableaus that unfold with a pulpy majesty. In a movie that starts at fever pitch and rarely relents, these grisly interludes, captured by Larry Smith’s glowering camera, offer strangely haunting respites from the plot’s general chaos.Lacking dialogue to deepen the characters or reinforce their motivations, “Luther: The Fallen Sun” whooshes past in a rush of serial-killer clichés: an underground lair, a torture room, a masked maniac. Anonymous losers sit glued to computer screens, but the movie is so headlong and fragmented it’s unclear exactly what they’re watching or how Robey’s sleazy schemes are realized. It’s as if Netflix has tried to shoehorn an entire season of television into a little over two hours.The result might be more richly cinematic, but it’s infinitely cruder, with characters so underwritten that their possible demise excites no more than a shrug. Brief sightings of the wonderful Dermot Crowley, who returns as Luther’s melancholic superintendent, have a steadying effect, as does Cynthia Erivo as Luther’s fed-up superior. But it’s Elba himself, huddled miserably inside that overcoat in a rain-soaked Piccadilly Circus, that elicits a nostalgic thrill. Call me a pushover for tormented heroes and soulful tailoring.Luther: The Fallen SunRated R for flaming bodies, forced suicides and frightful hair. Running time: 2 hours 9 minutes. Watch on Netflix. More

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    ‘Champions’ Review: Following the Playbook

    This film directed by Bobby Farrelly has elements that recall “Kingpin” and “There’s Something About Mary.” But the ratio of tastelessness to sentimentality has been reversed.As “Dumb and Dumber” (1994) nears its 30th anniversary, its directors, Peter and Bobby Farrelly, have settled into what might regrettably be called a “mature phase.”The sibling filmmakers, once the go-to guys for raunchy-sweet comedy in Hollywood, have been making movies separately of late. Peter Farrelly directed “Green Book” (2018), whose best picture Oscar ensured that it will live forever as an exemplar of the academy’s retrogressive taste. Now Bobby Farrelly has turned out his first solo feature, “Champions,” in which an ill-tempered basketball coach is court-ordered to supervise a team of intellectually disabled athletes.It sounds, in outline, like material the Farrellys would have once treated with blithe irreverence. In “There’s Something About Mary” (1998), Matt Dillon’s character tried to impress Cameron Diaz’s by lying about exactly that kind of community service. And it stars Woody Harrelson, of the brothers’ “Kingpin” (1996). But this time, the ratio of tastelessness to sentimentality has been reversed.The Projectionist Chronicles the Awards SeasonThe Oscars aren’t until March, but the campaigns have begun. Kyle Buchanan is covering the films, personalities and events along the way.The Tom Cruise Factor: Stars were starstruck when the “Top Gun: Maverick” headliner showed up at the Oscar nominees luncheon.An Andrea Riseborough FAQ: Confused about the brouhaha surrounding the best actress nominee? We explain why her nod was controversial.Sundance and the Oscars: Which films from the festival could follow “CODA” to the 2024 Academy Awards.A Supporting-Actress Underdog: In “Everything Everywhere All at Once,” don’t discount the pivotal presence of Stephanie Hsu.Harrelson plays Marcus, an assistant basketball coach in Des Moines. Marcus’s problem, as the head coach he’s worked for (Ernie Hudson) explains, is that he never gets to know his players as people. (“Are we living in ‘Hoosiers’ now?” Marcus asks him, in a lame acknowledgment of the kinds of clichés the movie knows it’s repeating.)The protagonist’s drunken collision with a parked police car lands him in hot water with a judge (Alex Castillo) nicknamed Hanging Mary, who will let him avoid prison if he coaches the Friends, a Special Olympics team at a recreation center. Marcus initially thumbs his nose at the players, who all have trademark habits. Never showering. Always shooting backward from half-court. Knowing exactly what time a flight from Portland to Chicago should be flying overhead.But while the Farrellys of three decades ago gleefully cut against the grain of political correctness, Bobby this time seems to have embraced it, making a celebration of sensitivity and empowerment that is kindhearted without ever risking touching a comic third rail. The dispiriting experience of watching “Champions” is slowly realizing that, notwithstanding an off-color line here or there (a player with Down syndrome introduces himself as “your homie with an extra chromie”), it’s exactly the sort of formulaic crowd-pleaser that just about anybody might have directed.In fact, someone has: This is a remake of “Campeones,” a generally dire 2018 movie from Spain that won the top prize at the country’s Goya Awards but went unreleased theatrically here. The new screenplay, by Mark Rizzo, sticks closely to the original, though most of the changes (amping up the Marcus character’s mercenary careerism, revising a subplot about his love life) are improvements. The new version is certainly better-made and doesn’t gawk as cruelly at the Friends.The best case for “Champions” is made by the actors who play them, especially Madison Tevlin as the brassy Cosentino, the team’s sole female player, and Kevin Iannucci as Johnny, the shower resister. Conveniently, Johnny turns out to be the brother of an actress (Kaitlin Olson) whom Harrelson, before getting his assignment, had previously hooked up with on Tinder.If the romance thread gets the job done, Farrelly can’t do much with the sports movie tropes. Endless montages and near-random, what-decade-is-this? song choices (“Hey Ya!,” “Unbelievable”) chart the team’s progress. Marcus delivers a big-game locker room speech in which he tells the players that, win or lose, they are already champions, because of what they put up with every day. Depressingly, it’s not a joke.ChampionsRated PG-13. Drunken driving, sexual innuendo. Running time: 2 hours 3 minutes. In theaters. More