Engineering a winning cross between Hoosiers, Miracle and Remember the Titans should be a slam dunk. And while sneaker and beverage endorsements aren't in the offing, Glory Road is somewhat effective. The filmmakers choose not to delve into any aspect of their familiar gameplan, making it easier to realize their goal of producing a commercially viable, one-dimensional movie.  

That single dimension -- imparting a history lesson about segregation -- is important. The fact-based sports drama centers on the Texas Western basketball squad, which ended the racial madness of the period when it beat Kentucky to win the 1966 NCAA Division 1 Championship. The small El Paso mining school left an indelible mark on collegiate sports. Don Haskins (Josh Lucas) broke a shameful barrier by being the first coach of a Southern team to put an all-black starting lineup on the court during that game.

Ironically, Glory Road doesn't play as a classic underdog tale unless you focus on how much things have changed. Audience members unfamiliar with the need for a Civil Rights movement and accustomed to contemporary sports can't be faulted for assuming the African-American athletes will dominate. Yet the outcome seems pre-ordained mostly due to a lack of filmmaking finesse evidenced by, among other things, the shameless use of soul and R&B music.

This in-your-face quality, to be expected from a Jerry Bruckheimer production, keeps the movie in permanent drill mode. Pressing the ball down the court at breakaway speed, without regard for any nuance involving character or historical context, eliminates the possibility of a well-rounded film. The upside is that many clichés are glossed over, although many still remain.

Mrs. Haskins (Emily Deschanel) finishes high on the list of neglected coaches' wives, ignored by the two screenwriters rather than her husband -- to the extent that their meaningful glance at the end isn't. Lucas, who's shaping up to be a Dennis Quaid-Matthew McConaughey combo, never buckles in his portrayal of Haskins, formerly a High School girls coach.  Jon Voight, wearing a bulbous putty nose that looks like it might drop to the hardwood at any moment, has the role of legendary Kentucky coach Adolph Rupp, who's painted as a blatant racist.

Glory Road doesn't achieve cinematic glory because it fails to add personality or connect to anything beneath the surface. Its mechanical nature doesn't engender care for anyone involved. Their victory may have changed "everything" in college basketball, but it doesn't appear to have changed any individual's life. A little more hot-dogging, as opposed to solid team play, would have helped the movie, if not the Miners' championship season.

(Released by Buena Visa Pictures and rated "PG" for racial issues including violence and epithets, and momentary language.)