Copa 71
Directed by Rachel Ramsay and James Erskine
Written by Rachel Ramsay, James Erskine, and Victoria Gregory
91 mins.
Shown at the Athena Film Festival, coming to US theaters this summer

by Daniel Pecoraro, Staff Writer

If you asked me who had the first hat trick in a Women's World Cup before Thursday night, I would have very confidently said Carli Lloyd, in 2015 against Japan.

It turns out I was wrong. It was Susanne Augusteen, for Denmark against Mexico. In front of a raucous crowd of 110,000 at the Estadio Azteca.

In August 1971.

I'm not alone in my wonderment seeing the historical footage found in Copa 71. The film even begins with Brandi Chastain, winning penalty taker in the 1999 World Cup (and now college coach in Santa Clara), looking at the footage on a tablet. Through this footage and interviews, Rachel Ramsay and James Erskine have spun sports history gold with this new doc.

The film takes us through the experiences of players from the six invited nations (Argentina, Denmark, England, France, Italy, and the Mexican hosts). The Copa Mundial Femenil was borne partially of the Men's World Cup the previous year, with speculative businessmen trying to capitalize on the infrastructure from Mexico ‘70 with a novel tournament (after the previous Martini-Rossi Cup). At the time, the women’s soccer world was small — largely by design. Football associations — starting with the English FA and radiating across Europe and South America — banned women from playing in accredited stadiums or being part of sporting clubs as a section equal to men, despite the early commercial demand for (or at least curiosity about) the women’s game. Brazil and Italy even had outright criminal bans against women playing soccer, as dean of football historians David Goldblatt notes in the doc.

But the love of the game is beyond the reach of the law and of chauvinist football execs. From Elena Schiavo (Italy), regarded as one of the best to play the game in her time, to Carol Wilson (England), who captained the team in the challenging group stage, the six squads made their way to England, many on the first flight of their lives. And as they endure training at altitude and generally exude old-school cool, the Mexican fans in CDMX and Guadalajara greet them in large numbers.

It’s all very moving, seeing the crowds at Estadios Azteca y Jalisco and hearing them roar (and conversely, those same throngs quieted to stillness in the grand final), the emotion on the face of the players then in match footage and today in talking-heads. But it’s also angering, as football associations quash attempts for the game to grow, and as cup organizers refuse to compensate the players even after the Mexican team stages a strike ahead of the final. (Those chants of “Equal Pay” around the stadium in Lyon and in the Canyon of Heroes in 2019 were not far off from the advocacy of captain Silvia Zaragoza and goalkeeper Elvira Aracén back in ‘71.)

In some ways it’s unsurprising that historical memory of this WWC was erased. Ramsay and Erskine (along with co-writer and producer Victoria Gregory) show how the extensive coverage of the tournament still casually sexualized the players (“Soccer Goes Sexy South of the Border,” read one headline) and note that the players were purposefully dressed in short-shorts as part of their kits. Which makes the recognition, and the agency, of those players in this film that much more powerful. The film closes with the English team, the “Lost Lionesses,” in attendance at the Finalissima against Brazil at a packed Wembley Stadium, after their recent reunion by the FA. May the Lost Lionesses, Schiavo, and Zaragoza be recognized in the pantheon of WoSo alongside the likes of the 99ers, Marta, Rapinoe, Hegerberg, Kerr, and Bonmatí. And may the women’s game see, and overpass, the heights reminiscent of Copa 71.