Like the show Friday Night Lights if you removed its soul, 1999’s Varsity Blues is filled with all the crude, country-fried stereotypes you might expect. Set in a small, football-fixated town, the film centers on Jonathan “Mox” Moxon (James Van Der Beek), the high school football team’s backup quarterback.

Although Mox has had a life-long love of gridiron, he’s also a secret egghead who desires to enter the Ivy League. But when his team’s starting QB (the late Paul Walker) is taken out by a bad knee injury, everything changes for ol’ Mox. He’s forced to step up to try to lead his team to victory, all while navigating the perils of adolescence and an increasingly antagonistic relationship with his brutish, demanding coach (the U.S. Special Envoy to Hollywood Jon Voight).

Director Brian Robbins is one of our time’s premier purveyors of schlock, and so it is unsurprising that Varsity Blues is a complete and utter mess with little discernable value. For one thing, the characters almost never move beyond parody. He literally introduces a character named Billy Bob by having him dip pancakes into peanut butter and guzzle mouthfuls of maple syrup.

Robbins’ gross, broad and generally slapdash handling of the material also extends to the film’s story. Although he’s basically playing Dawson again, a very young James Van Der Beek does his best to ground the proceedings with some much-needed heart. He’s entirely outmatched though by a malformed script that doesn’t give him or anyone else a coherent goal or clear arc. Without this, the overall story feels devoid of stakes, particularly as it ramps up to the final game of the season.

The movie’s production team does successfully give the film’s setting of an isolated West Texas town some undeniable grit and atmosphere. But even still, there isn’t enough meat on this cinematic brisket to satiate the appetites of even the most un-picky of viewers. The film’s rank misogyny – encapsulated in things like the iconic whip-cream bikini scene – also doesn’t help matters. It accentuates Varsity Blues’ unsavory vibes and makes you inclined not to bristle like a bucking bronco but instead scream “Yee-hah!” once the credits finally roll.