Starring Carly Schroeder and Christopher Shand. Rated PG.

It's 1978 in South Orange, New Jersey, a place where mullets rule and high-school sports are all about the testosterone. Girls are expected to shut up and be grateful for the opportunity to play grass hockey. In Gracie, 15-year-old Grace Bowen (the captivating Carly Schroeder) has other ideas. Devastated by the death of her soccer-star brother in a car accident, she decides to honour his memory by trying out for the boy's soccer team.

As it turns out, Grace truly loves the sport and has all the raw talent to excel. The problem? None of the guys—including the macho head coach—want her to play. In the kind of underhanded game where on-field strategy can involve a punch in the nose from one of your own teammates, nobody offers Grace much hope. And her downtrodden mom (a mousy-looking Elisabeth Shue) isn't exactly the kind of woman who subscribes to Ms. magazine. "You're a girl," she points out by way of initial advice. "That means sometimes you have to eat the shit sandwich."

But the unkindest cut of all comes when Grace's dad (a perfectly cast Dermot Mulroney) refuses to help her train for a spot on the team. Bryan Bowen was a gifted soccer player before a knee injury ended his playing days, and the only bright spot in his dreary life is teaching his boys the finer points of the game. After the death of his eldest son, he becomes even more sullen and uncommunicative than usual. The only spark left in him flares up when he insists his daughter stop obsessing about playing soccer.

Bryan's attitude begins to change when he realizes that Grace is cutting classes and throwing herself at boys. Desperate to stop the slide, he reluctantly agrees to coach her. It's not hard to guess what happens next. Director Davis Guggenheim certainly doesn't shy away from any of the sentimental pleasures so typical of this genre. At the same time, there are some surprisingly dark and brooding touches here. At heart, Gracie aspires to be one tough little movie. Although it doesn't have the working-class grit of a song by Springsteen, it's still smart enough to crank up the Boss and keep plowing toward the goal.