Producer Jordan Peele and director Justin Tipping’s visual flare can’t cover for an obvious, halfhearted play on football life in Him.
Don’t worry everyone, the NFL is still ok. Sure, the trailers and plot synopsis of Him may lead you believe the life of a professional football player is nothing but physical strife, mental anguish, and seedy people surrounding you for just a taste of your glory. But that’s not because of toxic masculinity or poor safety protocols or greedy businessmen mistaking their net worths for their egos. Heavens no, it’s all because of satanic cults! So as long as you don’t make deals with devils, your sons can keep ramming their heads into each other and getting emotionally abused by old bearded men and signing with corporations that won’t swindle money away from them by nefarious means. If any of that does happen, Him is here to tell you it’s certainly not the NFL’s fault. Concussions, mental scarring, and rampant capitalism is all because of that mean old Mr. Devil. Play on, boys!
Cam Cade (Tyriq Withers) grew up with only one dream: to play pro football for the San Antonio Saviors (wink wink) in honor of his late father. Though a major college prospect, his dreams are jeopardized by a masked figure who gives Cam a concussion (and a few staples in his head, to boot). Then his energetic agent (Tim Heidecker) tells him he can try out for the Saviors in a secluded camp for one week. The real kicker is who’ll be training Cam: eight-time champion and legendary quarterback Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), who may be on the verge of retirement. Surrounded by a leering doctor (Jim Jefferies) and Isaiah’s ditzy wife (Julia Fox), Cam starts to notice strange things happening between drills and deadlifts. Is it just the life of a football legend, or something more sinister?
Trick plays.
Photo Credit: Universal Pictures
Him is the major studio debut for co-writer/director Justin Tipping, along with co-writers Skip Bronkie and Zack Akers. Critiquing the physical and mental demands of being a football star with the framing of a horror film is an ambitious task and likely why Oscar-winner Jordan Peele signed on as a producer. Sadly, Tipping and his team are trying to have their cake and eat it too by showcasing the hard knocks of football culture without making specific or more cutting jabs at the NFL’s flawed system. Even a movie like Concussion, which was accused of softening its story to protect the league, still used real teams, players, and game footage to emphasize how serious CTE is and how harshly the multi-billion dollar organization dismissed it. With Him, Tipping and co. avoid digging into pro football’s obsession with constant intensity, strange wellness methods, gargantuan egos, and boys being boys even if someone gets hurt. It’s all explained away by supernatural means and religious allegories that are so obvious and half-baked, a sledgehammer to the head would be less subtle.
All of that toothless critique aside, Him is also not a very effective horror movie. At least Tipping makes good use of shadows to build tension for the occasional jump scare. There’s even the air of Italian slashers in this with increasing amounts of gore and some scenes being bathed in red lighting to signify Cam’s descent to hell. Still, Him is more focused on flashy montages of weight training and freaky health treatments than crafting a looming boogeyman or setting up the mentor-mentee relationship in an interesting way. In fact, the movie could’ve been far more interesting if there wasn’t any supernatural element to it. There’s plenty of meat to the story of a hot young prospect and an aging legend bonding and competing for a chance at true glory that goes terribly wrong. Think Foxcatcher or, in an abstract way, The Substance. But again, Him doesn’t have the time or the thought to dig deeper into its two leads and instead throws another hastily edited music video in your face to keep things “creepy.”
Cutting the roster.
Photo Credit: Universal Pictures
Him features twin lead performances that create something of a balance. Withers makes for a fine babe in the woods, looking just oblivious enough to not see something’s wrong at training camp. Even though the script doesn’t give him much to sink his teeth into, he tries to deepen Cam’s emotional scars that make for a well-rounded (if slightly bland) protagonist. Wayans, on the other hand, is going for the jugular. He rises to whatever occasion Him throws out, whether it be a somber self-reflection in the steam room or ruthless torture during practice. Some of his dialogue is generic copies of the usual football jargon (way too many mentions of being “the GOAT”), but that’s on the script. Where Withers brings quiet innocence, Wayans responds with uncomfortable intensity.
The rest of the cast just sort-of circles around the town leads to middling effect. It’s nice that Fox still knows to bring humor to the dumb blonde archetype, though you wish she had more screen time to really devour the role of a trophy wife. It’s also nice that Peele keeps casting comedians in horror movies, with Heidecker once again playing a slimy yuppie too oblivious to see he’s in a no-win situation. Jefferies is a nice surprise not only for his comic timing, but also for having a nice dramatic monologue halfway through the movie.
The bottom line.
It’s a shame that Him can’t live up to its own hype. The NFL and football culture are so omnipresent and warped that they deserve a good ribbing. Sadly, Him doesn’t have a smart enough script to overcome the hurdles of taking on such layered subjects. Its symbolism is heavy-handed, its commentary is half-hearted, and it doesn’t even have anything memorably scary. It’s a half-baked play that can’t complete a pass. It’s a 90-yard return for the other team. Flag on the play. Touchdown! Sports!
Him is now playing in theaters everywhere. Watch the trailer here.
Images courtesy of Universal Pictures. Read more articles by Jon Winkler here.
REVIEW RATING
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Him - 3/10
3/10
