Essentially a 96-minute demented Gatorade commercial, Him asks the important question: “Can every line of dialogue in an entire movie be bad?” Yes! We’ve done it!
The first hour of this nearly-hilarious would-be horror film is basically a slightly worse CrossFit routine punctuated with a kind of visual flair that might have felt fresh in 1997. The last half hour is an unearned “go-for-broke” bit of bonkers that could have potentially redeemed the whole shebang, if only it had something to say. Not that anyone could ever condemn the perfect, moral, and unproblematic world of professional football…
As required by the U.S. constitution, I am a huge fan of said sport. However, it is impossible not to see the troubling interplay of race/class/ownership, patriotism, and gladiatorial blood sacrifice. Writers Zack Akers and Skip Bronkie and writer/director Justin Tipping also see that troubling interplay. The film points to it and says “See!” And we do. We do see it. Everyone does. Everyone already did. None of us needed to see this.
Him immediately creates a vibe of “uh oh.” And that’s not the good kind of “uh oh,” like “uh oh, this is scary.” This is “uh oh” like when a diaper-wearing toddler hides behind the couch for a minute. The first scene sees a young child watching what is obviously the Super Bowl but can’t be called the Super Bowl for licensing reasons. It is a scene filled with eek-inducing exposition and awkward acting, and it establishes that the young child wishes to grow up and be a quarterback like his idol. Fast forward and Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) is set to enter the fictional NFL while the top QB of all time, Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), is set to leave it.
Just before the draft, Cameron gets his head cracked open by someone wearing a costume that looks like the Mothman got a goat pregnant. With his future in doubt, Cameron accepts an invitation to train with his hero. He and Isaiah spend the next week engaging in increasingly hallucinogenic activities, none of which are creepy or thrilling so much as they are goofy.
The whole thing is goofy. And not in the same way as something like Hereditary, where the edges of humor and horror blend into transcendent absurdity. Comedians Tim Heidecker and Jim Jefferies have sizable roles, so it feels like Him was supposed to walk that border between ha-ha and uh-oh. But just like my beloved Chicago Bears, you laugh at it, not with it.
More upsetting is the fact that the whole movie, every bit of it, somehow feels like a montage. That is almost impressive. Almost. It’s like you’re never watching the meat of the movie. You’re only watching the bits that set up the meat of the movie. But then the meat never arrives. Worse still, the meat was right there…
It is easy to imagine a scary movie that turns the real-life fervor of football fandom into an explicitly terrifying cult. It is simple to see how to skewer and condemn the fact that exclusively white owners buy, sell, and trade mostly non-white players. It is impossible not to understand how the rituals of this sport lend themselves to folk horror. Him gets all of that and does nothing with it.
It is just dumb, exhausting, and upsetting. And I don’t need more of those feelings involved with football, as a Chicago Bears fan, I have all of that already.
Grade = F
Other Critical Voices to Consider
Murjani Rawls at Substream Magazine says “Him does a roundabout look at the somewhat unhealthy relationship where fans elevate athletes as deities and predominantly white ownership views Black star athletes as cattle for sport. However, the message is both overt and insufficient at the same time. Ultimately, you are left with a confusing 14-play drive that fails to result in a touchdown, the film’s ultimate goal.”
Tai Gooden at Nerdist says “Him’s cinematic approach to marrying football, body horror, and faith is truly a unique blend of taking the familiar visuals of the game and giving us a deeper vision into what happens in the body, thanks to cinematographer Kira Kelly (Shang Chi and Legend of the Ten Rings).”
Kristy Puchko at Mashable says “In the end, Him is a mixed bag, offering rich performances, unnerving scares — especially one involving a sauna — and food for thought in terms of sport, race, religion, and masculinity. But perhaps with Him, Tipping, who’s helmed episodes of sensational TV shows like The Chi and Dear White People as well as the calamitous true crime comedy series Joe vs. Carole, bit off more than he could chew.”
The post As a Chicago Bears fan, football is already scary enough appeared first on The Reader.
