Produced by Oscar-winner Jordan Peele (so much so that some people thought he directed this one) and directed/co-written by up-and-comer Justin Tipping (Kicks), Him is either the extreme version of a hazing ritual gone wrong or it’s the feverish product of the lead character’s concussed brain. Whether it’s either of those or something else entirely, it’s meant to tell a tale about a young, promising quarterback, Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers, I Know What You Did Last Summer) who many believe is a prime candidate to be the greatest football player of all time. The only thing stopping him is the current G.O.A.T. and Cameron's new teammate, Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), Cam’s childhood hero, who the team has asked to mentor the upstart.
Cameron is still technically recovering from a brain injury, received when a guy in a mascot costume clobbered him over the head (don’t ask me to explain because the film doesn't bother to), and while doctors are telling him to take his time getting back to any kind of football-related activity, he knows that training with his hero is now or never. Hinting that he may be retiring after eight championship seasons, Isaiah invites Cameron to his home training facility, which seems like something more out of a science fiction movie than a sports film, and the two go about a rigorous routine that seems to emphasize mental toughness more than any type of physical ability.
Isaiah and his crew of friends, players, and women (including his wife, played by Uncut Gems star Julia Fox) mess with Cameron relentlessly. They poke fun at his late father—anything to break his concentration and unravel his confidence. But during this regimen, Cameron also sees other players brutalized, all in the name of getting on Isaiah’s good side and wanting to look tough in front of the greatest player in the league. We can’t tell if Isaiah is trying to break the man who will take his place or if he sees potential in Cameron and really wants him to succeed. Whatever the answer, what Cameron is put through is nothing short of torture.
Him essentially boils down to a whole lot of screaming, sports cliches about being a winner that are meant to pass for dialogue, and an unclear sense of what is real and what isn’t. There are supporting characters, including Tim Heidecker as Cameron’s agent, who sees dollar signs every time he looks at his guaranteed first-round draft pick; and comedian Jim Jefferies in a role I barely understood, but he’s at least amusing to a degree.
I walked away from Him fully believing that director Tipping thinks football is the worst thing imaginable, especially for the male ego. The sport reduces people to a series of bumper-sticker quotes about winning and pain and pushing forward, both in interviews and amongst themselves; it’s exhausting. But in the film, we add screaming and horror elements, complete with graphic injuries, loads of blood, and nightmare experiences for Cameron that lead us to believe that he’s headed for a psychotic break. If not that, perhaps one of the great athletes that kids can look up to—two sides of the same demented coin.
But the film doesn’t give us something that thoughtful or coherent; it’s vapid, flaccid, and confused—the screenplay is concussed in many ways. And by the time it was over, I was bored and shifting in my seat. It’s incredible that just the night before, I sat through a two-hour, 45-minute film that flew by, but at around 95 minutes, Him felt endless. More troubling, this movie officially makes it impossible to trust Peele’s name on any film as a producer. That might be the true tragedy at play here.
The film is now playing in theaters.
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