This movie had a great trailer that lied. About everything, including the director. Where it promised a mind-bending parable about faith and football, what emerges is the film equivalent of CTE: violent, confused but ultimately brain-dead. Everything is loud and hallucinatory, almost a sensory assault, with a lot of flash, committed performances and unfulfilled aspiration towards substance. The standout of this film is Marlon Wayans delivering a career high alternating between dramatic, and absolutely gonzo intensity, but Tyriq Withers also delivers a fantastic and understated performance that contrasts nicely. Thematically the movie strives for profundity, with ambition to deliver a critique of sports culture and its cult-like devotion alongside commentary on the cost and sacrifice required for greatness. But ambition is not achievement, and the fractured narrative and botched execution steal the glory from elements that actually work. There is technical merit, the visuals are brash and distinctive, and the cinematography is sometimes brilliant, with some gorgeous sets and striking vibrant palettes. Ultimately, this movie demonstrates a frustrating mess of style over substance, a fever dream of excess that will leave one dazed, mildly-impressed, half-irritated, and maybe mentally bruised.
HIM (2025)