An NFL prospect who falls under the tutelage of an enigmatic star of the game who may have sinister intentions in Jordan Peele-produced “Him”
“Him” has a lot of potential, but mostly disappointment. Though it is teeming with ideas about sport, sacrifice, and legacy, they never become more than just that, ideas. Tyriq Withers, a genuine star-in-the-making, lights up the screen with every moment, but is ultimately let down by a weak screenplay and directorial vision.
“Him” is in theaters September 19th. Watch the trailer.
Few things are more terrifying to me than American Football. Pushing the limits of the human body, the toxic levels of testosterone, and the thirst for literal blood, sweat, and tears draw a visceral reaction. It is a culture and industry ripe for a horror movie. Frequently, director Justin Tipping’s “Him” draws comparisons between the sport and the gladiators of ancient times. So much of the way the sport (and business of the sport) is played today is akin to the forced violence of the Colosseum, where men are coerced into a spectacle. When the movie is actively drawing those comparisons, it finds its footing both thematically and narratively. The horrors feel close to reality. However, the movie too frequently strays from those ideas in favor of shock.
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Something that Jordan Peele, whose company Monkeypaw produced the movie, has perfected is using terror as a means to an end. Nothing feels gratuitous, and everything has a line back to his ideas. It’s something that “Him” lacks, specifically in its main characters. Cameron Cade (star-on-the-rise Tyriq Withers) has been tapped as the next best thing in football as he ends his college career and begins to weigh his prospects in the NFL. That is, until a devastating attack leaves him with a potential traumatic brain injury that threatens his campaign for greatness.
Not all is lost, however, when his agent (Jim Jeffries) reveals that football legend Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans) has invited Cam to train at his sprawling, isolated private compound. Over five days, in the dark, bruatlist passageways, Cam is treated to the highest quality care and training with the hope of reaching the heights of White’s career. And for White, he hopes he leaves a lasting legacy. However, as with all things that seem too good to be true, they often are.
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At first, Isaiah’s tutelage seems simply strict—no phones, no outside distractions, and no masturbation. However, very quickly, his instruction becomes increasingly devious as he strips Cam down—at times, literally—to his most animalistic tendencies. In one scene, perhaps the best of the film, Isaiah turns a passing drill into a game of survival. For each hesitation or dropped pass, Isaiah has a football shot into the face of a hapless free agent player desperate to get on his good side. It’s horrifying and forces Cam to be better, faster, and more than human.
However, moments like these feel few and far between as the horror begins to feel formulaic—terrifying training drill, calm tension-building recovery, jump scare to the next day. Wayans is menacing enough as a tormenter, but the screenplay doesn’t allow him to explore all the intricacies of Isaiah as a character. There’s an idea about success and sacrifice percolating in some scenes, but the movie never fully explores them. It is simply terror without meaning.
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By the time “Him” reaches its endgame, which is admittedly thrilling and shows flashes of the premise’s potential, there’s a sense of coldness. Unlike the rousing ending of Peele’s “Get Out” that feels like the natural conclusion, the finale of “Him” doesn’t feel earned. Instead, it simply ends because it must. Isaiah’s wife Elsie (a devilishly entertaining Julia Fox) and trainer (Tim Heidecker) add some amount of satisfaction to the conclusion, but you find yourself with more questions rather than answers.
“Him” feels like the outline of a great film. It has the ideas to form into a compelling story about greatness and sacrifice and the aesthetics to derive real terror as you push the human body to its limit, but it never fully combines those things into something that feels complete. Each scene simply feels like it attaches to that last with the thinnest of threads, and the characters all the same. Tyriq Withers is a movie-star-in-the-making and very often when the movie works, it’s because of his performance. But it’s all wasted potential. It’s all greatness gone to waste.
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Hey! I’m Karl. You can find me on Twitter and Letterboxd. I’m also a Tomatometer-approved critic.
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Hey, I’m Karl, founder and film critic at Smash Cut. I started Smash Cut in 2014 to share my love of movies and give a perspective I haven’t yet seen represented. I’m also an editor at The New York Times, a Rotten Tomatoes-approved critic, and a member of the Online Film Critics Society.