Him: a sports horror with a fascinating premise but a pretentious outcome

Who among the many fans, even in our country, of Jordan Peele's cinema and the black horror of which he is an undisputed master, hasn't hoped that his trademark, even if only as a producer, would finally bring to the cinema a solid genre film about American sports culture, that secular religion that transforms men into demigods and bodies into weapons of mass distraction?

Cameron Cade was just a child when, driven by the guidance of his now deceased father, he aspired to become like his idol, quarterback Isaiah White, star player of the San Antonio Saviors. Growing up, Cade worked hard to break through on the university field, to the point of being noticed as a young prodigy destined for sure success. But one evening he is attacked by a masked individual, suffering a severe head trauma that could end his career forever. White himself comes to his aid, proposing that he spend a period of rehabilitation at his estate in the middle of the desert, where he can undergo rigorous training to return stronger than before. But not everything is as it seems...

Him: football as a reason for life... and death

Over the course of an hour and a half of Him, it feels like watching a succession of TV commercials haphazardly piled up, within a narrative that aims to convey various messages about the world of mass media and the idolatry of sport which, changing disciplines according to latitudes, is widespread in every corner of the planet. And it's a shame, because ideas are certainly not lacking in a screenplay that intends to reflect precisely on fame and the consequences that derive from it, with the obsession of being the best - that GOAT we so often hear mentioned in competitive contexts - declined in a horror verve with increasingly psychedelic and absurd tones.

Thus, a fascinating initial premise is wasted in a narrative that "slacks off" and misses the mark on several occasions, with secondary characters straight out of a routine dark imaginary and unnecessarily violent situations that are ultimately pointless, leading to an epilogue with even more surreal tones that makes what was seen previously seem like a big joke.

Flashes in a narrative that says little

As mentioned, there are positive aspects; Justin Tipping's direction – in his second feature film after the convincing debut adventure Kicks (2016) – has a certain personality, and several sequences are undoubtedly striking from an aesthetic and stylistic point of view. But events unfold without actual coherence and continuity, in a flow of situations that exacerbate the rivalry between the two main characters, a kind of student and master engaged in an increasingly no-holds-barred confrontation.

In an R&B and black power imaginary, immersed therefore in African American culture, the heated confrontation takes place between the star who was and the one who perhaps will be, played respectively by Marlon Wayans and Tyriq Withers, each having embraced their respective roles with the right motivation, ready for that showdown that will shatter certainties and put body and mind to the test. 

But the game doesn't hold up for long, just for that first half hour that establishes the rules, only to then either not respect them or derail into progressively more ambitious and incoherent content, in a melting pot of suggestions and emotions to concoct a confused genre hodgepodge.