Like that football-punny title? I'm proud of myself for coming up with that, you know.
Let it be known that football is the only sport I really enjoy and can talk intelligently about. So, I was more than game for a movie with George Clooney (love him because he's charismatic, interesting, and a fine, fine man), Renee Zellweger (love her because she will always be Bridget Jones to me), and John Krasinski (love him because he is Jim from The Office and is also adorable) that also happened to be about football. I was at the fam's for a New Years' Day gathering that included less-than-normal football--since, if you hadn't heard, the Michigan Wolverines (my alma mater) tanked spectacularly this year, though not quite as spectacularly as the Detroit Lions, but I digress. Also, my dad had made his first use of the Netflix subscription I gave him for Christmas, and one of the films he rented was this one. So, watching Leatherheads seemed like the thing to do.
Clooney directed and starred in this film, playing a professional football player in the 1920s named Dodge Connolly. Back before there was a football commissioner, numerous and complicated rules to contend with, and decent injury-preventing equipment, football consisted of a bunch of men playing the game any old way they felt like and helmets made of leather (hence the title). That is, until the weight of the Great Depression and a lack of interest in the sport started bankrupting teams like the Duluth Bulldogs, for which Dodge plays. The trouble is, Dodge has made football his career, and he doesn't know how to do anything else. While down on his luck and considering his options, he hears of a star quarterback at Yale University named Carter Rutherford (Krasinski), nicknamed "The Bullett," who's a phenom at the game and is garnering a steady following and hordes of media attention. In fact, the media has branded him a war hero for single-handedly saving his battalion in World War I by forcing an attacking German force to surrender only to him, and they're selling that story like hotcakes. The story, however, seems too good to be true to the editor of the Chicago Tribune and his star cub reporter Lexie Littleton (Zellweger), who are determined to mete out the real truth behind the Bullett. While Lexie is waiting to meet Carter and his agent (Jonathan Pryce) for an interview, Dodge, who has concocted a scheme to get his football team back on track, decides to show up and insert himself into the proceedings, much to the chagrin of wisecracking, woman-in-a-man's-world Lexie. Yet, Dodge is able to convince Carter and his agent to come play for the Bulldogs, and Carter's notoriety and unquestionable skill begins to boost the sport's popularity, helped along by a few filler stories from Lexie. As Lexie digs deeper, however, Dodge and Carter begin vying for her affections, and as Carter's popularity grows, Dodge begins to realize that he might have created a monster, as the entire game of football begins to change substantially. Dodge finds he must come to grips with those changes while trying to hold onto the girl of his dreams.
Leatherheads was an interesting exploration in filmmaking and storytelling concepts that didn't quite achieve what they were aiming for. On the one hand, it's a romantic comedy, following the same semi-predictable formula of boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy spends movie trying to get girl, boy finally gets girl (or flip the roles around, but it's all the same). To Clooney and his screenwriters' credit, the filmmakers attempted to tweak that concept by hearkening back to films from the classic era and transforming the same old romcom formula into a screwball farce, complete with snappy, intelligent dialogue volleyed at lightning-fast pace and some absurd, even slapstick comedic scenes. Of course, this romantic situation was set against the backdrop of the development of professional football, which should make this a (wait for it) guys' romance but then, as Clooney has consistently done in films he's directed, there is a subtle exploration of how the media can create heroes and monsters by glorifying or villifying the right celebrity. If Clooney had put more focus into any one of these concepts, the film might have been better in the end, but the fact is, thrown into a giant mixing bowl of story as they are, the result is sort of a messy goo that has its good points and its not so good points.
Even if I were wont not to consider this movie as an exercise in art, with an intelligent and competent director like Clooney at its helm (because he's made some good flicks in the past, such as Good Night, and Good Luck), as strictly entertainment, the film falters. I laughed at points, like when Carter's arm caught on fire, but for the most part, I sat with a bemused smile on my face or was just a little bored. It's not that the jokes weren't funny; on the contrary, they might have been hysterical with better timing or better scenarios concocted for their execution. I think George as the actor was trying to bring back some of the elements of his performance in O Brother, Where Are Thou?, only with a bit more savvy and focus on his chosen profession, but either because he should have gone a different direction or because being a comedic actor and a director at the same time is hard, he didn't quite pull it off. He was probably the worst part of the film, and All Movie Guide's suggestion that there was some mugging on Clooney's part was on point. Renee did a good job as she nearly always does, giving the Lexie character a sassy, glamorous wash (Rosalind Russell is a good comparison). John Krasinski played his Carter as predominantly the straight man to good effect, and some of the supporting players, like a drunken reporter played by Stephen Root, were fun to watch, but for the most part, the film didn't leave me laughing.
And the truth is, there are some elements of the film that give it artistic sensibility and credibility. The cinematography and visual effects, including a sepia-hued camera tone that lent an old photograph feel, in addition to actual sepia photographs of the main characters used in the opening and closing credis, invoked a palpable days-bygone mood. There's a great visual effect of a 1920s version of downtown Chicago seen at a distance that was really cool, and the art direction, complete with automobiles and classically decorated hotel interiors, and the costume design truly helped to immerse the viewer in the period. Also, Clooney chose his soundtrack quite lovingly with some familiar and not-so-familiar but perfectly chosen ditties from the decade; the entire audio-visual experience was a cut above the rest and really helped to bring me back in time and suspend my disbelief about these modern-day actors.
Unfortunately, the film wasn't that funny to me, and it is ultimatley supposed to be a comedy. The romance was trite and predictable and not nearly as satisfying as it could have been. The screwball element is lost on some awkward timing, and the more serious and subtle commentary on the effects of the media was buried by all the other layers that didn't quite pan out. The only effective story told was how we arrived at the football of today, with its massively complicated rule structure.
Still, I enjoyed some elements of the film, not the least of which included some fine-looking men, and I laughed occasionally, which was why I'm inspired to give the movie a 6 for being cute but mediocre because that rating exactly encapsulates what I feel. As for the test, I don't see it passing. I might watch it again if it comes on cable, only because I rarely pass up a chance to see John Krasinski if I can help it, but it would not be watched if I bought it for my personal movie collection. The bottom line is that Leatherheads has some good plays in its playbook, but none of them are executed well enough to earn the movie that touchdown (see, I did it again!).