Him Review: A Watchable But Ultimately Forgettable Horror Flick

It's surprising that there aren't more horror movies about American football. It's a uniquely violent, intense, and fanatical sport, one defined by levels of devotion and sacrifice that feel downright ritualistic. Its place within American culture, the thorniness of its intersection with racial politics, of the exploitative nature of ownership — all ripe for cinematic exploration. That's why it's such a shame that "Him," the new film from director Justin Tipping, is such an unremarkable effort. (Before you catch it in theaters, check out our rundown video.) 

Pushed to the populace as a Jordan Peele movie, though he's merely a producer, the film's marketing materials leveraged a well-cut trailer chock full of startling imagery, a mysterious plot, and release date synergy with the NFL being back in season. But now that the film is here, it feels like the promise of the previews will remain unfulfilled.

"Him" is a decent time at the movies and possesses an impressive sense of execution. It's just that the vision its putting forth feels like one we've seen a lot of in recent years, and some pretty pictures and scene stealing moments from the performers can't overcome the sense we've been here before.

"Him" centers on the unconventional mentorship between two quarterbacks. Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) is a young a collegiate superstar on the verge of getting drafted into the USFF (a fictional stand-in for the NFL). He grew up watching Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), an eight-time champion who survived a career-ending injury to become the singular face of the league. When we meet Cam, it's as a child, witnessing a bone in Isaiah's leg burst out through his skin live on television. Cam's father won't let him look away, telling him that's what makes someone a real man: "Sacrifice."

Days before the combine, Cam is struck in the head by a mysterious assailant, putting his future in jeopardy. When Cam misses the opportunity to run drills and tests in front of prospective teams, his agent (Tim Heidecker) hooks him up with Isaiah, who is contemplating retirement. For a chance with Isaiah's team, the Saviors, Cam must spend a week at Isaiah's compound to see if he's got what it takes to potentially succeed him as QB1.

Initially, there's a lot to like here. The set-up is smart. The tone is well established. Justin Tipping does a great job leaning into a pervasive sense of dread, of the foreboding world of high-end pro sports looking as strange and anxiety-inducing as it must feel to Cam. There's a strong moment where an absurd looking fan seems like they're a nightmare made manifest, a waking hallucination right out of "Jacob's Ladder," only to be revealed to just be a guy who wants an autograph. He looks so craven and unsettling because he's painted up for a tailgate party, not because he's a demon from Cam's innermost fears.

Those bits are often played like comedic moments of release, balancing horror and comedy in the vein Jordan Peele initially popularized with "Get Out." (Heidecker in particular steals a lot of moments with laugh out loud line deliveries himself.) But it's in the relationship between Cam and Isaiah that reaps the most dividends. Wayans is a force in the role, given more space to show off his range, both dramatic and comedic, than he usually does. His Isaiah is manic and unpredictable, yes, but when there's room for quieter moments, he's just as believable and sincere. 

Wayans' presence and liveliness on screen makes up for how flat Withers is in the lead. He has little flashes of interesting decisions but both the part on the page and the performer bringing it to life feel like hollow cyphers. (Julia Fox is also a standout as Isaiah's wife, a Kim Kardashian type who similarly splits the difference between seeming like an earnest lifeline for Cam and another dangerous force he must be wary of.) Perhaps if "Him" was more in the vein of "Whiplash" and focused entirely on the mentor/student relationship and questions of what it takes to achieve greatness, it would have a chance to be memorable. Instead, it retreads well traveled roads.

As it moves further into genre, "Him" falters by retracing the steps of several other thrillers from recent memory. It bears no shortage of similarities to this year's "Opus," with focusing on a rich, elite figure with an off the grid compound where nothing is what it seems. Or last year's "Blink Twice," focusing on a rich, elite figure with an island where nothing is what it seems. Structurally and tonally, it's not that dissimilar from "The Menu" either, because apparently we are in a cultural moment where the world is under siege by the unseen decisions made by the 1% from their clandestine fortresses. It's just unfortunate when we peel back that curtain, we seem to keep running into the same tropes, the same plodding reveals and the same unsatisfying conclusions. "Him" falls down this trap so thoroughly that it leapfrogs over a lot of potential. 

There is one particular passage early on that feels like a window into the better film "Him" could have been; it's the lead up to his inciting injury. Cam is back in his hometown from college, preparing for the combine. He's left alone on the football field he played on in high school, throwing spirals at the goal post with precision. Each doink he hits off the enormous yellow frame makes a vivid noise and the entire structure vibrates like a tuning fork. One of the balls lands and begins to spin on its edge, swirling and swirling hypnotically until Cam is transfixed by the very unreality of its motion. Then he's clubbed in the back of the head.

The scene possesses a power and an intrigue that the rest of the film fails to sustain. "Him" wavers largely because it writes itself into the same corner the aforementioned similar pictures all suffer from. It starts out with a leg up on those other films by being less ambitious and tackling a specific sport and its trappings. But by the third act, it devolves into something too far removed from the framework of football and misses by never showing us a real, actual game where many of the dangling concepts and threads could be more dynamically realized.

"Him" isn't a bad watch. It might even be fond to revisit in a few years when it reruns on television. But in the time between now and then, it'll likely evaporate from memory, ready to be rediscovered anew by a mind that seldom gave it another passing thought.

"Him" premieres in theaters on September 19.