HIM

Producer-writer-director Jordan Peele has quickly developed quite a reputation for making horror flicks/psychological thrillers that undeniably push the envelope of these genres, turning out creations unlike anything most moviegoers have ever seen. In the process, he has often packed his pictures with much for viewers to process on multiple levels as they walk out of the theater. And, in his latest offering, in which Peele has acted as producer, handing over the writing and directing responsibilities to filmmaker Justin Tipping, he has overseen the birth of yet another release in the same vein as previous projects like “Get Out” (2017), “Us” (2019) and “Nope” (2022) – only this time on steroids and laced with a touch of crack. “Him” tells the story of Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers), a pro football prospect who’s looked upon by many as the sport’s next quarterback G.O.A.T. (i.e., “greatest of all time”). His future looks bright until he experiences a baffling yet devastating head injury at the hands of disturbed fan teetering on the edge of sanity. So, in an effort to reinvigorate his skills (and to rejuvenate his career), he agrees to be taken under the wing of veteran hurler Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), a QB who led his team to eight championships but is now on the fence about retirement. When the recovering protégé begins his mentorship under the sports legend, however, he gets much more than he bargained for. He enters a world in which he becomes ensconced in a dizzying mix of hyper-ambition, psychological gamesmanship, professional jealousy and an aberrant culture that gleefully and relentlessly celebrates mind-numbing brutality. Given Cam’s precarious mental state in the wake of his injury, combined with an onslaught of conflicting messages, mind games and bizarre occurrences that straddle the borders of reality, he struggles to make sense of it all, particularly when it comes to deciding whether to embrace or abandon the world of which he’s about to become a part. His existence turns surreal, confusing, and, above all, troubling. He has some big decisions to make, provided if he’s even capable of thinking straight at this point. But the film is about more than just Cam’s struggle to hold on to his sanity in the face of his mentor’s malevolence, gaslighting and questionable motives; it’s also a strong statement about the bloodsport culture of football and the ways in which society has come to worship it as something akin to a perverse religious cult. In fact, the narrative is riddled with ominous Biblical and Satanic symbolism, elements that have been suitably tweaked to reflect the nature of the world of pro football and the exalted position it’s been accorded in contemporary society. Yet, curiously enough, in making its case, the film tells a tale that alternates between being deadly serious with its troubling imagery and not taking itself seriously at all with its astutely timed sinister comic relief, walking a precarious tightrope of moods that keeps viewers guessing about what’s really going on here. In the process, it provides a perfect showcase for Wayans to show off acting chops that most of us probably never knew he possessed; his ability to switch gears and turn on a dime and make it look effortless is truly impressive. Add to those qualities the film’s breakneck pacing, edgy film editing, stunning visuals and eclectic production design, and you’ve got a cinematic rollercoaster that’s sure to leave you exhilarated, exhausted and unnerved by the time the credits roll. Now, this is not to suggest that the film is without problems. The narrative is excessively overstuffed and somewhat unfocused at times (no doubt to try and convey what it’s like to be in Cam’s head under these circumstances), and its various messages can be more than a little obvious and heavy-handed on occasion. However, even if “Him” is not perfect, Tipping and Peele should be commended for trying to breathe new life into a genre that’s been releasing a steady stream of lame, half-baked offerings of late, and I’ll take this offering over any of its underwhelming wannabe peers any day of the week.

Horseface

More racist slop from Jordan "Neo Nazi" Peele. This time with absolutely zero redeeming features. Dude should've either quit after Get Out or gone into therapy to address his racism so it wouldn't eat up his remaining talent. Insufferable, bad, boring, racist, zzzzzzzzzzz

CinemaSerf

We start off watching a young lad glued to the television where his American footballing idol “Isaiah” (Marlon Wayans) is out to set some records. An injury ensues during that game before we spool on until the young lad himself is now a budding superstar (Tyriq Withers) and after he’s been rather brutally thwacked on the head and suffered some brain swelling, his hero invites him to train at his underground desert compound where it becomes very clear that not only did he recover, mysteriously, from his on-field injury many years earlier but that he went on to become a legend of his sport. “Cam” is completely phased by his new opportunity but once he has met his idol, his rather bizarre wife and their enigmatic physician-cum-trainer he becomes increasingly aware that there are more than just the obvious ice baths and sacrifices to be made. Originally, I thought there might be an element of the horror to this. Maybe something along the lines of that Charlie Daniels song? Then I thought it was just an excuse for attractive men to glisten up with sweat and wrestle about on the floor? Then I thought I’d forgotten to buy milk - and that’s when I realised that I had no idea what I was watching, nor why. Sure, we get the usual work hard to play hard vibe as well a sense of the dedication and perseverance needed to thrive, but there’s neither much of a plot nor any character development and once you’ve seen Withers in a towel for the tenth time, even that begins to wear (but not come) off. This is a really disappointingly self indulgent piece of cinema that culminates ridiculously and left me cold. Perhaps I just wasn’t in the right mood, but I thought this a waste of ninety minutes.