LeatherheadsReview by Russ Breimeier |
posted 4/04/2008
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As both actor and director, George Clooney clearly has a soft spot for the classics. Michael Clayton was made with '70s thriller-dramas in mind. Hipster comedies from the '60s inspired the Ocean's Eleven series. The Good German paid homage to Casablanca and The Third Man from the '40s. Behind the camera, Clooney captured the gaudiness of the '60s and '70s with Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and offered a stylish tribute to Edward R. Murrow and '50s television journalism in Good Night, and Good Luck.
Leatherheads, in which Clooney stars and directs, goes back even further in time to the '20s, and is somewhat reminiscent of two other old-fashioned comedies he did with the Coen Brothers. It has some goofy, old-time slapstick reminiscent of O Brother, Where Art Thou?, and like Intolerable Cruelty, it's clearly derived from screwball comedies. But as a romantic comedy set during the early days of professional football, Leatherheads is also more conventional (i.e. less unusual) than either of those films.
George Clooney as Bulldogs captain Dodge Connolly
With a script by Sports Illustrated writers Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly, Leatherheads is completely fictional but nevertheless inspired by historical fact. In the early 1920s, college football was as big as pro baseball, but professional football was considered a joke—sparsely attended free-for-alls with no established rules, running plays that relied as much on trickery as athletic ability. Teams recruited all sorts: farmers, miners, high school students, town drunks. The league itself was established as little more than an agreement for these little teams to play each other—an agreement that couldn't hold up over time, as teams succumbed to bankruptcy one by one. It wasn't until professional teams started hiring former college stars like Jim Thorpe and Red Grange that pro football began to draw an audience and turn a profit.
Which is precisely what happens with the Duluth Bulldogs in Leatherheads. Once the team goes bankrupt and disbands, veteran receiver Dodge Connolly (Clooney) decides that they could attract thousands of fans if they could only sign a deal with the right college football star. That star is Carter "The Bullet" Rutherford (John Krasinski of TV's The Office), a clean-cut all-American receiver, as well as a prominent WWI hero with a Presidential citation for single-handedly forcing a German platoon to surrender. Dodge offers a compelling argument and strikes a deal with Carter's manager CC Frazier (a very steely Jonathan Pryce), and the ploy pays off immediately, turning the Bulldogs into an overnight sensation by drawing crowds from all around.
John Krasinski as war hero Carter Rutherford
Except there's something about Carter's war story that doesn't quite add up—at least according to a source for the Chicago Tribune. So they assign tough reporter Lexie Littleton (Renée Zellweger) to root out the truth about the star player. As the Bulldogs rise to prominence, Lexie finds herself in a classic love triangle between Dodge, the aging buffoon with seemingly no redeemable qualities, and Carter, the wholesome celebrity she's trying to discredit to further her own career. Meanwhile, Dodge must come to terms with his feelings for Lexie and continuing to play football, a sport that is quickly outgrowing him as it becomes increasingly established.
Leatherheads is propelled by slapstick silliness, some of it laugh-out-loud funny, like the idea of 300-pound Big Gus as a high school student playing for the Bulldogs, or the polite brawl between Dodge and Carter. But it's just as often guilty for inducing eye-rolls—the Keystone Cops-styled chase from a speakeasy is a bit much. There are too many instances where it feels like Clooney is trying too hard to manufacture laughs, and usually ends up eliciting more chuckles and smiles than guffaws. His nods to old-fashioned comedy and classic filmmaking are also sometimes a little forced.
The banter between Lexie (Renee Zellweger) and Dodge is priceless
That said, Clooney and the screenwriters have nailed the snappy banter of a classic screwball comedy, particularly in his exchanges with Zellweger—Dodge: "I didn't come here to be insulted." Lexie: "Oh? So where do you usually go?" The one-liners are quick and clever, and the leads share a natural rapport—though I can't decide if it's awkward or an asset that the two actors used to date.