One of the first shots of the film "Leatherheads" (2008) is of a cow standing in a quiet field, chewing his cud. Seemingly out of nowhere, 11 men in leather helmets and dusty jerseys rush by, exit the frame, and then re-enter, ending up in a huge man-pile on the ground. Meanwhile, the cow simply continues to chew cud and stare straight ahead. At some points while watching "Leatherheads," I felt like that cow.
"Leatherheads" is a romantic screwball comedy about the birth of the great American game of football that tries too hard to be cute, manly and thought-provoking at the same time. A warmly lit scene of a tender kiss between two of the main characters is followed directly by one of the most bizarre fistfights I have ever seen, all while dealing with the topic of journalistic ethics a la "Never Been Kissed" (1999). With such rapid mood swings consuming the entire movie, I often didn't know whether to laugh or cringe.
George Clooney both directs and acts in "Leatherheads." He plays the aging professional football player Dodge Connelly who is bent on legitimizing the game, which was, apparently, one big joke during the 1920s. Early on in the movie, when a group of sports reporters question a college star about his plans after college, one of the reporters suggests going pro. The men all stop -- think about it -- and share a hearty laugh.
Starring alongside Clooney are Oscar-winner Renee Zellweger ("Cold Mountain," 2003) and John Krasinski, best known as Jim from "The Office." Krasinski plays Carter "The Bullet" Rutherford, a former war hero turned college football-star whom Clooney's character recruits in order to save his team from bankruptcy. Feisty reporter Lexie Littleton from the Chicago Tribune (Zellweger) tags along with instructions to ruin Carter's falsely built reputation -- a story that has the potential to earn Lexie her rightful place at the assistant editor's desk.
Sounds like a good enough plot. The screenplay, however, written by two former Sports Illustrated journalists Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly, fails to deliver. Despite a few chuckle-worthy moments, I watched the film with "I've-seen-this-all-before" indifference.
In what could have been an act of advertising genius, "Leatherheads" takes its cues from a multitude of different genres: romantic comedy, comedy comedy, and, of course, the classic athletic-underdog story. The problem is that the film comes off more as a caricature of each genre, and less like a cohesive effort.
Channeling legendary 1930s screwball comedies, Brantley and Reilly's screenplay is chock full of slapstick and quick-paced banter. Clooney and Zellweger do an admirable job rattling off their lines at lightning speed and the audience gets a laugh or two from the muddy field"induced mishaps -- but the comedy, overall, feels a bit contrived. I'm pretty sure that Brantley and Reilly thought that if they could keep the audience mildly amused, they could pull off making a movie. Not so, guys.
Not surprisingly, the film fails as a romantic comedy as well. I never doubted that Clooney and Zellweger's characters would end up together, and if I had, I don't think I would have cared.
"Leatherheads" has its fair share of entertaining moments. With such an accomplished cast, how could it not? Clooney, as always, has just the right amount of charm (and dashing good looks) to win over an audience. Zellweger portrays Lexie adorably with her signature pursed lips. And Krasinski is sufficiently dorky as the young, straight-laced Princeton student (his signature pose is a thumbs up coupled with an embarrassingly large grin). Overall, the cast does a surprisingly good job of acting a surprisingly mediocre script.
But a film can't expect to get by entirely on its stars' effortless charm -- though "Leatherheads" has plenty of that -- it's not quite enough. The movie leaves you wishing that it had been written by a screenwriter, instead of a pair of sports journalists.
