HIM [Review]
“Football, Family, God”
In Texas, you learn one thing quickly: football is everything. Social life revolves around the game, with births, deaths, anniversaries, and even daily schedules planned around its calendar. Beyond religion, football is the most significant social event in most Texans' lives. You see it in children—barely larger than the football itself—suited up and sent onto the field in the sweltering heat, told to run and hit each other as hard as they can. For many, a singular purpose is instilled from birth: to become a professional football player by any means necessary.
Justin Tipping’s new film, HIM, stars Tyriq Withers as Cameron “Cam” Cade, a young football prodigy chosen to train with his idol, San Antonio Saviors quarterback Isaiah White (played by Marlon Wayans). Once inside Isaiah’s desert compound, Cam begins to have disturbing visions, falls victim to Isaiah’s erratic behavior, and cracks under the immense pressure of being groomed as the next great football star.
Produced by Jordan Peele’s Monkeypaw Productions, the film was initially a spec script by Zack Akers and Skip Bronkie. Justin Tipping, who’s work is primarily in television, was hired to be the director. While I admire Peele’s tendency to hire directors known for work outside of horror, the results have been mixed—for instance, Nia DaCosta’s Candyman, which currently holds a 5.9/10 on IMDb and an 84% on Rotten Tomatoes.
HIM is a remarkable feat in many ways. The production is beautiful, with stunning cinematography. The design of Isaiah’s compound, with its temple-like appearance, reinforces the film's theme of football’s cult-like worship. Tyriq Withers delivers a dynamic performance as an overwhelmed Cam, who struggles with a debilitating brain injury while chasing his dream. Marlon Wayans, known primarily for comedy, proves—like Robin Williams or Jim Carrey—that he can master dramatic roles. His portrayal of Isaiah is terrifying, pathetic, and manic, often within the same scene; he effortlessly reveals a lonely god among mortals before snapping the mask back into place. I would love to see Wayans in more dramatic roles, perhaps ones that require less yelling.
Unfortunately, the film falls apart in the third act. It successfully establishes potent themes: football’s cult-like status in America, the violence inflicted on young male bodies, the slave auction like treatment of Black men, and the grooming of boys for financial gain. Yet, these ideas fail to cohere into a satisfying payoff. The emotional resonance never arrives. Instead, the film concludes with violence as a commentary on violence—a approach that doesn’t quite work. Despite having all the right pieces, motivations, and talent, HIM fails to stick the landing, ending with the tone of a cheesy slasher film rather than the sharp commentary on America’s brutal pastime that it aspires to be.
I hope other filmmakers are inspired by HIM’s ambition. I would love to see a director with firsthand experience in football, like Ryan Coogler, take on this material. We desperately need a critical examination of the American sports machine. According to data, NCAA athletes are at the highest risk for suicide among male college athletes—a pressure that has been quietly reported for years while college football remains one of the country's most lucrative games. For every Black Swan, Starry Eyes, Neon Demon, and Pearl, we need a film about a man who will risk his body and soul to become the greatest athlete. Our culture needs it.
