By Pat Vincent
For the Times West Virginian
April 09, 2008 09:10 pm
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To be honest, George Clooney’s oeuvre has always been hit or miss with me: liking him the best in “O Brother ...” and the least in the “Ocean’s ...” series. (Everyone close your eyes reeaal tight. CLOSE ’EM! Good. Now we’ll all pretend that he never-ever-ever donned the Dark Knight’s majestic cape ... Bad Clooney!! OK, open up. Ahhh, better, isn’t it?)
Clooney’s latest is a homage to screwball comedies set in the rip-roaring ’20s. It’s called “Leatherheads” and is about the conception of professional football. You see, in this period, pro football was a child ... and a naughty one at that. It was a child with no rules, no discipline and certainly no future. Although a kid like that might be fun to watch, you might also worry about what will become of him. Without guidance, the 1925 child of football was about to collapse.
Dodge Connolly (Clooney) is the owner/player of the Duluth Bulldogs. They play football like the Hanson brothers play hockey; dirty. With the inclusion of a football commissioner and actual rules, the Bulldogs may never transition into what the NFL is to become.
Plus, they’re broke.
To get more folks into the stadium and respectability to the league, Dodge recruits Carter Rutherford (“The Office’s” John Krasinski in a very likable turn). Carter is a college football star and a war hero to boot. Rounding out the movie’s love triangle is Lexie Littleton (she of the forever pursed face, Renee Zellweger). She’s a just-one-of-the-guys spitfire journalist apparently rampant in the ’20s. Lexie is chasing a lead on whether or not Carter’s impossibly awesome war story is, in fact, bunk! (That’s how you have to write “bunk”: bunk!)
The DL: When the movie isn’t trying so hard to have that snappy ’20s-era banter, it’s really quite pleasant. The sepia-rich gridiron scenes are as good and lighthearted as any captured on film. The “Keystone Cops”-esque action sequences could’ve been screwier. Clooney (who also directed) and Zellweger, both veterans in this type of romantic cat and mouse, do fine jobs but it’s Krasinski, the novice, who really shines in “Leatherheads.”
To the Parents: PG-13, but I doubt you’ll be arguing with any of your young’ins about it. Also, it’s just shy of two hours. What is it lately about films weighing in so hefty?
Rating: If movies were the prohibition, “Leatherheads” would be a speakeasy.
At Home: The Coen Brothers’ “The Hudsucker Proxy.” For the same snappy heroine and a hoola hoop.
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