Him

I knew better than to see this,

but agreed to accompany my father, who needed a reason to leave the house during my mother’s book club. He was curious to see it because he likes Jordan Peele, who produced it. After seeing Weapons and Downton Abbey, I was curious too: maybe movies were making a comeback.

Correct instincts aside, this movie was stupid enough to be enjoyable enough to write about, but not in a way that was offensive, and needed its name cursed from the rooftops to deter others from seeing and prevent its poison from spreading. Alas, the target demographic for this movie is 13-year-old boys, who are as confused about their identity as Him is as confused about its identity. Is Him a sports horror film, or a psychological thriller? A mystery, or a music video? Supernatural, or crime? It has the premise of an average horror movie but does not innovate with the subject matter.

Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) is a biracial QB drafted to replace the GOAT—and his idol—Isiah White (Marlon Wayans), rumored to be retiring at age 45 and 8 championship wins. The film begins with a flashback of 9-year-old Cam watching a championship game while wearing shoulder pads. Isiah White wins the championship, but suffers a gruesome injury, and Cam’s father whispers “That’s what a real man looks like.” Then, leads his impressionable son in a chant to instill a God complex: “I’m Him! I’m Him! I’m Him!”

‘Him’ refers to the God complex of the player who is seen as both leader and savior—hence the divine undertones of ‘I am.’ Quarterbacks, as the play callers and field generals, carry the team’s fate on their shoulders, and their success often defines the success of the entire squad. Fans can become obsessed as well, and Him becomes singular, because there can only be one savior. Cam, however, does not become the arrogant narcissist that his father wants him to be, which was a flaw of the writing, because the movie lacked tension otherwise.

Flash forward, there is much fanfare around his draft potential, some are even calling the next GOAT. But then, after some exposition and before the title credits roll, Cam is attacked while practicing alone on the field one night by a mysterious figure in a glittering mascot costume. He receives stitches on his head that resemble the stitching on a pigskin. But this incident doesn’t make him interesting, and this incident is never resolved, nor referenced. Cam doesn’t seem to care either. In fact, he reacts to the plot’s escalating weirdness without any curiosity at all; he shrugs his shoulders and continues through it all, like a non-player character knocked down gets back up to continue their programmed task.

The league questions Cameron’s draft potential following the injury, but the tension ends as soon as it begins. In the next scene, Cam gets a call from from his agent, Tom (Tim Heidecker) asking him if he wants to spend a week training with Isiah in his underground desert compound.

The film is divided into vaguely labelled chapters for each day where Cam is training with Isiah in the compound, like ‘Fun’, ‘Poise’, and ‘Leadership.’ Cam undergoes “holy blood” transfusions as part of his training while experiencing hallucinatory nightmares of attacks by mascots in glittering outfits. Isiah is suspiciously crazed and obsessed with his own GOAT status but Cam is such a blank nothing boring character that there is no conflict until the plot demands it. For anyone who has seen a movie, it comes as no surprise.

Crucifixes have some prominent screen time in slow motion juxtaposed with football narcissism. Symbolism so blatant that even a 13-year-old will notice it.

In the end, Him drifts along without direction, a collage of muscles, breasts, blood, sports, and profanity. Its true legacy lies not in artistry but in nostalgia—remembered by impressionable teens at their first R-rated showing. At my local theater, they were ushered in by attendants also in need a legal guardian to see it.

Back then I needed a bad movie to get into the theater without my parents. Now my dad needed one to get out of the house with me.