HIM: Horror movie drops the ball - The Mail & Guardian

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I had been looking forward to HIM for months. The first trailer intrigued me because I had never seen a horror film set in the world of American football. When I later found out Jordan Peele was involved, I was sold.

But here's my first complaint -- the marketing was deceptive. The campaign leaned heavily into Peele's name, going so far as to create posters stacking his directorial hits (Get Out, Us, Nope) in neat vertical order before tacking on HIM at the bottom, as though it were his latest release. The problem? Peele didn't direct this film, he produced it.

That kind of positioning is a disservice to the actual director, Justin Tipping, who has to contend with audiences walking in expecting a Peele movie and walking out feeling duped before they have even given him a chance.

Fortunately, I knew about this before stepping into the cinema.

Unfortunately, what I discovered was a film that fumbled its promising concept with an incoherent, confusing story.

HIM follows Cameron "Cam" Cade, a promising young quarterback whose career is thrown into jeopardy after a brutal attack by a crazed fan. Just as it seems his dreams are over, Cam is thrown a lifeline -- an invitation to train at the private compound of his childhood hero, star quarterback and eight-time champion Isaiah White.

What begins as a golden opportunity quickly twists into a nightmare as Cam realises Isaiah's intentions are far darker than they first appeared.

Cam is played by Tyriq Withers, who turns in a respectable performance, but the standout is Marlon Wayans as Isaiah White.

Those who know Wayans mainly for his comedic work might be surprised by how effectively he inhabits this menacing role. But anyone who remembers his work in Requiem for a Dream knows he's had the dramatic chops all along. Wayans commits fully, and it's his presence that keeps the film watchable, even when the script starts to unravel.

Visually, HIM has its moments. The cinematography is sleek, and some stylistic choices, like the X-ray shots of players' skeletons rattling during bone-crunching hits, are striking in their creativity. They suggest the film had the potential to be something memorable.

Sadly, it doesn't stick the landing. Instead of delivering a tightly wound horror story, HIM veers into psychological thriller territory, piling on lofty ideas it can't carry through. More than once, I found myself asking, "What am I even watching this?"

At its core, the film seems to want to critique the exploitative nature of the National Football League; the brutal sacrifices demanded of players, the physical toll that leaves many broken long after the glory fades. That's fertile ground for a horror film, but HIM tackles it in such a clumsy, heavy-handed way that by the credits I was more frustrated than entertained.

I'll allow for the possibility there's some deeper symbolism I missed on a first viewing, but honestly, I have no intention of finding out.

HIM had the right ingredients -- a fresh premise, a capable cast, and flashes of visual ingenuity -- but it never figures out how to turn those elements into a coherent whole. In the end, it's less a touchdown and more a turnover.

HIM opens in South African cinemas on 3 October.