I saw Leatherheads, the George Clooney romantic comedy. I’d heard quite poor reviews o it is possible that my lowered expectations were partially responsible for the fact that I quite enjoyed it. For those who haven’t seen it or read many of the reviews, it follows the fortunes of “Dodge Connolly (Clooney) in 1925 as he tries to establish the pro Football league. Renee Zellweger plays his foil, a reporter trying to uncover the truth about the past of Connolly’s teammate, supposed War Hero and star draw. At times gets a bit bogged down. The third quarter especially drags a little, as if suddenly unsure of just what type of movie is being made (sports movie or romance?) And Lexie’s (Zellweger) dilemma of whether to reveal the truth about the War Hero is given insufficient emotional weight, the resolution of which quickly diminishes her involvement at all and drags on for too long.

It’s being promoted as a successor the 1940s fast talking, screwball comedies of Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. However, the sepia ‘look’ of the film (everyone except Renee seems to wear nothing but browns) and the jazzy Randy Newman score is more evocative of the loving nostalgia showcased in The Sting.  The theme and plot reminded me of it too – that notion of using craftiness, bluff and guts to get ahead in a tough world where the odds are stacked against you. A sense of strength and determination achieved out of desperation.  Odd that this angle is stressed in a film notionally set in the Jazz Age, an era usually depicted on screen as nothing but fun, laughter and wall-to-wall flappers. 

Though we have the obligatory speak-easy (complete with police raid), the movie shows us that without their football, many of the participants would be in desperate situations. In some instances it’s financially (in an early scene Dodge seems as surprised and uneasy as the unemployment officer that he has acquired no other marketable skills). In other cases it’ spiritual (we see team members returning glumly to jobs down mines and in darkly lit factories). In one poignant case the team represents a route out of loneliness. The stolid High School player forlornly returns to his home and gets off at a deserted train platform – there is apparently no-one who cares enough to see him return home. It’s an interesting angle and I’d have liked to see it explored further, how the team probably functioned in some instances as a substitute family and in others a much needed source of excitement.