HBO was playing "Leatherheads" a lot recently, and Mrs. Shark and I decided to check it out. The movie exceeded my expectations, but I think I exceeded my wife's patience.
As the movie started, I announced like a true showman--if you cant be a true showman in your own basement, where can you be one--"Ladies and gentleman, now for tonight's feature, 'Leatherheads,' starring George Clooney, the guy from the fake 'Office," and Squinty!"
For some reason, Mrs. Shark took umbrage at my calling Renee Zellweger "Squinty." Hey, I mean nothing by it. Well, except for the obvious part about her looking like she always squints. I did mean that. I never knew my wife was a big fan of Renee. Part of me is gratified that she still has a fanbase, as her career has been a little quiet lately, and I think she has a lot to offer. of course, there's always the very real possibility that Mrs. Shark was just annoyed that I was being a jackass.
There's the even realer possibility she was getting in a pre-emptive "Rick!" to prevent me from being a jackass during the whole film.
If so, it didn't take at first, because since "Leatherheads" is a period piece set in the world of 1920s professional football, when the movie started, we were treated to old-timey 1920s music on the soundtrack, and you know what THAT means. That's right, I'm dancing the Charleston! It's hard enough to avoid busting out those moves when you're in a movie theater, but darned near impossible to resist in the privacy of your own home.
Of course, I wasn't alone in my own home, either, and I could tell by the look on my wife's face that she kind of wished I was--like with her in a different zip code. Ever tolerant of me, though, instead of telling me directly what an idiot I looked like, she asked me, "Why are you doing the female version of it?"
You know, I've never been 100% sure there WERE "male" and "female" versions of the Charleston, but as Coolidge is my witness, if that's the reality, I was surely doing the feminine moves. But who can blame me? It's much more fun to wave your arms theatrically and do those loosey-goosey steps, whether you look like a flapper or not, than to do some kind of stiff, self-conscious "masculine" Charleston.
Maybe I shouldn't have been doing the Charleston in front of the TV, period, you might say, and you would have a fair point, one Mrs. Shark would likely appreciate.
The hijinks in "Leatherheads" are at times as silly as my own movie "enhancements," but overall, the film works. As a football fan, it's surprising to find the football scenes less interesting than the romantic comedy ones. While George Clooney and the gang don't always reach the heights of the classic screwball films they're trying to emulate, they come close enough often enough to create an enjoyable experience.
Clooney and Squin--er, Zelwegger make a solid pairing, able to spit out rapid dialogue without drowning in it. John Krasinksi is less effective as a coveted collegiate football star, and in fact the film doesn't even try to make an equilateral triangle here. Really, the tension is whether George and Renee can get together without killing each other, not whether she'll run off with a callow young punk. Her sassy reporter makes a nice match for his seasoned, roguish football vet, and while the movie maybe tries a little too hard sometimes to capture that retro feel, my thinking is, at least it's trying. Case in point: Clooney's character is named Dodge Connelly, and if that annoys you, better find another movie.
The old-timey football scenes provide some broad physical comedy, but the real period feel is evident more in the relationships. Maybe "Leatherheads" is more trying to recreate how Hollywood presented life back then than how life really was, but again, I have no problem with that. How could I? I mean, my Charleston is totally based on what I've seen from Hollywood.
Of course, I wasn't alone in my own home, either, and I could tell by the look on my wife's face that she kind of wished I was--like with her in a different zip code. Ever tolerant of me, though, instead of telling me directly what an idiot I looked like, she asked me, "Why are you doing the female version of it?"
You know, I've never been 100% sure there WERE "male" and "female" versions of the Charleston, but as Coolidge is my witness, if that's the reality, I was surely doing the feminine moves. But who can blame me? It's much more fun to wave your arms theatrically and do those loosey-goosey steps, whether you look like a flapper or not, than to do some kind of stiff, self-conscious "masculine" Charleston.
Maybe I shouldn't have been doing the Charleston in front of the TV, period, you might say, and you would have a fair point, one Mrs. Shark would likely appreciate.
The hijinks in "Leatherheads" are at times as silly as my own movie "enhancements," but overall, the film works. As a football fan, it's surprising to find the football scenes less interesting than the romantic comedy ones. While George Clooney and the gang don't always reach the heights of the classic screwball films they're trying to emulate, they come close enough often enough to create an enjoyable experience.
Clooney and Squin--er, Zelwegger make a solid pairing, able to spit out rapid dialogue without drowning in it. John Krasinksi is less effective as a coveted collegiate football star, and in fact the film doesn't even try to make an equilateral triangle here. Really, the tension is whether George and Renee can get together without killing each other, not whether she'll run off with a callow young punk. Her sassy reporter makes a nice match for his seasoned, roguish football vet, and while the movie maybe tries a little too hard sometimes to capture that retro feel, my thinking is, at least it's trying. Case in point: Clooney's character is named Dodge Connelly, and if that annoys you, better find another movie.
The old-timey football scenes provide some broad physical comedy, but the real period feel is evident more in the relationships. Maybe "Leatherheads" is more trying to recreate how Hollywood presented life back then than how life really was, but again, I have no problem with that. How could I? I mean, my Charleston is totally based on what I've seen from Hollywood.
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