With his nonchalant sophistication and relaxed charm, George Clooney often gets compared to the icons of Hollywood’s Golden Age, from Cary Grant to Clark Gable. But as “Leatherheads” demonstrates, the leading man really wants to be classic screwball comedy director George Cukor.
When Clooney’s football comedy opens this weekend, audiences nationwide will be treated to a snappy throwback that’s fueled by the filmmaker’s affection for a bygone era. Local patrons won’t immediately notice, however. Most will spend their initial viewing scouring crowd shots and backgrounds for glimpses of friends and family members who made it on to Clooney’s Carolina-based production set during filming last year.
Clooney’s third directorial effort is his lightest film so far, which only means he isn’t flogging the fear-mongering tactics of Sen. Joseph McCarthy (“Good Night and Good Luck”) or dissecting the deranged brain of a game show host who believes he’s a CIA operative (“Confessions of a Dangerous Mind”).
“Leatherheads” keeps the screwball beat. It’s aided immensely by Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly’s clever pitter-patter dialogue, production designer Jim Bissell’s exquisite period detail, and composer Randy Newman’s ragtime score – look for his cameo as a saloon’s piano player.
In 1925, pro football’s determined Duluth Bulldogs can’t draw flies. To stave off financial ruin, team captain Dodge Connelly (Clooney) convinces college star and popular wartime hero Carter Rutherford (affable John Krasinski) to join the Bulldogs. Losing isn’t their only problem. Rutherford’s courageous story – he reportedly convinced a battalion of German soldiers to set down their weapons – is being investigated by ace reporter Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger).
Clooney’s at his best when bouncing razor-sharp lines off a flexible co-star, be it Jennifer Lopez in “Out of Sight” or Catherine Zeta-Jones in the underrated “Intolerable Cruelty.” Even his chemistry with cohort Brad Pitt threatens to turn the “Ocean’s” franchise into a full-blown romantic serial. So it’s no surprise that “Leatherheads” kicks into gear only after Clooney is paired with proper sparring partner Zellweger about 15 minutes into the film.
“Leatherheads” fluctuates between appealing genres. At times it’s a tried-and-true romantic comedy. Then it swings over to slapstick territory, attempting a frivolous Keystone Kops routine that would make Abbott and Costello proud. Clooney commits to the football elements of his story but avoids the major sports clichés. Even the big game – once it finally arrives – remains deadlocked for its duration, which offers an intentionally scathing commentary on professional sports. Clooney seems to be saying that the introduction of rules handed down by the league’s dowdy commissioner (Peter Gerety) sapped the fun from the game.
That’s assuming “Leatherheads” has any deeper messages at all, which it doesn’t. This is a lark, an homage to movies Clooney has gone on record as saying he adores. And he’s so in tune with these storied comedies, it might hurt the film’s box-office receipts. Not that Clooney’s directorial efforts pack the bank; “Confessions” grossed $16 million and “Good Luck” nearly doubled that with $31 million. But “Leatherheads” hews so close to films produced during a forgotten age that audiences who no longer recall how quick-witted screwball comedies used to be might not fully appreciate it (or even care to).
