Air soars
Unlike its subject matter, there’s nothing particularly flashy about Ben Affleck’s Air. This less-is-more approach is vital to its success. He knows well enough to stay out of his own way, focusing on getting solid performances from his cast and telling his tales with a steady pace that sweeps the viewer along. While being sold as a previously untold tale of the Michael Jordan myth, it’s really about economics, both professional and personal, the boardroom and behind-the-scenes machinations as much about the bottom line as they are about personal pride.
Bombarding us with statistics at the start, Affleck and screenwriter Alex Convery make it abundantly clear that in 1984, Nike was lagging far behind its competition, Adidas and Puma, holding only a 17% market share in the basketball shoe market. Sonny Vaccaro (Matt Damon) has been brought in to revitalize this division but has little to work with. His coworkers, with the exception of Howard White (Chris Tucker) and Rob Strasser (Jason Bateman), lack motivation and his budget for recruitment – $250,000 – is a drop in the bucket compared to the company’s billions in assets. However, Vaccaro has a vision, and it all revolves around one player – Michael Jordan. Sensing a competitive edge his peers lack, he sets out to sign the North Carolina graduate, despite being told it’s impossible. Vaccaro takes a more personal approach and shows up on the Jordans’ doorstep in order to speak to his mother, Delores (Viola Davis). And while he makes an impression on her, it’s far from a slam dunk that the phenom will sign with Nike.
Though we know the outcome, getting a fly-on-the-wall perspective as to how this cultural phenomenon came to be is irresistible. Yet, the story is grounded, each character having an emotional investment in not simply making Jordan a superstar and his footwear a must-have item but in doing great things with the profits and the platform it will provide. Again, the outcome may be a given, but that doesn’t prevent Air from being an arresting story of corporate commerce and personal pride. In theaters.
Paint doesn’t quite set
I’m sure that all involved in Brit McAdams’ Paint thought they were making a very humorous movie. And yes, there are some laughs here and there, but there’s something missing. While you can see the intent of many of the jokes and know they should be funny, far too many of them land with a thud, awkward pauses the result, rather than belly laughs or even a guffaw or two. It isn’t the execution that’s lacking but McAdams’ tepid pacing and the timing of the jokes that’s at fault. Everything is just a beat or two off, and in comedy, that’s everything.
Carl Nargle (Owen Wilson) may not have the world on a string, but has Burlington, Vermont, in the palm of his hand. Hosting “Paint,” one of the most successful programs in the world of public television, he’s revered throughout the community. His viewers come from every demographic, whether they be patrons in a downtown bar or those at the local assisted living facility, they all tune in to see Nargle create yet another landscape and take them to “a special place.” It’s the sense of Zen he provides that appeals to them. However, all of this comes to an abrupt halt when Katherine (Makela Watkins), the programming manager and one of Nargle’s exes, puts another edition of “Paint” on the air with another host, Ambrosia (Ciara Renee). Nargle soon finds himself cancelled and irrelevant, at sea and ignored.
The premise is a sound one and Wilson is perfectly cast as the ex-hippie artist, firmly at home living in his van, spending the currency that is his charm as if there is no tomorrow. The actor is equally effective when it all falls apart, his frustration not only palpable and comical but poignant as well. At the core of the film is Nargle’s fear that he’ll be exposed as a fraud and when he’s forced to come to terms with this, it has neither a comedic nor dramatic impact. In the end, Paint and McAdams left me with a “meh” feeling, and instead of taking me to a special place, it had me wondering when the film would find the spark it desperately needs. Available through Video-On-Demand.
Tetris is a Cold War game of brinkmanship
I learned a great deal watching Jon S. Baird’s Tetris. I had no idea the game had been invented in Russia or the lengths tech entrepreneur Henk Rogers (Taron Egerton) went to in order to secure the licensing rights. Far from just hammering out a deal in a corporate conference room, his efforts not only had him flying around the globe but actually putting his life on the line to do so. To be sure, this may seem extreme, but securing this deal became Rogers’ white whale, one that needed to be tracked down not simply to save his livelihood but his pride as well.
Playing out like a Cold War thriller, Baird puts the viewer in Rogers’s shoes and immerses us in a bureaucratic nightmare, the depths of which our hero has no conception of. Attempting to navigate the numerous obstacles in his way, he blunders along, assuming that his act of good faith – actually coming to negotiate face-to-face with the game’s inventor – will cast him in a positive light. Unfortunately, his good intentions get him nowhere, and not only does he end up putting his own life in danger, but that of his family as well.
There are a great many moving parts to the story, and it’s to screenwriter Noah Pink and Baird’s credit that the plot does not end up resembling the labyrinthine situation Rogers finds himself in. Rather, the complexity of the plot proves invigorating as the unexpected turns it takes throughout are both surprising and devastating. Our emotional engagement is due in large part to Egerton’s exceptional work. The earnestness he conveys in Rogers is the key to the film. The actor captures an everyman quality in him that has us in his corner, hoping he’ll topple his deep-pocketed competition as well as escape the clutches of the oppressive Russians. This emotional hook as well as the ever-mounting tension, brisk pacing and stranger-than-fiction story, make Tetris as engaging as its namesake. Streaming on Apple TV+.
This article appears in The future of farming.
