You can rely on standard-issue Hollywood biopics to sand down the more complex edges of their central figures in favor of presenting clear, streamlined narrative and character arcs. Sports biopics tend to go one step further, rendering their protagonists as implacable forces of self-determination who allow nothing to get in the way of their ultimate triumph.
Some sports biopics avoid becoming simplistic odes to the value of hard work by either exploring the psychological turmoil that can fuel such tenacity, as in Raging Bull, or the physical and emotional costs of ceaselessly pushing oneself to succeed, as in The Iron Claw. But most are like The Young Woman and the Sea, trivializing the adversity that their subject faced by surrounding them with one-note foes that are easily defeated (and easier to root against) and barriers that are shattered as easily as swinging a sledgehammer at a thin glass ceiling.
Telling...
Some sports biopics avoid becoming simplistic odes to the value of hard work by either exploring the psychological turmoil that can fuel such tenacity, as in Raging Bull, or the physical and emotional costs of ceaselessly pushing oneself to succeed, as in The Iron Claw. But most are like The Young Woman and the Sea, trivializing the adversity that their subject faced by surrounding them with one-note foes that are easily defeated (and easier to root against) and barriers that are shattered as easily as swinging a sledgehammer at a thin glass ceiling.
Telling...
- 5/30/2024
- by Derek Smith
- Slant Magazine
A fine voice cast including Jason Isaacs, Nick Frost and Catherine Tate are the only saving grace for this cobbled-together Frankenstein of a film
Here’s a silly hyperactive monster animation that feels like it could’ve been scripted by a giddy six-year-old after lashings of jelly and ice-cream. (In this world Dracula straps on jet-packs and superhero latex to fly through the air. What’s wrong with bat wings?) The whole thing is exhausting, with too much slapstick, too few decent laughs and a care-y share-y message of family togetherness. It lacks even the tinge of darkness you’d expect from a movie about the stuff of bad dreams. The only treat is the voice cast of excellent British actors.
Frazzled Emma Wishbone (Emily Watson) is the owner of a failing New York bookshop and mum of two kids who can’t stand the sight of each other: stroppy...
Here’s a silly hyperactive monster animation that feels like it could’ve been scripted by a giddy six-year-old after lashings of jelly and ice-cream. (In this world Dracula straps on jet-packs and superhero latex to fly through the air. What’s wrong with bat wings?) The whole thing is exhausting, with too much slapstick, too few decent laughs and a care-y share-y message of family togetherness. It lacks even the tinge of darkness you’d expect from a movie about the stuff of bad dreams. The only treat is the voice cast of excellent British actors.
Frazzled Emma Wishbone (Emily Watson) is the owner of a failing New York bookshop and mum of two kids who can’t stand the sight of each other: stroppy...
- 3/1/2018
- by Cath Clarke
- The Guardian - Film News
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