You've got to hand it to George Clooney. Hollywood's favourite old-school leading man is so comfortable in his charming, easy-on-the-eyes skin that he figures he can sell viewers on, of all things, a 1920s-era screwball comedy about the beginnings of the American pro-football league. It's hardly a concept destined to pack cinemas (and the movie certainly didn't when it was released earlier this year), but its star player - who tackles directorial duties for the third time - is just so goofily enthusiastic about the whole thing that you can almost forgive the film's third-quarter fumbles. Leatherheads is neither a great sports movie nor a particularly funny romcom, but it scores points for its easygoing appeal, which is something you can't say for a lot of star-powered films.
Clooney plays Dodge, a veteran footballer whose team, the Duluth Bulldogs, is just another failing enterprise in a joke of a pro league that pales in comparison with its college counterpart. (Dodge and his guys play among cows and can only afford a solitary ball. The school teams strut their stuff on modern fields for thousands of adoring spectators.) In an attempt to turn the Bulldogs' fortunes around, Dodge recruits the dapper young college star/decorated war hero Carter Rutherford (John Krasinski of America's The Office - all teeth and good-natured charm) to play with his ragtag crew.
Meanwhile, the feisty newspaper reporter Lexie Littleton (Renée Zellweger, period film's go-to girl) has been dispatched by her editor to get the real story behind Rutherford's supposed wartime heroics. Uh-oh, could our all-American be not what he seems? Naturally, both Dodge and Carter fall for the sassy scribe (Zellweger does wear those cloche hats exceptionally well), and the rivalry begins. Although, Krasinski never really looks as though he stands a chance - which, of course, is just the way Clooney wants it.
Zellweger gets most of the good lines (there aren't that many to go around), but there's something strained in her delivery, and the actress often looks bewildered, as though she stumbled in off the set of Chicago and couldn't figure out what happened to Richard Gere. But there's no denying the fizzy chemistry between her and Clooney. The actor/director is clearly having the time of his life repurposing the genre, and he certainly has a feel for its look and timing. A scene between Dodge and Lexie in a sleeper car could have come straight out of It Happened One Night, and there's a chase set-up that has a touch of the Keystone Kops about it.
Unfortunately, these zippy moments are few and far between, and Leatherheads eventually becomes bogged down by politics. As the tarnish begins to show on the golden boy Rutherford and we spend more time in the company of the new pro league commissioner watching his attempts to sort out the game, the film drops the screwball. The minor characters - notably Carter's shady manager (Jonathan Pryce) and a reporter named Suds (the character actor Stephen Root) who doesn't so much report as transcribe Dodge's sound bites - are underdeveloped and add to the film's overall spottiness.
Still, Leatherheads is an enjoyable diversion that may well have just enough Clooney for the ladies and just enough gridiron for the gents. Clooney knows well enough to take his matinée-idol persona and run with it.
tlazos@thenational.ae