Film Review

I like George Clooney. The rugged good looks. The gravelly voice. And during interviews, he’s open and honest and often amazingly self-deprecating. Just ask him about “Batman & Robin” some time; you’ll get an earful about how he helped destroy the franchise.

 It’s that sense of humor and his comic acting ability that earns this guy a whole lot of extra credit. Check out his timing in the “Ocean” movies, his way with facial expressions in “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” or his physical presence in his “Welcome to Collinwood” cameos. Then remember, for heaven’s sake, that he was the voice of Sparky the Dog in “South Park!”

 Clooney has shown promise, if not panache, in his directing efforts: the muddled “Confessions of a Dangerous Mind” and the too-earnest “Good Night, and Good Luck.”

 But still, the prospect of “Leatherheads” was enticing — a loony Clooney in front of the camera, and the same guy with a point to prove behind the camera in a screwball romantic comedy about the early days of pro football.

 And the first 15 minutes of “Leatherheads,” set in 1925, is a goofy delight, with Clooney, as Dodge Connolly, an aging player on a struggling team, frolicking amidst much slapstick, and getting multiple laughs just by moving his eyebrows. There’s also the college football hero Carter Rutherford (John Krasinski), who became a legend in WWI after single-handedly defeating a squadron of Germans — and is now brought into the pro football ranks — and the hotshot newspaper writer Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger), who’s been assigned to find out if Carter’s story about his wartime exploits is a sham.

 There’s a lot going on here, and that’s without bringing the shifty team owner (Jonathan Pryce), the drunk sports reporter (Stephen Root), or the teamful of misfits (too many to mention) into the equation. Unfortunately, there’s just too much of it, and the free-flowing lunacy of the opening reel soon gets clogged up by all of the plotting. The film not only runs out of steam, but except for a few bursts of great sight gags and some well-delivered banter, it stops being funny.

 Most of the blame goes to first-time feature writers Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly, who have tried to mix the serious (the war angle) with the amusing (the hapless footballers) and the romantic (both Dodge and Carter fall for Lexie). But it’s obvious that the writers are in over their heads about a half-hour in, and despite having a good ending, don’t really know how to get to it.

 Clooney is growing as a director, and he certainly has a way with comedy — single scenes are hilarious. But he hasn’t yet figured out how to handle pacing, and screwball comedy pacing is the most demanding of all. Saddled with a weak script, Clooney has nowhere to go but down.

 Clooney is quite good as the long-in-the-tooth, slightly desperate athlete, and Krasinski is great at using his rubbery face and awkward body to get a laugh. But the film hits a big pothole with Zellweger, who should have played the part either nastier or slyer. Instead she’s flat.

 Too bad, because “Leatherheads” got off to a good start. The audience that I saw it with roared with laughter at the start, but by the end, they had grown suspiciously quiet.

 Rated PG-13. “Leatherheads” has brief strong language.