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Go behind the scenes of Him with director Justin Tipping and the cast
Featurette: Universal Pictures

Him
Directed by Justin Tipping
Rated R
Saved 9 September 2025
#HimMovie

Him wants to field a powerful sermon, but it doesn’t stick to its own convictions.

The Longest Yard

In some respects, Him is to football what Sinners is to the blues. Or, certainly, that would seem to be Him’s primary aspiration. Much like the polar opposite romantic drama A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, also opening in theatres on the same day, Him is a purely figurative experience in its own deep, dark ways. None of it’s to be taken literally.

The religious symbolism is everywhere from virtually the opening frames. Him is capitalized. Naturally. It’s the title. And the titular "Him" in this case is Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers), an aspiring football player with chatter of being the GOAT (Greatest Of All Time) before he even makes his first play at the professional level. And his favorite team? It dates back to his childhood. It’s the Saviors.

There are quotes from Jesus. There’s the weigh-in and measurements, during which Cameron strikes a crucified pose.

Then it gets poured on a little thick with a Last Supper scene, complete with Cameron’s head being illuminated by a light fixture serving as a halo. There’s also a coach’s head on a platter, akin to John the Baptist.

The Hail Mary pass.

References to the Prodigal Son.

There’s even a pentagram as a symbol of players selling their souls to the devil for fortune and glory.

The action takes place over the course of one (Biblical) week, but it all becomes a little too much when the gang parties at a nightclub that looks like a converted gym with a conspicuously broken neon sign that reads CREATION (with the preceding "RE" dimmed) .

Nonetheless, big kudos for the symbolism of a prestigious, pointy-tipped award being used as a weapon.

So much symbolism. But the movie’s end game is called into question.

Angel Heart

Him is produced by Jordan Peele, who knows his way around subtext and how to effectively pile on themes and complex ideas in movies like Get Out and Nope. But Him is directed by Justin Tipping, marking his sophomore feature, following Kicks in 2016. He has more TV work to his credit, though, including episodes of series including Dear White People and Run the World. Tipping gets co-writing credit on the screenplay, along with freshmen feature scribes Zack Akers and Skip Bronkie. Those two are podcasters.

Great.

Maybe that’s part of the problem. Their relatively limited experience isn’t enough to sustain the story through the movie’s 96 minutes. Plenty more could’ve been done to fully flesh out some threads, particularly when it comes to the demonization of the Saviors team owner and Cameron’s agent.

The ideas are there. The concept’s strong. The visuals are stunning. The soundtrack is atmospheric. The music fits in rather than sticking out like a music video spliced into a movie (thanks but no thanks, Rocky IV).

At times, there’s even a propulsive vibe to the action.

But all these good things don’t gel and ultimately the movie fumbles the ending.

Psycho

For many people, on any given Sunday football is religion. The whole weird, wacky world of football. The intensity of the field action is experienced in living rooms around the US and increasingly around the world. A victory leads to cheers of "We won!" and "We did it!" even though nobody in the house really had any impact on the outcome.

And there are the diehards whose fandom is undying, the folks who – regardless of their age – don face paint and sport silly costumes. Among them are those who don’t respond well when the Saviors’ 8-time champion quarterback, Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), enters the final year of his contract. Outshining Tom Brady with more championships after only 14 years in the game, will Isaiah hang up his cleats? Will Cameron ascend as his replacement?

Not if some particularly psychotic fans have their say and way in the matter.

This is where Him turns both interesting and perplexing. The theme of fandom gone awry takes a goofy, creepy turn. It can’t get any worse than one woman – looking kind of like Harley Quinn – attacking Cameron’s limo and yelling at him, "WE DON’T WANT YOU!!!!" (Note: the all-caps and multiple exclamation points are justified.)

Then she spits on his window.

Whack-a-doodle. And she has two Joker-esque cronies, one in diapers.

This is where a steadier hand at the helm would’ve made the horror pack more punch. In Him, it comes from so far out in left field and so abruptly, it seems like it has to be a nightmare sequence. But it’s not.

Early on, Cameron is attacked by a creepy fanatic in a costume just before his major combine debut. Cameron’s left with a concussion, but he powers through. The notion of football and brain injuries is a very real, serious concern and it could’ve been used to much greater effect in Him as an element to give the movie some legitimate gravitas.

For All the Money in the World

Of course, there are the financial considerations. The team owner. The obsessive, awkward agent. The team doctor (who asks a strong question that lands with limited impact: "Have you ever killed yourself for a job?").

And, naturally, Cameron is surrounded by so many ladies having gone through way too much plastic surgery.

Problem is, Cameron is a family man. Throwing shades of Fast & Furious, family is everything to him. He wants to win to honor his deceased father and, of course, to support his loving family.

But Isaiah, in his early beckoning as Cameron’s proposed mentor, brings on the reality: taking care of the family is an external motivation. The real winners dig deeper and find a motivation from the inside. "Don’t be me. Be better," he says. "Find your own greatness."

As a child, Cameron witnessed (via the miracle of television) Isaiah endure a gruesome injury at the end of a game. It would seem to be career ending, but no. It was merely the end of one chapter, before the resurrection of Isaiah’s career and his ascension to GOAT status. And therein lies Him’s biggest sin: the movie loses sight of the real horrors being played out on the gridiron – the grisly injuries, the concussions, the mental stakes – in favor of nonsensical incidents better suited for a Halloween horror-comedy.

It’s all visually well-done and effectively stylish. Those early scenes of Cameron’s childhood are presented in 1.85:1, then the action shifts to 2.35:1 as the movie moves to contemporary days, 14 years later.

As the symbolism goes over (way over) the top, Him starts to derail. And when the blood starts to run (and even geyser in a horror spoof style akin to Weapons), the desired impact is dulled.

So, what is the end game of Him?

Well, Him becomes both a little too self-righteous and sanctimonious for its own good, with an ending that seems to betray its own soul and Cameron’s creed.

• Originally published at MovieHabit.com.