In 2017, Daniel Kaluuya’s horrified gaze in Jordan Peele’s “Get Out” captured audiences and critics and spurred what some call the Golden Age of Black Horror. “Us,” “Nope,” “Candyman” and, most recently, “Sinners” have all used horror to comment on the subjugation of Black people in America. While other films, such as “Antebellum,” are exploitative of images of Black torment, “Him,” directed by Justin Tipping, commits an uncommon crime. Not only does it not say much — it’s abysmally executed.

“Him” follows young football prodigy Cam Cade, played by Tyriq Withers. Cam shares the lead with his idol and soon-to-retire GOAT of football Isaiah White, played by Marlon Wayans. After a freak assault right before the professional football combine, Cam suffers a concussion and must skip the event. However, the opportunity of a lifetime appears when Isaiah invites him for a week-long bootcamp with the expectation that, if Cam performs well, he will take over the starting quarterback spot on Isaiah’s team — the San Antonio Saviors. The camp takes place in a barren desert, at Isaiah’s militaristic home, complete with receiving drills and football passing machines. Things quickly devolve for Cam as his concussion grows worse, and the workouts and recovery turn from odd to violently outlandish.  

This is Justin Tipping’s first feature film in nearly 10 years, following a string of TV directorial acclaim throughout the late 2010s. Despite working on other Black-led TV shows like “The Chi” and “Dear White People,” Tipping, along with his co-writers Skip Bronkie and Zachary Akers, is not Black. Policing what stories are written by whom is futile — however, it does further sour the film’s marketing. The official trailer for this film does not feature the director’s name until the very end, but “From Producer Jordan Peele” appears in bright red typeface halfway through. While obviously trying to capitalize on Peele’s reputation, it also serves to trick at least some audiences into thinking the film was from a Black director.

Wayans, whose career has been dominated by comedy films, delivered a magnificent performance. Isaiah is entirely unhinged and unsettles the audience in every scene. His facial expressions convey every deranged thought running through his head. Every word he screams in Cam’s face cuts deep and frightens the audience. Withers, a former Florida State University football player, holds his own. As a relative newcomer to acting, he efficiently balances the masculinity he must exude as a football player and the sensitivity of an injured young man under physical and psychological torment. 

Although underutilized, Julia Fox, who plays Elsie White, is perfect in her role. The vapid, yet evil, influencer seems like a character written explicitly for her. Fox described Elsie as her ideal role, and her love for the character shines through in her performance.

The visuals carry this film. Tipping’s direction and Kira Kelly’s cinematography truly excel. Isaiah’s compound feels cold and desolate — immediately alerting the audience that something is amiss. Jumpscares, like the concussion-addled visions that plague Cam, as well as the bloody X-ray vision and body horror sequences, work to create the unnerving atmosphere of cutthroat professional sports, toxic masculinity and physical agony.

While the visuals are appealing, the story leaves the audience hungry for a whole lot more. Every shot is beautiful, but some overexplain the clear themes of the film. The religious fanaticism that America masks as football fandom is explored through Isaiah. His football team, named the “Saviors,” his devoted followers and his return from a career-ending injury all position him as a Christ-like figure. Additionally, supporting characters call Cam the “prodigal son” and spew quotes from the Bible at him. In case audiences still do not understand that Cam represents Jesus, the film pastes his face into a painting of the Last Supper. 

While the religious imagery is more fleshed out, although far too heavy-handed to be enjoyable for me, the racial commentary falls flat. While some may say that the film only sets out to explore religious themes, there is too much slave imagery and too many comments about Withers being light-skinned to negate the themes of race entirely. The issues that afflict Black men in sports are heavily present and complex, but the film explores most of these issues lazily or not at all. At a measly 96 minutes, the film did not have enough time to explore all of its themes, so the ending rushes to a conclusion that feels incomplete. The film gestures towards themes and ideas that could have cemented this film as a new classic in Black horror, but it fumbles any merit it had at the 40-yard line. 

“Him” is the newest in a line of horror films that prioritize style over substance. However, it has especially disappointed audiences because it failed to meet the potential of its novel concept and stellar cast. Furthermore, during an era where Black horror films are better than ever, the movie fails to tackle any racial issues competently. While some audiences hypothesize that studio intervention destroyed the final product, “Him” makes me wish for a world where someone else intercepted this story and brought it all the way to a touchdown.