Tag Archives: Tyriq Withers

A Good Enough Cry

Reminders of Him

by Hope Madden

A couple of years back, director Vanessa Caswill leaned affectionately into cliché, cast well, and elevated Love at First Sight above its tired romcom streamer roots. Can she do the same with the Nicholas Sparks style tearjerker Reminders of Him?

She can. But here’s the more important part. Caswill isn’t trying to exit the sobby romance genre. She is trying to make a movie that will please the same people who loved A Walk to Remember, The Longest Ride, and of course, novelist Colleen Hoover’s last feature adaptation, It Ends with Us. She’s just also trying not to make utter crap.

Caswill succeeds to a degree on both counts, again by casting well and embracing cliché.

The effortlessly woebegone Maika Monroe is Kenna, who’s just returned to her small hometown after a 6-year stint in prison for involuntary manslaughter. All Kenna wants to do is rebuild her life and meet the daughter she gave birth to in prison.  Too bad that daughter lives with the parents of the Kenna’s boyfriend, who died in that crash that sent her to prison.

So, the stage is set for a work-ethic driven story of redemption. Which is, of course, just an excuse for the romance. Kenna falls for Ledger (Tyriq Withers), her late boyfriend Scotty’s childhood bestie who returned to the neighborhood five years ago to help raise Scotty’s daughter.

Monroe’s performances tend to be internal, so she wears Kenna’s misery more than performs it. There’s a naturalness to it that helps the often unrealistic dialog and plot choices feel more believable.

Caswill also does not pretend that poverty—which is what Kenna lives in as a felon who’s lucky to get a job bagging groceries—looks at all glamorous. And though she may make poverty look a lot safer than it is, she surrounds Kenna with some fun ensemble players and a bit of needed joy.

Withers is primarily there to be inarguably handsome, but he and Monroe do share enough chemistry to make the romance somewhat compelling. And though Lauren Graham and Bradley Whitford suffer with woefully underwritten characters, both veterans have talent enough to enrich what the script lacked.

Does Reminders of Him do exactly what you expect it to do, scene after scene? It does. But it’s supposed to. It just does it a little better than it really had to.

Living Deliciously

Him

by Hope Madden

The goat is an apt image to anchor a sports film. The Greatest Of All Time. Every athlete’s dream. If you’ve ever watched horror, goats are also excellent avatars for evil. In the case of Him, co-writer/director Justin Tipping’s feature from Jordan Peele’s Monkey Paw Productions, it’s a bit of both.

Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans) lives deliciously. Is Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) ready for that? Cade is the up-and-comer, the college QB who may be the one man to dethrone legendary Saviors quarterback, White. The 8-time champion came back even after the bone-protruding leg injury Cam’s late father made him watch again and again as a child.

Why would a father make a child watch something like that? To learn what it means to be a man, naturally.

Him is dense with themes and imagery, beginning with the very real frights of traumatic brain injury and its effect on football players. But the larger horror is rooted in performative masculinity, of proving your physical superiority by overpowering an opponent, drawing first blood, drawing last blood, and calling it power when it’s simply entertainment for puny white men with money.

Tipping equates the mechanics of sizing up an athlete with preparation for an auction block in one of the film’s most quietly unnerving sequences. Later references to gladiators obediently entering the pit at the behest of their trainers serve as additional, hardly subtle, illustrations of the power dynamic afoot.

Withers’s overwhelmed acolyte feels more dopey than wide-eyed, but Wayans is slippery, diabolical fun as the primary antagonist. Naomie Grossman steals scenes as White’s biggest fan, and Tim Heidecker’s disingenuous smarm fits perfectly as Cade’s agent.

There’s an intriguing half to this film. It’s the half making points about the way those with a financial stake in the game proselytize brutal sacrifice in search of greatness. The delicious living half, though, feels like a cheat.

The supernatural elements in Him give way to a foggy mythology full of fever dream smash cuts and jump scares. At times—as on a shooting range—details are left delightfully, grotesquely vague. Elsewhere the ambiguity feels like narrative weakness.

Worse still, the supernatural side of the film, to a degree, lets capitalism and white supremacy off the hook, no matter how satisfying the final bloodletting may feel. The set design is evocative and cinematography impresses, but the film can’t quite live up to expectations.