It can be interesting to try to figure out why exactly
certain Oscar-bait catches on and why other examples fail to grab the Academy’s
attention. Or, rather, “interesting” may
be a poor choice of word, since what usually holds a film back from being especially
noteworthy in the Academy’s eyes is an entire lack of noteworthiness in its
execution. Many filmmakers and film
studios make films with the express purpose of appealing to award season
sensibilities, and Concussion is
quite clearly one of those films with a recent history true-story scandal
premise and an aging actor trying to reclaim his reputation by taking on a
dramatic role outside his usual comfort zone.
And Concussion probably could
have been a serious contender if it had attempted to say anything more than
what is plainly obvious from a quick plot synopsis.
Dr. Bennet Omalu (Will Smith) is a Nigerian forensic
pathologist working in Pittsburgh who is charged with the task of examining
Mike Webster, a former NFL player who had been exhibiting erratic behavior
reminiscent of dementia for a long time prior to his death. Upon performing an autopsy against the wishes
of a Pittsburgh populace more concerned with honoring Webster’s career than the
mystery of his premature demise, Omalu discovers extensive brain damage that he
believes to be the result of repeated traumatic head injuries from Webster’s
time in the NFL. After Omalu publishes
his findings, the NFL brings the full force of their establishment down against
him, and he must decide whether the threat to his career and his life in
America is worth fighting to bring his research to the world.
The film is structured as a tale of an immigrant struggling
against an American institution that he has little care for as an outsider, and
functionally it does its job. Smith is
surprisingly effective in a softer-spoken role than I would have thought him
capable of, channeling his usual larger-than-life bravado into a character that
feels weak in comparison to Smith’s action-hero archetypes but still determinedly
brave compared to us mere mortals. Alec
Baldwin and Albert Brooks offer great supporting turns as professional
colleagues of Dr. Omalu, with Baldwin's character in particular coming across as
sympathetic, despite his role in the narrative as the white guy Omalu needs to
have around in order to be taken seriously.
But good acting is stifled by a script that, while not
necessarily bad, could have used a few more drafts to become more than merely
functional. Dialogue is effective at
conveying plot points and moments of personal struggle for Omalu, but none of
it is memorable except for an obnoxiously repeated mantra of “Tell the
truth.” I think part of the reason why
the actors come across so well is because they have to compensate for what
little material the screenplay gives them.
It also doesn’t help that, while Concussion
does go after the NFL for purposely covering up the effects of the sport on its
players’ heath, it tries to mitigate that unpopular sentiment by calling the
sport “beautiful” in non-specific ways, as if that is supposed to make it okay
that this life-ruining industry continues with a minimum of consequences for
those who make the most money from it.
Concussion could
have been a cutting exposé of a beloved American pastime if it had had the guts
or the talent to get it right. However,
the writing is not ambitious, nor does it take the risk of putting its weight
against the NFL in a way that will cause people to sit up and take notice. The actors do their best to salvage a good
film from the mediocrity, and they mostly succeed, but it ultimately isn’t
enough to call the film much more than a decent attempt.
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