Who could have guessed that two fact-based films about gaming — Tetris and this one — would be released simultaneously?
Even less likely: Both are quite entertaining, in entirely different ways.
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| While Ellen (Crystal Reed) watches with delight, Roger (Mike Faist) gives her son, Seth (Christopher Convery), some handy pinball tips. |
However their film ultimately gets pigeon-holed, there’s no denying the gently whimsical touch that deftly balances established history, a charming romantic core, and droll meta touches that impishly poke fun at the making of this film, (supposedly) while it’s being made.
No less than New Yorker critic Richard Brody insists that “it’s better than all ten of the [2022] Best Picture nominees.”
I can’t go quite that far, but his enthusiasm is understandable.
The Brothers Bragg open their film as Roger C. Sharpe (Dennis Boutsikaris), circa today, is prepped in a studio chair, awaiting interview questions from unseen filmmakers. The topic: how he — Sharpe — literally “saved” pinball in New York City.
Sharpe demurs, insisting that he’s no more than a “footnote.” Yet he remains willing to tell the story, but only — sharp insistence, accompanied by Boutsikaris’ steely gaze — on his terms.
At which point we roll back to 1971, when a much younger Roger (now endearingly played by Mike Faist), while a student at the University of Wisconsin, has his first encounter with a true “pinball wizard.” Immediately intrigued by the possibility of prolonging a game for more than a quick couple of minutes, Roger becomes obsessed.
At which point the older Sharpe suddenly reappears, essentially looking over his younger self’s shoulder, in order to supply essential back-story. Boutsikaris continues to serve as on-camera narrator while the film continues: an initially disorienting device that quickly becomes an essential part of the story (thanks in no small part to Boutsikaris’ quiet sincerity).
Sharpe also occasionally interrupts on-screen events, insisting that the filmmakers are taking too much dramatic license in an effort to insert a “Hollywood touch.” Such objections noted, a given scene is re-staged to be more historically accurate.
(Wisely, the Brothers Bragg employ this gimmick sparingly.)
A few years pass. Roger graduates, moves to New York City, gets married, lands a job as an advertising copywriter, gets divorced — a lucky escape, given available evidence — loses his job, and loses most of his furnishings (such accoutrements having been supplied by his former wife’s family’s furniture store). Sleeping on a mattress on the floor, forced to improvise rough-and-ready plank bookshelves, Roger impulsively decides to become a journalist.
Faist’s endearingly scruffy performance is the epitome of nerd-dom: a look enhanced by his totally square clothing, oversized wire-rim glasses, and a mustache large enough to serve as a home for several species of wildlife. He plunges into a regimen of submissions and rejection letters during a montage that’ll be familiar to anybody in the writing field, all to no avail.
Then, one day — walking past an adult bookstore — Roger hears a familiar sound. Glancing guiltily in all directions, not wanting to be seen, he cautiously enters this grimy porn palace … and finds three pinball machines.
And plays. Without giving a second glance to the “hot stuff” behind the nearby curtain, much to the mild astonishment of the proprietor (a hilariously deadpan performance by Connor Ratliff).
With batteries recharged, Roger renews his attack, bringing fresh samples to the offices of Gentlemen’s Quarterlymagazine, then in the early stages of re-inventing itself into the monthly publishing titan it soon would become. During the elevator trip to the magazine’s upper-floor offices, Roger shares the ride with too-adorable-for-words Ellen (Crystal Reed), who works as a secretary elsewhere in the building.
His efforts at banter are beyond awkward (I’m dying, on his behalf) but she, more worldly wise, treats him gently … and, to his astonishment, shares her phone number.
Well, heck; of course he’ll land the job at GQ, after that.
His interview (“We’ll give ya one chance, kid!”) is conducted with droll snark by managing editor Jack Haber (Mike Doyle) and art director Harry Coulianos (Bryan Batt), the best of this film’s many excellent supporting characters. (The real-world Haber and Coulianos spearheaded their magazine’s dramatic shift in the 1970s and early ’80s.)
Toby Regbo has an equally important role as GQ staff photographer James Hamilton: initially blend-in-the-background unassuming, but soon to become Roger’s crucial journalistic partner.
Roger bravely secures a “pre-date date” with Ellen; they flirt with the sparkling rat-a-tat dialogue we remember from classic Howard Hawks screwball comedies. She’s similarly divorced and somewhat older — all of 32, shocking! — and comes avec 11-year-old son Seth (Christopher Convery), whom Roger will meet soon enough.
By this point, his trips to the adult bookstore have become a daily occurrence; he’s therefore shocked, not much later, to arrive just as police officers raid the place … not for its seamy porn content, but to destroy the pinball machines.
Yep: They’re illegal in New York City.
Cue a quick history lesson, courtesy of the elder Sharpe:
(Back during the Depression years, New York City Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, elected on his promise to rid the city of its mobsters, found that campaign pledge difficult to achieve. As the United States entered World War II, desperate for some sort of photo-op success, LaGuardia found what we’d today call a “soft target”: pinball machines.
(He banned them on Jan. 21, 1942, insisting that they were instruments of chance and gambling. During a subsequent month-long raid — conveniently staged for maximum newsreel footage impact — thousands of the machines were confiscated and destroyed.
(It may have been a publicity stunt, but it had a beneficial impact: The U.S. war effort received 10,000 pounds of scrap metal in the process. On the other hand, the machines’ legs were re-purposed as nasty billy clubs for NYC police officers.)
For Roger, in the 1970s, the failure to repeal this law is beyond comprehension … because he knows that pinball is a game of skill, not chance.
The film then charges along two parallel paths: the slowly developing relationship between Roger and Ellen, both gun-shy after the failure of their respective first marriages; and Roger’s increasingly obsessive determination to bring legitimacy back to pinball.
The romantic sparring is gentle, sweet and very cautious; Seth’s role proves important. Reed’s Ellen wisely puts her son’s comfort ahead of her own desires, and we soon recognize concern in her gaze — then genuine fear — because Roger is taking too long to step up to the plate. (Honestly, we groan, can he really have any doubts about this woman???)
On the journalistic end, Rogers immerses himself in pinball history: initially for a well-received GQ article, and then — more ambitiously — for a book on the subject, involving interviews with pinball development titans such as Harry Williams (Mitch Greenberg) and Sam Stern (Todd Lewis).
Alas, Roger can’t type; his initial drafts are in penciled longhand — same with his magazine articles — which he then painstakingly turns into typed copy via the slowest two-finger approach ever witnessed. Ellen’s “solution” to this problem is a loving touch (and I hope it’s factually accurate).
Everything builds to a fateful climax on April 2, 1976, when 28-year-old Roger … ah, but that would be telling.
David Allen Butler’s production design feels period authentic, from Roger’s Spartan apartment and the cubicle-laden GQ headquarters, to the adult bookstore’s claustrophobic atmosphere of ick. Ellen and Seth’s apartment, in contrast, is colorful, cozy and appointed with an artist’s eye for feng shui.
Editor Michelle Botticelli and the Brothers Bragg give their film a breathless zip that races through their 91-minute running time, and leaves us wanting more. (Another movie blissfully free of bloat, just like Rye Lane. Such a treat.)
Be sure to freeze-frame during the end credits, in order to read the captions of the real-world archival photos that helped give this film its atmosphere.
The Brothers Bragg undoubtedly wanted to do their part to bring renewed respect to pinball; that they’ve succeeded, while also delivering a thoroughly enjoyable cinematic experience, is damn impressive.
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