3.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity and occasional profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 12.24.15
Great movie entrances are pure
magic.
Consider George C. Scott’s eyebrow-raising
pep talk, at the opening of Patton. John Travolta, strutting down the street,
in Saturday Night Fever. Or,
more recently, Christian Bale’s meticulous “suiting up” and comb-over, in American Hustle. Everything you need to know about each of these characters,
in one quick scene.
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| When renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Julian Bailes (Alec Baldwin, center) finally gains an audience with veteran NFL doctor Joseph Maroon (Arliss Howard, right), Dr. Bennet Omalu (Will Smith) is enraged to hear that his meticulous research into brain injuries is being dismissed. With prejudice. |
Writer/director Peter Landesman
grants Will Smith’s Dr. Bennet Omalu a similarly illuminating entrance, as Concussion begins. It’s a courtroom confrontation; Omalu has taken the stand
to testify; his credentials have been challenged. In a bravura display of gentle
chiding, unassuming pride and a droll insistence on full disclosure — leavened
with an oh-so-slightly-mocking sense of humor — Omalu takes complete control of
the room.
It’s a brilliant display of
acting chops by Smith, who — from this moment onward — firmly has our hearts
and minds. We’ve learned everything essential about this doctor, mostly
crucially that he is a good and honorable man. That he respects the dignity of
others, and insists — in turn — that they respect him.
The scene is marvelous: destined
to become a much-viewed YouTube hit.
And, of course, the perfect way
for Landesman to start his film.
Concussion, based on journalist
Jeanne Marie Laskas’ exhaustive September 2009 exposé in GQ Magazine, charts
Omalu’s initially lonely and Sisyphean struggle to get the National Football
League to acknowledge that grown men bashing their heads together, even when
wearing the (minimal) protection afforded by a helmet, likely isn’t good for
their grey matter.
Indeed, far from “not good.”
Potentially life-altering, even deadly.
Sensible people, confronted with
such a suggestion, would nod and say, “Well, of course; what else would you
expect?”
But the NFL circled the wagons,
sent out the lawyers, and — possibly — pulled strings in Washington, D.C., to
thoroughly discredit anybody daft enough to suggest such a thing. We’re talking
football, folks: the one thing in Amuuurica capable of generating more foolish
passion than the right for each citizen to own 437 guns.
But that’s getting ahead of
things.
