For audiences who have been patiently awaiting the movie where comedy filmmaker turned feel-good inspirational director Tom Shadyac (“The Nutty Professor,” “Bruce Almighty”) casts Morgan Freeman to basically play God again, well, that wait is finally over. But the small value beyond that in the sports drama “Brian Banks“— think, “The Blind Side,” and “Glory Road”— littered with a number of problematic plot points and unintentionally offensive narrative emblems, including the exasperating white savior cliché, is negligible.
Based on the true story of the football player after which the film is named— a former linebacker for the Atlanta Falcon’s whose career trajectory was halted when he was falsely accused of sexual assault— “Brian Banks,” is a wobbly, legal sports drama that struggles to overcome extremely poor timing, a muddy message, and its would-be magically uplifting tropes.
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While there are certainly relevant and inspiring components to the real-life story, and the movie is certainly well-intentioned, it was probably never wise to expect any sort of deep social commentary on post #MeToo, racial assumptions and the unjust corruption of our legal system from a courtroom drama directed by the guy who got knocked on the head so hard, he abandoned the millions he made while making Jim Carrey comedies, and dedicated his life to a humanistic spiritualism, living in a trailer park and making so-called meaningful movies.
“Brian Banks,” is your standard sports film until it shifts into legal territory around half-time. Football helped Brian Banks (Aldis Hodge) feel free, the voice-over says in a spoon feed. But the former prodigy is now on parole, having been released from prison after pleading “no contest” to sexual assault and kidnapping charges when he was 16— thanks to poor legal advice, he was tried as an adult. Brian is now registered as a sex offender, he can’t be within certain distances of certain places— including public parks and football stadiums— and no one will hire him due to his troubled past. His once prosperous NFL journey is essentially over.
But things eventually change, when after several heartbreaking setbacks, the linebacker reaches out to a lawyer with a heart of gold (Greg Kinnear), co-founder of an organization called the California Innocence Project (CIP) and asks for help in re-opening his case— a circumstance full of contradictions and shaky evidence. Brooks believes Brian’s story, but tells him that being exonerated is likely a long lost cause, insisting they will need a confession from the alleged victim, Kinnesha (Xosha Roquemore) in order to overturn his conviction.
Things then become eye-rollingly phony and convenient after that, especially when Brian receives a message from his accuser on Facebook out of nowhere and the movie essentially falls apart with awful, soap opera-y plot contrivances, ideological hypocrisy, and morally dubious choices.
Cliché after cliché follows. The football player’s mother (Sherri Shepherd) randomly materializes with the perfect monologue at just the right moment. If you’ve forgotten about Morgan Freeman’s character (Brian’s self-improvement mentor in prison) that’s because the film pretty much does also; he only exists to put his hand on the protagonist’s shoulder in clunky flashbacks.
Given today’s political climate, the NFL’s wonky history with such issues, and the privilege biases that come with being a professional athlete, “Brian Banks” is sort of an inherently problematic viewing experience. It implies that the only reason the athlete’s case was even heard is because Brian was an NFL prodigy who had a famous lawyer, and the media caught wind of his story. Were it not for his superstar potential as an athlete, and the generosity of his do-gooding lawyer, any other wrongfully convicted Black kid in the same situation would struggle for the rest of his life.
Sadly, “Brian Banks” has more in common with standard, white savior narratives like “Million Dollar Arm,” than it does with thought-provoking films about race and privilege like the recently released “Luce” (a film that is flawed, but absolute fire.) Shadyac’s movie may ask difficult questions about the ills that society grapples with today, but it tackles them in a shallow, facile, sometimes uncomfortably out of touch manner. By the time the end title cards roll around, the disappointing “Brian Banks,” serves as nothing more than throwaway sports movie made for Lifetime, completely lacking the depth needed to inspire the dialogue it hopes to achieve. [D+]