Jordan Peele has carved out a space in modern cinema where horror is more than jump scares—it’s a mirror for society’s obsessions and fears. While he doesn’t direct Him, his producing fingerprints are unmistakable: unsettling ideas wrapped in spectacle, social commentary colliding with horror. For director Justin Tipping (Kicks), Him is a bold, surreal, and unrelentingly intense statement. It’s messy at times, but it’s also one of the most captivating films of the year.
A Promising Career Cut Down
The story begins in a grounded, almost sports-movie register. Cameron “Cam” Cade (Tyriq Withers, I Know What You Did Last Summer) is a college quarterback on the cusp of NFL glory, primed for a scouting event that could define his career. But fate, or something more sinister, intervenes: he’s attacked by a masked assailant and left with a traumatic brain injury. Doctors tell him to walk away. His father’s mantra—that success is worth any cost—makes that impossible.
Pushed forward by his opportunistic agent (Tim Heidecker), Cam seizes the chance to train with Isaiah White (Marlon Wayans), a legendary quarterback he’s idolised since childhood. From the moment he arrives at White’s isolated desert compound—after an eerie encounter with grotesque, cult-like figures—it’s clear this won’t be normal coaching. White greets him warmly, confiscates his phone, and introduces him to “radical detachment,” a form of brutal isolation meant to sharpen his focus. From there, the film shifts from sports drama to surreal psychological nightmare.
Blood, Sweat, and Horror
Cameron’s training is nothing like the drills he expected. Overseen by White, a wisecracking doctor (comedian Jim Jefferies), and a hulking trainer (MMA fighter Maurice Greene), Cam is subjected to grueling physical punishment and mental torment. “You ain’t nothing but an emotional little pretty boy,” White sneers, pushing him to the breaking point. The cruelty extends to others, including a fellow athlete who becomes collateral damage in White’s sadistic drills—football after football smashing into his face for every one of Cam’s mistakes.
Adding to the unease are the “treatments” Cam endures: repeated injections and blood transfusions of unknown origin. As his body heals—or mutates—his mind fractures. Hallucinations bleed into reality. Faces distort. The dream of football glory begins to look more like a nightmare cult ritual.
Performances That Land Hard
Withers shoulders the film with impressive restraint, often conveying Cam’s pain and determination in silence. It’s a demanding role, and he makes the character both sympathetic and unsettlingly obsessive. But the real revelation is Marlon Wayans. Known primarily for comedy, Wayans sinks his teeth into Isaiah White, giving a career-best performance. He’s charismatic and terrifying, blurring mentor, father figure, and tormentor into one magnetic force. Julia Fox adds a jolt of wired chaos as White’s unsettling partner, while Heidecker slyly plays against type as Cam’s greedy agent.
Style on Steroids
Tipping directs with feverish intensity. Imagine Darren Aronofsky at his most abrasive (Requiem for a Dream), mashed with the slickness of a Nike ad, and you’re close. Every frame is curated within an inch of its life—Kira Kelly’s cinematography gleams, the editing snaps like a whip, and visual tricks pile up one after another. At times, the style risks overshadowing the story, but it also fuels the movie’s propulsive, surreal energy. You’re never allowed to relax, and that’s exactly the point. Every frame is meticulously composed, with Kira Kelly’s cinematography dazzling in its surreal precision. Quick cuts, stylised edits, and bold visual flourishes sometimes threaten to overwhelm the narrative, but they also make Him impossible to look away from.
Ideas Beneath the Chaos
Him is more than style. Beneath the blood and bravado, it interrogates the cult of celebrity athletes, toxic masculinity, racial politics, the commodification of bodies, and the crushing weight of generational expectation. Not every theme fully coheres, but the ambition is thrilling. When it clicks—particularly in the frenzied final act—the film feels electric, like it’s rewriting what a sports movie can be.
A fever dream of ambition, horror, and broken bodies, Him is an unforgettable experience. It’s a breakthrough for Tyriq Withers, a career-defining showcase for Marlon Wayans, and proof that Justin Tipping is a filmmaker worth watching. Overwhelming at times? Absolutely. But in its wild, stylish, terrifying way, Him is one of the year’s most audacious films.
Performances That Bite
Relative newcomer Withers is magnetic, carrying much of the film with quiet intensity. His silence speaks volumes as visions and injuries tear at his psyche. But it’s Marlon Wayans who dominates, delivering the performance of his career. His Isaiah White is unpredictable—sometimes father figure, sometimes executioner—and Wayans attacks every scene with unnerving energy. Julia Fox also leaves an impression as White’s enigmatic girlfriend, equal parts unnerving and entertaining.
Final Thoughts
Him is a trippy fusion of horror, sports thriller, and psychological nightmare. It’s a bold showcase for Justin Tipping, a breakthrough moment for Tyriq Withers, and a revelation for Marlon Wayans. At times overwhelming, but never less than gripping, Him is one of the year’s most fascinating cinematic experiences.
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