When the 'GOAT' Promise Becomes a Flailing Football Fiasco: Lessons for Gaming from 'Him'
AI Gaming News Author · IGN South Africa ·
This Jeff-style article repurposes a film review for 'Him' to highlight critical lessons for the gaming industry, especially concerning hype, unfulfilled promises, and superficial design, using the movie's flaws as a metaphorical blueprint for common gaming disappointments.
Right, so you know that feeling, don't you? That electric buzz when a new game is announced, backed by a big name producer, promising something genuinely groundbreaking. You see the trailers, you read the interviews, and you reckon, 'Bloody hell, this is going to be epic!' Then, a few months later, it drops, and you're left scratching your head, wondering if someone accidentally cast a 'conjure hype, forget substance' spell.
Well, I've been tinkering with a recent film review – Justin Tipping’s *Him*, which had the Jordan Peele producer tag draped all over it like a particularly fancy, but ultimately misleading, launch trailer. And fair warning: while it’s a movie we're talking about, the review reads like a cautionary tale for the gaming industry itself, especially when we talk about chasing the next big 'revolutionary' thing, Web3 or otherwise.
The original review from IGN South Africa called it a 'flimsy football horror movie' that’s 'barely competent' and makes 'very little visceral impact.' Sound familiar, mate? How many times have we seen a game that looked amazing on paper – or in that super slick pre-alpha footage – only to crumble under the weight of its own half-baked ideas?
*Him* kicks off (pun absolutely intended) in its most intriguing phase, much like a game's perfectly crafted tutorial level. We're introduced to Isaiah White, a legendary quarterback, and his team, the San Antonio Saviors. He suffers a horrific injury, and a young Cam Cade watches, internalizing his military father's 'no-pain-no-gain' philosophy. 'That’s what a real man looks like,' the dad declares, pointing at White's dangling leg. Now, if that doesn't scream 'meta-game grind' or 'unhealthy competitive culture' in esports, I don't know what does. You know, that relentless pursuit of 'GOAT' status, often at the expense of sanity or even basic enjoyment. We've all seen games that push you to that brink, haven't we?
As Cade rises through the college ranks, becoming a prodigy, and White recovers to become an all-time legend, the stage is set for an epic rivalry. This is where the game, or film in this case, starts introducing some 'weird new mechanics' – rattling goalposts, an infinitely spinning ball, a mascot attack leaving Cade with scalp staples like football stitches. You’d expect these strange occurrences to hint at some deeper lore, some genuinely unsettling horror that ramps up the tension, right? But much like a game introducing unique status effects or environmental hazards that never quite pay off, the review suggests these moments feel more like disconnected visual glitches than meaningful threats. They just… *are*.
The narrative then takes a detour to White's isolated ranch for a week-long bootcamp. And this, according to the review, is where the movie truly 'starts to break down.' White's 'museum to himself' reveals an 'idiosyncratic celebrity ego,' and the 'eerie things' that happen – a Saw-like scenario of physical punishment, a crazed super-fan – are isolated incidents that feel, and I quote, like 'half-baked conception.' This perfectly encapsulates the feeling when a game's mid-section becomes a confusing mess. You're in what should be the juicy part of the gameplay loop, the meat of the experience, but instead, you're wandering through hallways 'awash in shadow' only to find 'occasional visions of a paparazzo' – digital ghosts that aren't dangerous, just… a bit silly. It’s like a boss fight where the boss is just a slightly annoying NPC and you’re wondering if your GPU is artifacting or if this is actually part of the design.
And then there's the climax. Oh, the climax. Ninety minutes in, a runtime that 'feels like an eternity,' and the film 'spouts off in a dozen different directions.' Disconnected Christian and pagan symbols, unresolved mysteries, haphazard camera work obscuring even simple dialogue scenes. It's the equivalent of a game's final act that tries to cram in too many plot twists, too many unresolved side quests, and completely forgets to land the emotional punch. You're left at 'arm’s distance' from the protagonist, his visions 'amusing' rather than dangerous. No catharsis, just confusion. It’s like the developers ran out of time and just threw every half-finished idea at the wall, hoping something would stick.
What’s genuinely 'disturbing' about *Him*, the review points out, is the *actual football*. Tipping shoots it like a 'visceral and uncomfortable display of aggression,' with 'disturbing “crunches”' and X-ray footage of what hits do to the body and brain. This is where the movie *almost* hits home, hinting at the dark underbelly of hyper-masculinity and the brutal cost of the 'no-pain-no-gain' philosophy. It reminds us that sometimes, the most unsettling 'features' in a game aren't the monsters, but the relentless grind, the pressure to conform, or the 'deals-with-the-devil' monetization schemes that demand your sacrifice for the coveted 'GOAT' label.
In the end, despite Marlon Wayans' 'bravura performance' (the equivalent of a fantastic voice actor or character artist trying to carry a fundamentally broken game), *Him* is simply 'really bad.' It's a prime example of a concept that sounds intriguing – football horror! – but fails spectacularly in execution, delivering bland ideas and a confounding experience. It's 'papered over with colorful lighting but underscored by bland ideas.'
And there, my curious gamer mates, is the rub. Whether it's a big-budget film or the next 'revolutionary' Web3 game, the lesson remains the same: Hype is fleeting. Big names can pull you in. Flashy visuals might distract for a moment. But if the core concept is 'half-baked,' if the narrative breaks down, and if the promised innovation just leads to a confusing, emotionally weightless mess, then you’re not getting a 'GOAT' – you're getting a goat rodeo. Let's keep that healthy skepticism alive, eh? Always look beyond the PR speak and ask: does it actually *play* well, or is it just a pretty picture with a flimsy story?
(This dive into *Him*'s theatrical missteps was inspired by a review from IGN South Africa.)
Tags: gaming industry, game design, player experience, hype cycle, game reviews
Original article: IGN South Africa