As a historically sidelined genre of mainstream cinema, horror has often been granted the greatest leeway for subversive storytelling. Removed from the strict parameters of the comic book movie or the spy thriller, horror films exercise the most versatility in positioning unusual protagonists at their narrative core.
Such is the case with Justin Tipping’s second directorial outing ‘Him’, which presents a predominantly Black cast as well as a striking subversion of bodily beauty. Here it is not the slim, white female body that occupies the central focus of the camera’s gaze, but Black male beauty in the form of its two captivating leads, Marlon Wayans and Tyriq Withers.
A thrillingly modern and kinetic reimagining of the classic ‘sell your soul to the devil’ parable – a successor of sorts to 1997’s ‘The Devil’s Advocate’ – ‘Him’ follows a star American football player (Withers) taken under the wing of famed athlete Isaiah White (Wayans), whose legendary status, we learn, may not have been the result of training and human talent alone.
The fusion of sports movie and high-violence horror is a novel combination, and one achieved here with great style and energy. The editing is propulsive and well-paced, supported by a winningly eerie original score by Bobby Krlic.
Beyond that, the soundtrack features some outstanding needle drops from contemporary hip hop and rap, lending the film a beguiling quality of freshness. By many standards, ‘Him’ feels electrically modern.
Situated within the world of professional sports, the film also places its eye on those bodies that are not generally given extensive screen time in current filmmaking. The occasional appearances of bikini-clad women as the embodiment of illicit sin and vice are something of an afterthought, a choice that underlines the usual preoccupation that mainstream film places on white female beauty.
Instead, large spans of ‘Him’ place their gaze on Wayans and Withers, frequently shirtless or otherwise lingering on their musculature during the snappy, violent training sequences. One scene even pits Withers in an extended physical examination, naked, as the camera spins around him while his biceps and shoulders are tape-measured.
It is this willingness to place Black male beauty in such a prominent position that lends ‘Him’ its heightened sense of modernity and, again, freshness. It is the first time that I, as a white queer viewer, have observed a Black male lead as both the action hero as well as the object of the camera’s studious gaze.
It is a refreshing subversion of what mainstream cinema has previously regarded as worthy of focus, coupled with the fantastic screen presence of Wayans and Withers, that successfully carries the film across its more grisly body horror elements.
While the inevitable final battle between kingmaker and young usurper comes across a tad underwhelming – and its dishing out of Black justice against the sea of white antagonists does feel derivative of territory covered in Tarantino’s ‘Django Unchained’ – ‘Him’ is worth a trip to the cinema.
Visually inventive and mercifully original (no sequel or extended universe in sight), this standalone entry into contemporary horror cinema is refreshingly Black-centric and a strong reminder of Marlon Wayans’ ability to carry a movie on his shoulders.
