Director: Ben Affleck
Writer: Alex Convery
Stars: Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Viola Davis
Synopsis: Follows the history of shoe salesman Sonny Vaccaro, and how he led Nike in its pursuit of the greatest athlete in the history of basketball: Michael Jordan.
It’s been just shy of over a decade since Ben Affleck directed Best Picture Winner Argo, but he’s never really left the eye of the public. In that time, he’s been announced as Batman, confirmed he is done playing Batman, returned as Batman, directed Live By Night, his coldly-received Best Picture follow-up effort, starred in the insanely under appreciated The Last Duel, reunited with his bestie Kevin Smith, married Jennifer Lopez, and, of course, become the ultimate spokesperson/meme extraordinaire of Dunkin’ Donuts. All that is just the tip of the iceberg. The point being: a lot has happened over the years, and time can fly by to the point that everything seems unrecognizable. And that’s exactly how Affleck’s Air begins, with a fun catch. Yes, 1984 is almost 40 years in the past, and the present world should be completely unrecognizable ten times over. In many ways, it is, but luckily we have all the colorful and fun iconography of the mid ‘80s to ground us. But there’s an even larger link between then and now: Michael Jordan. The immortal figure, or rather his mythos, around which this film centers itself in a fascinating way.
Air follows Matt Damon as Sonny Vaccaro, the Nike employee who (spoiler) brought Michael Jordan to the company at a time of dire straits. While Vaccaro didn’t achieve this alone, and we will surely touch on the supporting players shortly, Air very much feels centered around Vaccaro setting forth the big risks being taken; and Damon excels in this role. There’s a pivotal moment around the third act of this film that feels like an Oscar reel playing out live before your eyes. The reason being is simple: it’s wholeheartedly believable, and even for just those moments, it feels as if the lines between character, actor, and real-life persona blend into something magic. When paired with the editing of Oscar-winning William Goldenberg, it’s deeply chilling. Some may question whether this film will feel impactful knowing the outcome of Nike and all the success of the Air Jordan sneaker and brand. To them, I say, “You must not have seen the fervor and energy The Last Dance created.” When it comes to Michael Jordan (whose face is unseen in the film aside from archival footage), the very idea of his presence is enough to captivate viewers. For those who witnessed him play, the feeling must be indescribable. But for those who haven’t, I would argue that it becomes even more powerful. To live in a world where the man and the brand bearing his name is practically inescapable, the mythos this film encapsulates is deeply felt without practically any effort. So the fact that a talented cast and crew came aboard for this makes each moment hit harder and more effectively.
At one point, Phil Knight (Affleck) makes the claim, “You’re remembered for the rules you break.” By no means does Air feel as if it’s redefining the biopic in any sense, or breaking any rules impactfully along the way, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t play to its strengths. Take for example, the repeated motif of personal ambition and the lengths one will sometimes go to in order to prove something. Throughout the film, many conversations are framed in extreme close-ups with varying, almost jarring, shifts in focus. These moments of clarity, or lack thereof, feel as if Affleck wants the viewer to know that, at times, we sometimes have to hear what we want to hear. Personal ambition and ego can get in the way of many things, that is a certainty in life. But if everybody were to live pragmatically for the rest of time, would any innovation ever come about? Between that and an unshakeable belief in oneself and those around us, it feels like anything can be achieved. It’s in this notion that Viola Davis grounds the film as Deloris Jordan, Michael’s mother.
In a statement regarding the film, Affleck noted that he “came to the realization that the fulcrum of the movie is… Deloris.” It shouldn’t be a surprise that Davis comes across as a true force to be reckoned with on screen, as per usual. She brings a sense of gravitas and fierceness to any role she takes on, regardless of how much screen time she may have. Unfortunately, it does feel as if the film leans more towards other characters and their stories a bit more, but her presence is massively felt throughout the film, especially in the third act. One reason that Air works so well is because the history of Michael Jordan and the Air Jordan sneaker is etched in stone. As montages are shown of what audiences all know is to come, a large part of it all stems from Deloris; and we are acutely aware of it. From how she raised Michael, to the ground-breaking deal she made insisting her son take a percentage of the shoe profits, Davis brings a genuine belief to the film that grounds it all in the end. It’s a moment that extends far beyond the film, far beyond sneakers, far beyond basketball; we see a mother wholeheartedly endorsing her child solely based on her belief in him, and that’s all an audience needs to latch onto the success story Air depicts.
While Air certainly leans heavily into the 40-year nostalgia of 1984, it feels very earnest and well-earned. Most films that lean into nostalgia in such a way feel hollow. There are many culprits, some more blatant than others, yet Affleck’s film is able to find a genuine middle ground. When discussing the film, Damon and Affleck both repeatedly harkened upon how Jordan “meant so much to” them and “loomed so large in [their] childhood[s].” Above all, this film is a scrappy, fun look at how one of the most recognizable brands of all time came to be. It’s an emotional, honest ode to a mother making sure her son gets all that he deserves. It’s a movie where the great Matthew Maher is introduced within a basement lair at Nike like he’s the next MCU superhero. More often than not, AIR succeeds in its mission of being a crowd-pleaser, with something genuine to say.
Grade: C+
