On "Hustle" and Hurdling the Lowered Bar

When a sports team becomes part of your identity, especially if it’s not a particularly successful one, the people in your life who have picked up on your deviant behavior will gleefully send you any article, video, or piece of content related to that team, as if to say “hey, look! Those weirdos you like? Other people know who they are!”

So it wasn’t much of a surprise that four separate people reached out to me over the past two weeks to say “Hey, you know what movie seems up your alley? 'Hustle!'” The subtext: “You know, 'Hustle,' the movie filmed in and around Philadelphia, with cameos from multiple members of the Philadelphia 76ers, that team you like, but like, way more than you’re supposed to?”

And yes, I’m a 76ers fan, in much the way anyone that grew up in the PA/DE/NJ tri state area could be assumed to be a 4-for-4 Philly sports fan until they prove otherwise. But more than that, I’m a Process-trusting sicko, the kind of Sam Hinkie Kool Aid-guzzling monster that overlooked three years of intentional losing, gleefully argued the merits of TJ McConnell vs. Scottie Wilbekin for a full summer, and treated the signing of JJ Redick as a franchise-legitimizing moment on par with the Red Sox breaking the Curse of the Bambino or that one time the Lions got real close to winning a playoff game. I would watch a two-hour documentary on the team’s disco-tastic victory song if (when) it was made, so of course a movie centered around the team would seem designed to appeal to me specifically.

Of course, all this conflicts with a big, loud, “Chanukah Song”-playing albatross hung around the film’s neck. At this point, it’s about as lukewarm a take as possible to be condescending about Adam Sandler’s movies , and to be clear, I've watched too many episodes of "The Circle" to consider myself a connoisseur of the finer things in movies/television. Yet it’s true that I haven’t found much need for or merit in Sandler's work since the Clinton administration, and even the most generous recollections of the two "classics" that lend his production company its name survive, as many comedies do, on nostalgia and Internet memes. 

And yet, "Hustle" has been extremely well-received by critics and fans and framed as one of Sandler’s growing portfolio of Surprisingly Good Serious Films^TM like "Uncut Gems*," "Punch-Drunk Love," and "The Meyerowitz Stories" that give Sandler critical cache that "Grown Ups 6" or "Fart Police 3" couldn’t muster. And Sandler – who I am required by law to mention can actually ball – certainly seems passionate about pro hoops, invested enough to make a quality sports drama.

The thing about "Uncut Gems" is that as good as Sandler was in that role (and he was!), the film’s overall feel wouldn’t seem markedly different if you dropped, say, Al Pacino or Leonardo DiCaprio or even John C. Reilly in his place. Aside from the requisite appearance of Sandler’s famous friends (Kevin Garnett and Mike Francesa), Gems was the vision and the creation of Josh and Ben Sadfie, through and through, as Punch-Drunk Love was Paul Thomas Anderson’s and Meyerowitz Stories was Noah Baumbach’s. I won’t claim to know much of the work or style of "Hustle" director Jeremiah Zagar, and I don’t need to, because "Hustle" has the Sandman’s fingerprints all over it. It’s a standard Sandler joint dressed in "The Natural’s" clothes.

 

Digging the Fed Donuts sweater though

Sandler plays Stanley Sugerman, which also happens to be the name that comes out when you input any first and last name into an “Adam Sandler Character Name Generator.” Stanley is a beleaguered international scout for the 76ers who’s logged three decades of work in the NBA in hopes of one day making it to coaching. He finally gets his chance when the team’s elderly owner Rex Merrick (Robert Duvall) promotes him to assistant coach; that same day, however, Rex passes away, leaving his jerkass son Bryan Colangelo-er, Vincent (Ben Foster) in charge of the team as owner and ostensible general manager. A few months later, Vince returns Stanley to his role as scout to find the team’s “missing piece,” in part because the prospect Vince just drafted (against Stanley’s recommendation) already looks like a bust.

Stanley travels to Spain and finds an immensely-talented player named Bo Cruz (NBA player Juancho Hernangomez) dominating a local pickup game. Stanley brings Bo to the US to try to get the Sixers to sign him. When the team refuses, Stanley quits his job and devotes himself full time to train the talented but raw Bo into the NBA Draft. Eventually, after a few setbacks and blowups that bring the two men closer together through their similar struggles and love for their family and respective daughters, Bo proves himself and makes it to the NBA, while Stanley gets rehired by the Sixers as assistant coach.

It's possible you’re thinking to yourself, “Wow, thanks for the spoiler alerts, jerk!” But I assure you that the only way I could have spoiled "Hustle" for you is if you are five years old, and if you are five years old, please stop reading this blog and go play outside! Otherwise, you could not possibly identify a single story beat or plot element that you couldn’t have predicted from having watched any other cookie-cutter sports movie:

• ·The gifted-but-raw prospect pulled out of poverty by a middle-aged coach figure putting everything on the line for one last shot.
• The initial embarrassing defeat that shows how far said prospect has left to go to reach his/her potential.
• The training montage, which in "Hustle" lasts for an indefensible ten minutes.
• The argument that drives coach and player to a near-breaking point before the two come to understand each other and become even closer.
• The precocious, sports-ignorant child suggesting something that’s just crazy enough to work – in this case, Stanley’s daughter suggesting they put Bo’s playground showdowns on social media and then press the big red “GO VIRAL” button to get him into the combine.
• The player’s “last chance” after all hope seems lost.
• The female characters that serve no apparent purpose other than to show how much the male leads love their families, illustrate some familial issue, or – in the case of Heidi Gardner’s character – disappear for 75% of the movie only to suddenly reappear at the end to grant Stanley his “happily ever after.” (Seriously, Stanley’s wife, played by Queen freaking Latifah, was a track star in college. What exactly does she do now besides exposit some otherwise-unapparent travel-driven gulf between Stanley and his high school-aged daughter? Why does everyone have so much time to help Stanley train this stranger he flew in from overseas?)

You’ll likely guess the next twist or turn full minutes before they happen, which is a bummer because there were several opportunities to take "Hustle" off the beaten path. My wife noted how frequently Stanley’s wife warned him to eat healthier or he’d have a heart attack; maybe he’d have an actual health crisis stemming from years of eating junk food on the road, forcing Bo to go it alone at the combine? (Nah) When Stanley first calls Vince Merrick imploring them to sign Bo, Vince balks, suggesting there were “other factors”** to consider. What were they? Was the front office getting pressure from an agent or some shadowy league figure to take a different player? (Nope! Never gets mentioned again) The closest "Hustle" comes to a variation on the “sports movie” stereotype is at the end when it borrows from romantic comedies, sending Stanley on a race through the airport to get Bo for a last-second, last-chance talent showcase. Eat your heart out, "Love Actually."

What about the setting? It’s cool that the film was shot almost entirely in Philadelphia and reps a number of local spots, perhaps most prominently the hills of Manayunk. But outside of a crack Stanley makes about Philly sports fans and a single line that might be a Meek Mill reference, the film feels mostly generic, universal, like the playground courts could be in any city with even a modicum of passion for its NBA team. There are Philly-based Easter eggs, sure, but the movie rarely see Stanley or Bo interact with ordinary non-NBA folks, and the Manayunk training sequences take place at 3 AM, not exactly prime "gather a crowd of Philadelphians to cheer you on" time.The references could be swapped in and out like Legos without substantial story impact, the film reskinned with St. John’s, Walt Frazier, and Katz’s instead of Temple, Julius Erving, and Pat’s. There’s a difference between a sports movie set in Philly and a sports movie that embodies Philly.

 

"Trust me, this one *killed* on the set of 'Jack and Jill.'"

A heartwarming, unchallenging sports movie with a predictable plot isn’t the gravest sin. "Remember the Titans" still holds a special place in many hearts without anything remotely resembling a “twist,” and not because of its “based on a true story” designation. It’s the other part, the part I feared most coming in, that bothered me most, the Sandler factor that presumably would have lent this boilerplate flick its originality and character. Admittedly, Sandler is perfectly fine as Stanley, basically acting like late-career Adam Sandler but a little quieter, and with the angry yelling parts accented by dramatic lighting instead of a taser. But if you have an Adam Sandler movie cosplaying as a sports drama, there’s still an Adam Sandler movie hiding under the getup.

Just before the halfway point of the film, Stanley is training Bo in the art of weathering trash talk on the court, because somehow – despite years of playing street ball in Spain and trading verbal barbs with every ball player in his neighborhood – Bo’s one glaring weakness is that he becomes completely incapable of playing basketball well after one (1) American player says “Olé, bitch” to him during a game. The first insult Stanley throws as Bo mid-jumper is “Your mother’s a whore,” and it escalates from there, including a few hastily-translated Spanglish (get it?) invectives. After Bo hits a few shots in a row and seemingly conquers his bugaboo, Stanley closes out the scene as such:

STANLEY: By the way, you mother’s not a whore.

ME: Oh hell yeah, here it comes.

BO: Oh yeah? Thanks.

ME: Hang on, we’re coming in for a landing.

STANLEY: Yeah, whores get paid. Your mother shakes that ass for free.

ME: YEEEEESSSS!

If I could see anything from a distance the way I could see that punchline coming from a hundred miles away, I wouldn’t need the glasses I never wear anyway.

Sandler’s comedic sensibilities are unmistakable. He simply cannot help himself. Every bit, every setup, every recurring joke has its bones in a prior Sandler work, which in turn almost certainly finds its DNA in another prior Sandler work. It’s a self-referential Jenga tower. It’s scenes like Stanley meeting Bo’s family where the misdirection is obvious from the moment Bo’s mother Paola says that Bo “lost” his father at a young age. (Surprise: it also involves the word “whore!”) It’s the body-shaming “titties” joke in an early pool scene. It’s the cartoonishly cruel antagonists pouring it on with that one extra, needlessly-personal dig straight out of the Jon Taffer playbook to justify the protagonist snapping, even when they would’ve been warranted in doing so 20 seconds prior. It’s the many, many, many porn jokes.  It’s the one-note joke character introduced near the beginning of the film and dragged back out near the conclusion for something resembling a callback (this time around, it’s Boban Marjanovic’s ambiguously-aged “Big Serbian,” which I suppose is an improvement over Rob Schneider’s “You can do it!” guy or Steve Buscemi’s homeless veteran) Any time "Hustle" tries to weasel in a moment of comedic levity, it feels imported from a completely different movie, like if all the quips in "Bull Durham" were being delivered by Bobby Boucher.

 

Tobias Harris out here risking a $180 million contract for the Gram.

I’ve done a lot of griping, but I wouldn’t say "Hustle" is a bad movie. The story wraps up far too neatly at the end, but the actual basketball sequences are solid and the acting is fine on balance. Plus, Sandler and SpringHill Company (the production company founded by LeBron James and business partner Maverick Carter) truly flex their muscle in the cameo department.

The abundance of actual NBA players and personalities dotting every scene does a good job of establishing verisimilitude while giving basketball fans the extra treat of identifying all the familiar faces (shout out Aaron McKie), although it’s a bit confusing that a majority of players appear as themselves – Dirk Nowitzki, Trae Young (BOOOOO), and Tobias Harris (who presumably is still making $36 million a year in this world but still inexplicably risks his body to play this random Spanish prospect in one-on-one on the streets of Philadelphia in the movie) – but a handful, like Timberwolves star Anthony Edwaards and the aforementioned Hernangomez, play fictional characters. Marjanovic, a fairly recognizable player in his own right, plays a character identified only as “Big Serbian,” while poor Moe Wagner gets stuck playing the schmuck German prospect Haas. Most confusingly, Kenny Smith plays an agent named Leon Rich (presumably a reference to real-life NBA agents Rich Paul and Leon Rose) instead of…you know…Kenny Smith, co-host of "Inside the NBA," one of the most watched sports studio shows on television. No matter how many times Stanley called him “Leon,” it’s impossible not to think “Oh, that’s Kenny Smith. This Sixers scout is friends with Kenny Smith” any time he made it on screen. (Compounding the problem, "Hustle" includes an "Inside the NBA" clip that features Shaquille O'Neal, Charles Barkley, and Ernie Johnson opining on Bo Cruz’s draft prospects. Where oh where was Kenny during that broadcast? Shooting a movie?)

So no, "Hustle" is not a bad movie, it’s an unchallenging movie. It’s a “love letter to basketball” as several critics all managed to determine all on their own somehow, easily-digestible without quite sinking to junk food level. It’s comfort food cooked with a standard-issue story, eye-rolling Sandlerness (which I am sure is comforting to somebody) and a deluge of big names. It shouldn’t be a shock: Adam Sandler and LeBron James weren’t going to jeopardize their league-wide relationships by creating an adventurous, irreverent challenge to the NBA hierarchy. And to be clear, there is nothing wrong with enjoying comfort food or comfort media. Sometimes, you don’t want to have to wrap your head around dream extraction to enjoy a movie. Sometimes, you just want to sleepwalk through Sleepless in Seattle or Sleepless in Seattle on an AOL Trial Disk. It’s fine!

What’s confusing – and a little annoying to me, a very petty person with misplaced priorities – is how something so basic could become one of the most well-reviewed films of Sandler’s career. "Hustle" is “one of the most textured and affectionate basketball that’s come along in a long time.” It could turn Manayunk Hill into a local landmark the way “Rocky did for those 72 stone steps leading to the Philadelphia Art Museum.” (what?) Sandler “may receive another Oscar nod for this portrayal,” the reviewer apparently awarding Sandler a nomination he didn’t actually get for Uncut Gems.

The only explanation I can come up with is that we’ve all been bamboozled in different ways. Having fed us a consistent diet of low-brow dreck, Sandler’s recent attempts to even touch the accelerator after decades of coasting is like biting into an Applebee’s hamburger after subsisting on exclusively hardtack sandwiches and Diet Swill for years. There’s a growing narrative that we’re experiencing something of a “Sandlerssance” based on his output the past few years, a perception only sustainable by ignoring "Hubie Halloween"**** and a Sandler-produced “David Spade as Adam Sandler” comedy sandwiched between "Gems" and "Hustle." But everyone loves an underdog story, whether it’s a down-on-his-luck Spanish hooper fighting to make the big time or a 90’s SNL star rebounding from a career of keeping Nick Swardson on the payroll to make Surprisingly Good Serious Films^TM.

And to be clear, I count myself among the bamboozled. I saw the trailers, took the recommendations from my family and friends, got excited about seeing Tyrese Maxey and Matisse Thybulle in a movie, and decided to trust the process. I came in for a great sports movie, and I got an Adam Sandler movie in disguise.

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*-"Uncut Gems" was one of the last movies I saw in theaters before the pandemic and I really enjoyed it. Coincidentally, "Gems’" plot also centers around the Sixers, specifically their 2012 playoff series against the Celtics. My near-perfect recollection of how each game in that series went was a minor, though not prohibitive spoiler of certain parts of the movie. Brandon Bass can still go to hell.

**-As it turns out, there were “other factors” in Bo’s past that came back to haunt him when he tried to enter the United States, but the Sixers didn’t know about this at the time.

***-For those keeping track of LeBron James' passive aggressiveness, I noted only one appearance by any of his current Lakers teammates in "Hustle": a post-credits highlight of Anthony Davis getting punked by Boban Marjanovic in a real game.

****-Apologies to my wife, who loved "Hubie Halloween." It was a pandemic, guys.