Longtime pals Ben Affleck and Matt Damon have re-teamed to make Air, the true story of the development of Nike’s Air Jordan sneakers. If this doesn’t sound like promising material, it isn’t. Although Air, directed by Affleck, undeniably has its moments—and there is plenty of talent involved—overall, it’s a story that isn’t worth devoting an entire feature film to.
In 1984, Nike “basketball guru” Sonny Vaccaro (Damon) becomes intensely driven to sign up-and-coming basketball star Michael Jordan to be Nike’s NBA spokesman and have his own flagship shoe line. Nike CEO Phil Knight (Affleck) basically respects Vaccaro, but, like most of Nike’s staff, has serious doubts about Jordan. Facing competing offers from rivals Adidas and Converse, Vaccaro takes it upon himself to deal directly with Jordan’s parents, Deloris (Viola Davis) and James (Julius Tennon). Like the U.S. president in old movies, Jordan himself is represented, but never faces the camera.
For those who lived during the film’s period, Air’s focus on retro trappings has a certain charm. It is, after all, the origin story of an ’80s pop-culture touchstone, so it continually spills over with contemporary artifacts. The opening montage features clips ranging from a “Where’s the beef?” ad to Ridley Scott’s dystopian Apple Macintosh commercial—but nostalgia alone can’t carry this film.
Unconventional biopics can be very satisfying, but Air is thin and flat virtually from start to finish. It shoots for the uplifting, rousing spirit of a traditional sports movie, something its predictable climax can’t deliver on. And since the story is peppered with sports allusions and terminology, it loses resonance for anyone with scant interest in basketball.
The cast isn’t at fault here. Among them, Chris Tucker is a standout as Vaccaro’s co-worker, Howard White. As frantic as ever, Tucker lightens Air up whenever he’s onscreen. The other actors are decent, and Damon, Davis, and Tennon generally bring a naturalness to their roles. Sadly, Davis’ pivotal character is deeply underutilized. As sleazy agent David Falk, scene-stealing Chris Messina has some of the film’s funniest moments.
Overall, Affleck’s direction is decent, as is Robert Richardson’s cinematography, and they are at their best when shooting in intimate closeup, letting the actors’ faces tell the story. There are some genuinely engrossing and entertaining scenes, including Vaccaro’s first sit-down meeting with Mrs. Jordan, and a foul-mouthed phone exchange between Vaccaro and Falk. But to call Air inconsistent is a gigantic understatement.
The biggest problem here is that anyone of a certain age or with a decent knowledge of American pop culture knows how this story ends well in advance. Unlike Affleck’s far better Argo, there is no suspense about who will emerge victorious. And the fact is, the characters here aren’t on some kind of valiant crusade: The most ’80s thing about Air is its fixation on money. The non-moral of this story seems to be that making gigantic sums of cash is intrinsically great. Darker aspects of Nike’s past, like the heavy criticism it received for its outsourcing practices, is scarcely referred to. Instead, what the audience gets is cheerleading for a sneaker company, and, any way you cut it, the creation and marketing of a basketball shoe is essentially uninteresting. What it all amounts to is plenty of dead air.
Air
R, 112 minutes
Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, Violet Crown, Regal Stonefield
