Grade: C
One of the many turning points in The Blind Side - a movie made up almost entirely of turning points and yet seriously devoid of drama or suspense - comes during a Memphis high school football game. Michael Oher, the offensive tackle whose remarkable life is the subject of the film (and the nonfiction best seller on which it is based), is having trouble protecting his quarterback.
An especially obnoxious player on the opposing team taunts Michael and evades his blocks down after down. But finally Michael snaps into focus and, on a climactically important play, grabs hold of the guy and steamrolls him all the way down the field, dumping him into the stands as the crowd (in the stadium and also, most likely, those watching at home) cheers.
What Michael (played by Quinton Aaron) does to that hapless defender is pretty much what Sandra Bullock does to the viewer for the entirety of The Blind Side, which is a very long time. Bullock plays Leigh Anne Tuohy, a Memphis decorator who, along with her family, rescues Michael from homelessness and sets him on a path to football stardom. The outlines of the story - and the details as recounted in Michael Lewis's book - are both interesting and inspiring. A wealthy, white Southern family adopts a poor black teenager, cultivating his athletic gifts and providing him with the comfort and safety of a happy, loving home.
And the film. mot unsurprisingly for a release from a major Hollywood studio, plays this story straight down the middle, shedding nuance and complication in favor of maximum uplift. Bullock is convincing enough as an energetic, multitasking woman of the New South, who knows her own mind and usually gets her own way. And Tim McGraw, as Leigh Anne's affable husband, Sean, inhabits his character comfortably and knows how to get out of Bullock's way when necessary.
The Tuohys have a pretty daughter named Collins (Lily Collins) and a wisecracking whirlgig of a son, SJ (Jae Head), who would, if this were an animated children's movie, be Michael's annoying-but-lovable talking-animal sidekick. And The Blind Side, written and directed by John Lee Hancock (The Rookie, The Alamo), is, in effect, a live-action, reality-based version of a Disney cartoon: it's the heartwarming tale of a foundling taken in by strangers, who accept him even though he's different and treat him as one of their own.
In a typical Disney movie, however, that process would be full of conflict, excitement and danger. The Blind Side, until the end - when an NCAA bureaucrat throws a hasty obstacle in the way of Michael's triumph - is more like a two-hour holiday greeting card. Leigh Anne and Sean first spot Michael in the school gym after one of Collins's volleyball games, and on the drive home figure out that, even though he attends this private Christian academy on scholarship, he has no place to sleep. Before you know it this impulsive act of generosity turns into a project, to which Leigh Anne devotes herself with tireless zeal.
A few of her friends raise eyebrows and make unkind remarks, but she puts them in their places with a few heartfelt, angry words and a swell of soundtrack music. She does the same to the drug dealer back in the projects where Michael used to live, and to anyone else who messes with her and her family.
All of which can be fun to watch, as are the walk-ons from real-life college coaches. And Bullock's brisk self-confidence can be appealing - until it becomes annoying. The biggest problem here is that her character never changes, never experiences a moment of doubt or guilt or selfishness, and after a while her display of goodness sinks into vanity. And Michael is a curiously blank character, his inner life lost in the glare of Leigh Anne's self-congratulation. His pre-Tuohy life is a flurry of flashbacks and vague stories meant - like that drug dealer and Michael's drug-addicted mother, who appears on screen briefly - to conjure a world of violence, dysfunction and despair.
The Blind Side is interested only in that world as an occasion for selective charity, and it is only slightly more interested in Michael's inner life. He seems shy, grateful, sometimes sad and always, to Leigh Anne, an open book. She hears that a psychological test shows Michael to have an unusually strong protective instinct, and uses that information to unlock his latent offensive-tackle abilities. The left tackle's job is to protect the quarterback from unseen opponents, and if Michael just thinks of the quarterback as his family - "as me," Leigh Anne says - he'll know just what to do with the other team. And it works, just as if the young man were a 300-pound robot she had programmed with the flip of a switch.
And the viewer at home is meant to respond in similar fashion, choking up, chuckling with warm laughter, feeling so sorry for this poor young man and so gratified that he found someone to care for him. Will you be moved? Maybe, though only in the sense that "moved" can describe the experience of a defensive player, overpowered by a blocker and left flat on his back with a possible concussion.
One of the many turning points in The Blind Side - a movie made up almost entirely of turning points and yet seriously devoid of drama or suspense - comes during a Memphis high school football game. Michael Oher, the offensive tackle whose remarkable life is the subject of the film (and the nonfiction best seller on which it is based), is having trouble protecting his quarterback.
An especially obnoxious player on the opposing team taunts Michael and evades his blocks down after down. But finally Michael snaps into focus and, on a climactically important play, grabs hold of the guy and steamrolls him all the way down the field, dumping him into the stands as the crowd (in the stadium and also, most likely, those watching at home) cheers.
What Michael (played by Quinton Aaron) does to that hapless defender is pretty much what Sandra Bullock does to the viewer for the entirety of The Blind Side, which is a very long time. Bullock plays Leigh Anne Tuohy, a Memphis decorator who, along with her family, rescues Michael from homelessness and sets him on a path to football stardom. The outlines of the story - and the details as recounted in Michael Lewis's book - are both interesting and inspiring. A wealthy, white Southern family adopts a poor black teenager, cultivating his athletic gifts and providing him with the comfort and safety of a happy, loving home.
And the film. mot unsurprisingly for a release from a major Hollywood studio, plays this story straight down the middle, shedding nuance and complication in favor of maximum uplift. Bullock is convincing enough as an energetic, multitasking woman of the New South, who knows her own mind and usually gets her own way. And Tim McGraw, as Leigh Anne's affable husband, Sean, inhabits his character comfortably and knows how to get out of Bullock's way when necessary.
The Tuohys have a pretty daughter named Collins (Lily Collins) and a wisecracking whirlgig of a son, SJ (Jae Head), who would, if this were an animated children's movie, be Michael's annoying-but-lovable talking-animal sidekick. And The Blind Side, written and directed by John Lee Hancock (The Rookie, The Alamo), is, in effect, a live-action, reality-based version of a Disney cartoon: it's the heartwarming tale of a foundling taken in by strangers, who accept him even though he's different and treat him as one of their own.
In a typical Disney movie, however, that process would be full of conflict, excitement and danger. The Blind Side, until the end - when an NCAA bureaucrat throws a hasty obstacle in the way of Michael's triumph - is more like a two-hour holiday greeting card. Leigh Anne and Sean first spot Michael in the school gym after one of Collins's volleyball games, and on the drive home figure out that, even though he attends this private Christian academy on scholarship, he has no place to sleep. Before you know it this impulsive act of generosity turns into a project, to which Leigh Anne devotes herself with tireless zeal.
A few of her friends raise eyebrows and make unkind remarks, but she puts them in their places with a few heartfelt, angry words and a swell of soundtrack music. She does the same to the drug dealer back in the projects where Michael used to live, and to anyone else who messes with her and her family.
All of which can be fun to watch, as are the walk-ons from real-life college coaches. And Bullock's brisk self-confidence can be appealing - until it becomes annoying. The biggest problem here is that her character never changes, never experiences a moment of doubt or guilt or selfishness, and after a while her display of goodness sinks into vanity. And Michael is a curiously blank character, his inner life lost in the glare of Leigh Anne's self-congratulation. His pre-Tuohy life is a flurry of flashbacks and vague stories meant - like that drug dealer and Michael's drug-addicted mother, who appears on screen briefly - to conjure a world of violence, dysfunction and despair.
The Blind Side is interested only in that world as an occasion for selective charity, and it is only slightly more interested in Michael's inner life. He seems shy, grateful, sometimes sad and always, to Leigh Anne, an open book. She hears that a psychological test shows Michael to have an unusually strong protective instinct, and uses that information to unlock his latent offensive-tackle abilities. The left tackle's job is to protect the quarterback from unseen opponents, and if Michael just thinks of the quarterback as his family - "as me," Leigh Anne says - he'll know just what to do with the other team. And it works, just as if the young man were a 300-pound robot she had programmed with the flip of a switch.
And the viewer at home is meant to respond in similar fashion, choking up, chuckling with warm laughter, feeling so sorry for this poor young man and so gratified that he found someone to care for him. Will you be moved? Maybe, though only in the sense that "moved" can describe the experience of a defensive player, overpowered by a blocker and left flat on his back with a possible concussion.
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