Mark Reviews Movies

Space Jam: A New Legacy

SPACE JAM: A NEW LEGACY

2 Stars (out of 4)

Director: Malcolm D. Lee

Cast: LeBron James, Don Cheadle, Cedric Joe, Khris Davis, Sonequa Martin-Green, Ceyair J. Wright, Harper Leigh Alexander, Xosha Roquemore, Stephen Kankole, Jalyn Hall, Wood Harris, Sue Bird, Anthony Davis, Draymond Green, Damian Lillard, Klay Thompson, Nneka Ogwumike, Diana Taurasi, Ernie Johnson, Lel Rel Howery, Michael B. Jordan, the voices of Jeff Bergman, Eric Bauza, Zendaya, Candi Milo, Bob Bergen, Gabriel Iglesias, Fred Tatasciore, Rosario Dawson

MPAA Rating: PG (for some cartoon violence and some language)

Running Time: 1:55

Release Date: 7/16/21 (wide; HBO Max)


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Review by Mark Dujsik | July 16, 2021

The original Space Jam was a product of its time and of, well, product (Lest one forgets, the film originated from shoe commercials). Even so, the 1996 comedy had a good sense of humor about itself, utilized the Looney Tunes in a way that fundamentally understood their loony and cartoony natures, and possessed a star athlete, in the person of the one and only Michael Jordan, who was a good sport about satirizing his fame—not to mention his, at the time, recent and most peculiar career choice.

The same, alas, cannot be said of Space Jam: A New Legacy. It begins with some winking and nodding at its corporate-minded origin, with a bit of the old-fashioned loony and cartoony antics, and with some playful prodding at its own athlete star's career choices. By the time the climactic basketball game arrives, though, that early goodwill disappears.

The star this time around is LeBron James, who isn't leading-man material, although neither was Jordan and at least James sets up those low expectations early with a throwaway line about the usually bad results when an athlete turns to acting. James plays a pretty straightforward and clear-cut version of himself, obviously—the star of a few professional teams (His movement around the league becomes a bit of a running joke, leading a character to observe that Los Angeles had better be prepared) and an avid professional.

Basketball is serious business for LeBron, and that has caused a bit of conflict within his family. It's not for the obvious reasons of being absent for practice and games, though. LeBron is pushing his two sons to be the best they can be at the sport, but his younger son Dom (Cedric Joe) would rather play and design video games. Dad doesn't understand that passion, and the son kind of resents being pushed in a direction he doesn't want to go.

That's a fairly decent rationale for the plot that's about to unfold, although the story itself, written by a team of no fewer than six screenwriters, is pretty much the same formula as the first film, only with a more modern, technology-based twist. Over at Warner Bros. studios, an algorithm, meant to amalgamate all of the studio's content and sell it to the public (or something like that), has gained sentience, calling itself Al G. Rhythm (Don Cheadle). Al's plan is to recruit LeBron—and, more importantly, all of the star player's social media followers—to sell the newfangled platform.

LeBron passes. Al takes it as personally as a computer can and abducts both the basketballer and Dom, transporting them into the realm of the Serververse, where all of the Warner Bros.-owned intellectual properties exist on various planets. Challenging LeBron to a basketball game for his and his son's freedom, Al sends the star to the world of the Looney Tunes, where LeBron has to assemble a team.

As for the rest of this, it's, well, mostly the same as the previous film, although there are some bright spots and, later, a long stretch of dimmer ones. LeBron, in animated form, and Bugs Bunny (voice of Jeff Bergman) have to retrieve all of the Tunes from various other worlds in the Warner Bros. universe. This means seeing some famous cartoon characters inserted into other movies—most amusingly, watching Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner chase in a post-apocalyptic desert and seeing a different Sam playing piano at Rick's Café Américain.

The re-assembled Tunes want to play ball their way ("Shoot the ball" takes on a completely different meaning in cartoon vernacular). LeBron insists they focus on fundamentals. Meanwhile, Al manipulates Dom to use his video game to create a Goon Squad, made up of the digitized versions of other famous basketballers transformed into monsters.

The payoff to all of this somewhat-promising early comedy, world-building, and plotting is an extended and pretty dreary no-holds-barred game of basketball. The backdrop, a drab and dimly lit court, is more grim than anything else. The massive collection of recognizable and obscure characters from the pantheon of Warner Bros. movies and TV shows in the audience is a useless distraction of corporate self-promotion.

The gloomy look of the lengthy climax definitely covers up the uninspired and waxy transformation of the Tunes into computer-generated versions of themselves. That transformation, by the way, is fundamentally flawed in terms of the aesthetics and spirit of these characters, but the results—limiting what the Tunes are capable of doing for a gag (anything they want)—are at least sadly apparent on the screen. The cleverest gag has nothing to do with the Tunes, but a cameo from a name that's a callback to the first film—just not the right person.

Space Jam: A New Legacy holds some early promise, but it doesn't last. The sequel becomes a warped, inverted version of itself—a satire that ultimately embraces all of the things it had been mocking. There's nothing funny or charming or particularly silly in that.

Copyright © 2021 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved.

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