The latest directorial outing from George Clooney is pretty much a textbook example of a wholesome, middlebrow crowdpleaser. The true-life underdog story of the University of Washington’s rowing team – a ragtag band of Depression-era, lower-middle-class students who went on to win gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics – The Boys in the Boat is an unapologetically formulaic tale of triumph against the odds.
This includes a winning combination of nostalgic sepias and the excessive lens flares of sun-dappled summers past; a score that bustles officiously through the picture; and clearly signposted obstacles that the boys must overcome. Fortunately, avuncular boat builder George Pocock (Peter Guinness) is on hand to dispense grizzled wisdom, and taciturn coach Al Ulbrickson (Joel Edgerton) is willing to stake his own reputation on the boys. It’s a formula that, while it doesn’t make for a particularly daring piece of film-making, works reasonably well. The race sequences are tautly edited; the main character, Joe Rantz (British actor Callum Turner), gets a stirring backstory and a redundant, rather antiseptic romantic subplot.
What’s missing is the director himself. Clooney has become progressively less audible as a directorial voice, compared with his bracingly political earlier work: Good Night, and Good Luck’s sharp-witted homage to journalistic excellence; and The Ides of March, a story of campaign machinations with a cynical bite. Here, he settles into the role of the journeyman director, churning out a polished, excessively likable product. It’s not bad exactly, but like many film-makers, Clooney is at his most interesting when he’s not afraid to make enemies.
