Leatherheads

A good-natured throwback to the days of screwball comedy, the movie is at its best away from the playing field.

Football, they say, is a game of inches, and so can be moviemaking, and Leatherheads is a completely charming film that comes a few inches from being a great one.

It's a football movie released two months after football season ended, a romantic triangle that remains gently chaste, a sports-themed story that doesn't end with a big game.

George Clooney's Leatherheads goes into overtime for no good reason, and the only high-wattage star in the lineup is Clooney himself, but man, he knows how to play.

Admittedly, the whole thing runs out of steam about two-thirds of the way through. But it helps that there's a very likable cast.

George Clooney’s Leatherheads is a smart, funny, stylish comedy with an ingenious premise and perfect execution. Who says they don’t make ‘em like they used to?

After seeing Leatherheads, it’s easy to develop a little hate for George Clooney. The guy is wealthy, talented, a threat to marriages the world over and, to top it all off, he makes even mediocre movies interesting.

While the individual elements are breezily charming and often funny, the film never quite comes together into a seamless piece.

It's all improbable, and the outcome predictable, but in the best and most delightful tradition of old comedies like His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby and Holiday.

The last half-hour is a mess, flailing about literally in the mud, looking for a concise and fitting way to end. What should take 10 minutes takes 30, and it is unsatisfying.

He belongs to two churches -- film and football -- and George Clooney worships at both in Leatherheads, a scrappy debate on the rules we live by disguised as a screwball comedy.

Leatherheads has its charms -- most of them Clooney's, as he again embodies the definition of manliness: The guy other guys want to be, and women want to be with.

For about the first hour, Leatherheads is as fizzy and fun as an old movie fan could hope for, but things get gummed up in the second half.

More amiable than witty and relying heavily on the likability and charm of its lead actors, Leatherheads scores more points as a retro romantic comedy than a football saga.

No director-star in movies has a better gut understanding of the Great American Circus and the lost glamour of masculine heroism than George Clooney.

George Clooney plays an over-the-hill football stalwart from the 1920s in Leatherheads, but there's nothing over the hill about his screen presence.

Unfortunately, Clooney never seems to commit completely to the classic screwball tone he seems to want, veering wildly from farcical to earnest.

A film almost satisfyingly filled with small amusements, Leatherheads gets its biggest laugh out of the way early on.

Make no mistake, George Clooney, who directs and leads the cast, has made a fun screwball comedy. I only wish it were a little screwier.

While evoking films of the past, Leatherheads actually attempts more than those bygone movies. It achieves much of it, but a less ambitious picture might have been more satisfying.

George Clooney the director seems to lack the touch that might have set the proceedings on fire as a zany ensemble comedy.

The film moves slowly and steadily, but it's never exactly dull, just mild.

You'll either get Leatherheads or you won't. Even if you do get it, you might wish it had a bit more pop to its dialogue, a bit more pep to its story.

Leatherheads goes on a good 20 minutes too long and there's very little in it that makes a lasting impression.

The film juggles so many differently sized balls in the air that it is difficult to tell precisely what Leatherheads is.

George Clooney is trying for an homage to classics such as His Girl Friday, but he often fumbles the necessary breathless pace in a film that ideally would have been something like 20 minutes shorter.

Even if it ultimately fails to score a touchdown, Leatherheads is pleasant and enjoyable.

George Clooney's Leatherheads is a larky throwback to the breakneck screwballs of Frank Capra and Preston Sturges. Problem is, it isn't breakneck enough.

George Clooney proves, again, that he can switch from acting to directing full time, should he ever want to.

Leatherheads is an entertaining romantic comedy, but it tends to stray off the path.

Leatherheads isn't poorly made, but it's easy, hang-back material from a director who's already proven himself up for a challenge, and that's hard to accept.

Leatherheads doesn't just run out of gas; it comes close to deflating at times.

Leatherheads gets by, just barely, on pure charm; it fades away almost instantly, leaving only a vague memory of cloche hats and soft yellow light.

Drawing from movies rather than life, Leatherheads often feels like a likable exercise in retro style rather than a film with a compelling reason to exist on its own.

Leatherheads is light on its feet. Amid the politics and love triangles, the movie feels like an old screwball comedy.

While Clooney is always an enjoyable screen presence, his film is leaden at times, and rarely as clever and funny as you want it to be.

Leatherheads comes practically gift-wrapped in goodwill -- it’s a celebration of an American pastime (if not the American pastime) and a loving nod to the screwballs of yore.

Leatherheads lacks purpose and drive, though the fact that Clooney throws in a brawl or a chase whenever things get too slow suggests he’s got the instincts of an old showman.

Towards halftime Leatherheads stops being about humor and romance and rapid-fire banter and football and, well, anything.

Director Clooney doesn't have the knack for this sort of snappy free-for-all, the zippy comedies exemplified by the classics His Girl Friday, Ball of Fire and the like.

A little more romance and livelier pacing would have done wonders.

Leatherheads, I am sorry to relate, is more like Dunderheads.

The dialogue drags no matter how fast Clooney and Zellweger rattle off their he-said-she-said lines in a studious imitation of Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell.

If nothing else, Leatherheads answers the question: Can George Clooney do no wrong? Yes, evidently.

With Leatherheads, Clooney can't quite decide what he wants to make. A retro screwball comedy? A romance? A rough-and-tumble underdogs farce? A parable about how we invent our heroes?

Tragically, Leatherheads is just OK, though the film may well find an audience among those eager for a little diversion, what with the nostalgia factor and the George Clooney factor.

Leatherheads surprisingly devotes more time to romantic comedy than to the depiction of gridiron culture.

Leatherheads isn't exactly smug, but it's too pleased with itself to bother pleasing the audience. Aside from a few faint chuckles, it's a fumble.

George Clooney may simply have stretched himself too thin, by serving as both director and his own leading man.

Leatherheads is not that good a movie, and yet it would be hard to enjoy saying anything nasty about it.

It's not quite as good as it needs to be, or thinks it is.

A weak throwback to the screwball comedies of the '30s and '40s.

Director and star George Clooney's game attempt to capture the high-spirited silliness of classic screwball comedies falls flat, in large part because Duncan Brantley and Rick Reilly's screenplay lacks sparkle.

After his spot-on salute to yesteryear journalism in Good Night, and Good Luck, Clooney attempts to sketch the birth/demise of another American institution, but ends up punting.

Renee Zellweger's performance is painful. Watching her in this role makes it all but impossible to recall that this actress has won an Oscar (for Chicago) and been nominated for two others.

Despite some wonderful elements and the occasional laugh, George Clooney's third feature as director fails to capture the spirit of screwball comedy.

What the movie makes up for with heart it lacks in execution, oftentimes resorting to slapstick comedy rather than real laughs drawn at the expense of a strong script.

It looks like a movie that's funny and clever without actually being a movie that's funny or clever.

His obvious love for old Hollywood genres notwithstanding, Clooney fails this time to find a heart or even an overarching joke amid the vintage roadsters and leather helmets.

At long last, George Clooney can stop apologizing for Batman & Robin and start apologizing for a new movie entirely.