P.S. I Love Movies: “Jerry Maguire”
Jerry Maguire remains a genre defying, game-winning achievement that will have sports fans and romantics alike at “hello.”
Rom-coms have for a long time been labelled — insultingly — ”chick flicks.” I call this term insulting because it is sexist and offensive, something society has evolved out of. But it’s also inaccurate. For example, I — a male — love rom-coms. Can’t get enough. More importantly, though, there’s this little proof point: the existence of rom-coms like Jerry Maguire.
The 1996 box office smash hit from writer/director Cameron Crowe flipped the romantic comedy world upside down. Jerry Maguire stars a pre Oprah’s-couch Tom Cruise, a promising up-and-comer Renée Zellweger, and a not-yet-cancelled Cuba Gooding Jr. The cast is absolutely stacked — Jerry O’Connell, Jay Mohr, Kelly Preston, Regina King, Bonnie Hunt, Jonathan Lipnicki (Macaulay Culkin wishes he could be this adorable), a pre-MADtv Aries Spears, and even a young Drake Bell makes a very short cameo to drop an F-bomb. All of them play vital roles in this 138-minute epic. And no, that is not a typo — this movie is longer than Star Wars, The Terminator, and A Clockwork Orange, just to name a few. But don’t let the time commitment scare you away — Jerry Maguire is an investment that returns “Arizona dollars.”
Jerry Maguire, the film’s titular character, is a successful sports agent who seemingly has it all. Big time clients, a beautiful fiancé, played by Kelly Preston, and the admiration of his peers — or so he thinks. What he does not have is a conscience, and he knows it. Now, this does not imply the man is an asshole — at least not entirely. Jerry has an epiphany of sorts while visiting a client, a hockey player, in the hospital after an injury. The client’s pre-teen son asks him, “This is his fourth concussion. Shouldn’t somebody get him to stop?” Jerry laughs this off and assures him that his dad will be back out on the ice in no time. “Fuck you” says the young Drake Bell, suggesting to Jerry that he has become “another shark in a suit.” This he can not brush off.
But don’t let the time commitment scare you away — Jerry Maguire is an investment that returns “Arizona dollars.”
Vowing to change for the better, he writes a lengthy mission statement suggesting that agencies should size down and work with fewer clients in order to form more personal and attentive relationships. Without fully contemplating the consequences of this noble deed, he sends copies out to everyone in the company. Basic human decency may seem like a no brainer to most, but these are agents we’re talking about; genuine personal relationships do not help the bottom line. Jerry is fired and his protégé, Bob Sugar, played by Jay Mohr, is the one to gleefully deliver the news.
In a wonderfully edited scene, Jerry scrambles, calling every client in his little black book and begging them to stay with him instead of the agency. Obviously, this does not go well for him, but he does find a few reasons for hope. It arrives first in Dorothy Boyd, the glowing Renée Zellweger, who is so impressed with the principles on display in Jerry’s mission statement that she agrees to leave her job and form a new agency with him.
Hope comes next by way of Rod Tidwell. Cuba Gooding Jr. — in what is arguably his magnum opus — plays an underpaid and under-appreciated wide receiver for the Arizona Cardinals. In one of the most iconic phone conversations in the history of film, Jerry begs Rod to stay with him while Rod complains about his legacy and the money he deserves. “I’m from Arizona, Jerry! I broke Arizona records! I went to Arizona State! I’m a Sun Devil, man!” It’s a miraculous rant filled with exposition so well written you don’t even realize it’s there. (Full disclosure: I went to Arizona State and am also a Sun Devil, man, so I’m admittedly a bit biased.) Jerry pleads with Rod — “I love black people!” — and once Jerry agrees with Rod’s demands to “show me the money!”, Rod agrees to stick around because, as he says, “I like you, Jerry. My wife likes you. You’re good to my wife.” This is just a small preview of how much Rod loves and values his family. Something Jerry knows nothing about. (Yet!)
After a few additional mishaps, Jerry sets forth with his broke, one-client, one-employee agency. That employee, Dorothy, devotes herself fully to Jerry, and the two begin to kindle what looks like it could be a promising romance. Jerry likewise bonds with Dorothy’s young son, Ray, played by adorable four-eyed child actor Jonathan Lipnicki, who looks up to Jerry as a father figure. Dorothy’s sister is understandably worried and expresses her concern to Dorothy who, again, defends him.
After an argument with his fiancé, Jerry dumps her and she reacts reasonably by punching him in the face — on the job. Domestic violence played for laughs is something we can certainly leave in the 1990’s. Of course, Jerry does what any insecure man would do — drinks himself under the table, visits Dorothy — his subordinate — late at night and threatens the future of his company by going in for it like a largemouth bass. She turns him down.
From there, as most know, Jerry begins to fight more earnestly for his redemption, which, if you haven’t watched this film yet in the 24 years since its release, I don’t want to spoil for you, because it’s fantastic. I’m even tempted to call it transcendent.
For the most fascinating aspect of this movie is that it turns out to be so much more than a rom-com. And that might be the biggest reason it’s so great and holds up so well. Among other things, it’s a compelling sports drama infused with a budding bromance topped off with a tear jerking love story. It also challenges gender stereotypes and forced Hollywood to reconsider just what rom-coms could be — and who exactly they’re for.
I’m even tempted to call it transcendent.
And let’s not forget that this film gave the world some of the most quintessential rom-com moments in history. Everyone in the first world can quote “You had me at hello,” and even The Dark Knight’s Joker is familiar with the line “You…complete me.” (Think about that — the Joker sat down one lazy night in Gotham City and watched Jerry Maguire. If it can pull at those heart strings then trust me you have no chance.)
This is a movie that transcends genre and antiquated gender stereotypes. While it isn’t a movie for kids, everyone in your home will find something to appreciate here.
There’s also some philosophy to chew on. With Jerry Maguire, Cameron Crowe asks the audience some tough questions — when does loyalty become codependency? Can independence transform into stubbornness? And if so, what else other than love can soften that? The film’s core message — the wavering “love” from many can’t compare to the unconditional love from a few — is incredibly timely in a world filled with posts, likes, and blogs. Jerry has a business mission statement but he does not have a personal one. If personal principles exist simply to impress others, then what are they good for? Good people are good people even when others aren’t there to witness it. But good people are never done growing — there is no finish line. (But there are checkpoints; like Dorothy tells her sister, “I love him for the man he wants to be and I love him for the man he almost is.”)
Finally, it pleases me to say that this is not a white savior film. Jerry does not save Rod; Rod saves Jerry. Rod, slight ego aside, is an absolutely wonderful role model. Dedicated family man, firm in his ideals, and not about the bullshit — he has a vision and he executes it. Despite his lust for a Reebok sponsorship, Rod Tidwell attacks life with a “Just Do It” mentality. “You mad you tested positive? Quit doing blow. You upset about your baby girl? Why’d you leave the mother?” He lives with passion, a passion that rivals Jerry’s, but is focused in a much more positive direction. “That’s the difference between us. You think we’re fighting and I think we’re finally talking!” Preach, Rod. I relate too well.
This should be clear by now, but Jerry Maguire is a game-winning touchdown, a slam dunk, a gold medal, a home run, whatever sport analogy you please. In our terms here at P.S. I Love Movies, this is an easy 5 out of 5. I do not hesitate one bit when I say that this movie is in the running for one of the best rom-coms of all time.
But — again — keep in mind, “I’m a Sun Devil, man!”
