Take the pressure of professional football, strip it down to its rawest form, and push it into something darker. That’s where HIM lives. Backed by Monkeypaw Productions, the studio behind some of the most talked-about horror in recent years, this isn’t your typical sports story. It plays with ambition, obsession, and the idea that greatness might come at a cost higher than anyone is willing to admit out loud.

At its core, the film leans into a simple yet sharp idea: what if chasing greatness meant giving up more than time, energy, or even your body? It’s a concept that feels familiar at first, especially in a world where athletes are pushed to their limits. But HIM takes that idea and stretches it into something far more unsettling. The line between discipline and sacrifice blurs, and before long, it’s unclear where one ends and the other begins.

That kind of premise carries expectations. When a film sets itself up this boldly, it dares you to expect something groundbreaking. That’s where things get interesting. HIM doesn’t always land cleanly, but it doesn’t play it safe either. It swings hard, leans into the chaos, and keeps pushing even as things start to unravel. It’s not polished or restrained, but that’s part of what makes it worth watching.

Imagine if the beautiful game lost its shine and decided to bare its teeth. HIM is a twisted dive into the world of pro football, where the stakes go far beyond trophies and fame. Here, you risk your sanity, your soul, and maybe even more. Monkeypaw Productions—yes, the same folks who turned everyday fears into nightmares—are behind this one, so you can forget about underdog comebacks or locker-room pep talks. Instead, the film explores ambition with claws and obsession that refuses to let go. It reminds you that greatness just might chew you up if you are not careful about what’s going on.

This film poses a tough question. How much would you really give to be the best? HIM starts out like a classic sports story, full of sweat, sacrifice, and relentless training, but then cracks that familiar mould wide open. What begins as discipline quickly curdles into obsession, and the cost of greatness becomes a debt you might not want to pay. Lines blur, reality slips, and suddenly you realize chasing glory can get downright terrifying.

With a premise this wild, HIM does more than invite expectations; it sets them. It dares you to see what happens next. Yes, it is messy, and not every risk pays off, but that is the thrill. This film does not tiptoe around big ideas. Be ready to have your teeth bared and your heart pounding from how raw it gets, because some of these stories are unforgettable, especially with a film this raw that refuses to play by the rules.

From the start, HIM makes it clear that Justin Tipping isn’t here to play it safe. There’s a reckless confidence in the film’s pacing, as if it knows exactly how far it wants to go and doesn’t care if it makes people uncomfortable. The violence isn’t hidden or toned down. It’s in your face. At times, the film almost seems to enjoy pushing that boundary to see how far it can go.

How well it works depends on your tolerance. Some viewers may find it excessive, while others will accept the intensity. Either way, the film leaves little room for interpretation. Religious imagery is overt, symbolism unmistakable, and even the team name—Saviors—makes the story’s intentions clear. There’s nothing subtle or gradual. The film grabs you immediately and demands your attention.

Beneath all this, something more authentic tries to break through. Like Get Out, the film examines how people are exploited for their abilities, especially within systems designed to benefit others. Football becomes the lens, exposing how young athletes are pushed to their limits and moulded into cogs in a larger machine. When HIM focuses on this angle, it feels incisive and honest. But subtlety doesn’t last. The film often hits its message too hard, at times prioritizing impact over letting its themes resonate.

HIM keeps coming back to one simple question—how far are you willing to go to be the best? The film explores not only the training and the grind but also everything that comes with the pursuit. There is a psychological weight to how it leans into this space. Rather than offering easy explanations, it sits with the pressure and refuses to give a clean answer. The film places you in the moment and lets it linger, uncomfortable yet impossible to ignore. Even as the story begins to lose focus, that central idea continues to hold it together.

Jordan Peele’s influence is evident in the background, especially in how the film explores larger themes, but it never follows the same path. HIM takes its own shot and embraces both its successes and its stumbles. That willingness to go for it, even when it does not always land, is part of its appeal. Imperfection is what makes it compelling, and it never chooses the safe route.

IMDb: 5.0 | Tomatometer: 31% | Popcornmeter: 56% | Average: 45.6

★★★☆☆