Smith anchors worthy ‘Concussion’
Print Edition
ONE of the most impactful scenes in “Concussion” is a wordless one: Just a few seconds, really, of a high school football team going through its drills.
We don’t know who these young, determined, helmeted kids are, but the message is sobering, especially if you’re a parent: Concussion-related brain damage from football is not merely a threat to the professionals featured in the film, but to football-playing kids, too.
And that’s a strong argument for any football lover to see this film, which is anchored by a sensitive, understated performance by Will Smith as the real-life forensic pathologist who earned the NFL’s animosity for shining a torch on the problem.
The film, directed and written by Peter Landesman, may suffer from an overly simplistic, sometimes sermonizing script that could have used some sharp editing. But it’s to be admired for bringing a truly important issue to the big screen.
We first get to know Dr Bennet Omalu, a Nigerian immigrant, in the autopsy room, where he has the strange habit of speaking to the corpses he’s cutting into, asking them questions. He wants their help, in deducing how they died. This approach endears him to some colleagues while antagonizing others.
One day, a beloved former Steeler ends up on Omalu’s table: Mike Webster — “Iron Mike” — who died at only 50 after his last years were plagued by dementia. Omalu wonders why a high-level athlete would experience such a rapid deterioration. Ignoring colleagues’ pleas to leave the case alone, Omalu orders testing of Webster’s brain.
What he discovers is shocking: Webster’s brain has been ravaged, a result of repeated blows over his long career — some 70,000 hits, Omalu estimates. He co-authors an article in a medical journal outlining his findings that Webster and others like him suffer from CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy). He thinks the NFL will be glad to know, so it can better help its athletes.
Well, he’s wrong. Rather than welcome Omalu’s findings, the league and its representatives seek to discredit him.
Much of the credit here goes to Smith: He masters Omalu’s Nigerian accent in a convincing, unshowy manner.
As Omalu’s future wife, the gorgeous Gugu Mbatha-Raw is touching but underused — and saddled with more heavy-handed lines than she deserves.
It is she, though, who points out a deep truth to Omalu that he hasn’t yet seen: Football, she tells him, is a beautiful game. Indeed it is. But it also has a dark, troubling side which many have been loath to acknowledge, and that’s a simple reason that “Concussion” is a worthy enterprise indeed.
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