Show me the money!

Rating: 7/10 (17 February 2017)

Jerry Maguire is what happens after the kid in Risky Business grows up. The beginnings have the same glimpses of sharp wit, comic satire and endless ambition that gave the latter its humorous bite. Tom Cruise is the fast-talking hotshot, a one man Wallstreet of sports representation with a vice-grip over his domain: he scouts young stars early, adds them to his collection, and rakes in the cash when they hit the big time. His job is to know everything about these clients - their ambitions, their strengths, their prickly personalities - but at the same time his voice-over treats them like impersonal investments, with the highly-touted number one pick in the next draft as the biggest catch of them all. Only when his conscience hits a brick wall does he come to re-evaluate how he wants the world to see him, and how brutal this cut-throat business really is.
So Jerry Maguire is really a romance, but not between Jerry and his designated love interest (the 'nerdy' girl who has always been shyly hiding behind her desk while he dates supermodels), but between him and his last client. Yes, these two men put on emotional facades of stoic, unmovable strength and attitude, but all they really need is a hug. That final sequence, where Rod parts the sea of cameras and reporters to intimately embrace Jerry, who's been hovering around nervously in the background? That's from Manhattan, from Notting Hill, from every single romantic comedy that ends with the guy/girl running after the guy/girl and sealing the deal with a dramatic declaration of love. How sweet.
Cameron Crowe has never bettered his debut, Say Anything, which had more nuance and understanding than most films in the genre. In Jerry Maguire, the annoying add-ons come in the form of Dorothy Boyd, the woman destined to bring Jerry to his heels, to humble him, and to finally complete his redemption from selfish egomaniac. As if Crowe is afraid that audiences might not get what he is trying to say, Dorothy is also a poor, single, struggling mom - in fact one of the first signs of Jerry's renewal is his growing potential as a father to Raymond. Ray is not just cute, he's cuteness overload, with oversized glasses and a head of messy blonde hair. He's not playing a little boy but a cuddly teddy bear designed to assault our sympathies, to coax Jerry into the suburban dream. What kind of monster would deny Jonathan Lipnicki?
Opposing Zellweger's damsel in distress is Avery, the poster-girl for the vanity of the high life. Both are just as shallow in personality, but Preston goes into comic overboard and finds hilarity in her best impression of a success barnacle. Watch how the break-up scene unfurls: it's a high speed walk and talk, her furiously setting up tables for work, and him tentatively trying to slide the bad news underneath. When it's revealed that he's the one doing the dumping, Preston attacks it like a challenge; success is not just a goal but a state of mind, and she's never faced an obstacle she can't climb. When Jerry shows signs of giving up and displaying a defeatist attitude, she takes him down right there and then. Later as they cross paths her finger and thumb are in the shape of a big L for LOSER. The people in this business rarely come out and show their intentions like this - she's just being upfront about it, like a peacock strutting its plumage. Preston brings some much needed levity when the film gets a little tired and bogged down in cliché. It's satire, but only just.
And then there is Regina King as Marcee Tidwell, who is much more than just a negotiator on behalf of Rod. She is his wife, and of course wants a big, fat contract for her husband, but watch how King acts as a foil for Jerry. He's infuriated by the tiny contract offers for his client, exasperated that all his dealing and hand-shaking and smiling has been for naught (his monetary gain diminishes too). But she feels the disrespect for her Rod, and how the teams have denied his talent. In the heart-stopping climax, Rod lays unconscious and every character's real feelings and motivations emerge. If the whole thing is overly cheesy and melodramatic, Marcee reigns it back with perspective. Her moment is personal, and all the dollar signs have vanished. The plea in her eyes is a million times more meaningful than any "You had me at hello".