Center court takes center stage in Wimbledon, a romantic comedy where the romance falls flat but the action is a smash.
By JANET K. KEELER
Published September 16, 2004
[Photo: Universal Studios]
American tennis champ Lizzie Bradbury (Kirsten Dunst) and low-ranked British tennis player Peter Colt (Paul Bettany) engage in a cross-court affair in Wimbledon.
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The best sports movies put you in the middle of the action, making you feel the intensity and desire that fuel exceptional athletes. When they blow it, you wince. When they score, you blurt a victorious "yes!," and not always under your breath.
Wimbledon elicits these visceral reactions, thanks to a captivating performance by Paul Bettany (A Beautiful Mind, Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World) in his first leading-man role. As fading British tennis player Peter Colt, Bettany is self-effacing and gracious, sensitive and tenacious. He's an athlete that an audience can get behind, and does.
But what's that you say? Wimbledon is a romantic comedy, not a sports movie? Well, yes, it is funny and, yes, there is a love affair, but that is overshadowed by the riveting action on center court. When the affair is in danger of collapsing, audiences are likely to shrug their shoulders. Yeah, whatever. Forget the girl, go out there and win that match!
Peter has earned a wild-card slot in his 13th, and last, Wimbledon tournament. After the tournament, where he is sure to perform dismally, he has agreed to join a stuffy private tennis club as its pro. Peter is dreading working with sun-damaged mavens on their backhands between rounds of cocktails.
In a chance encounter, Peter meets American ace Lizzie Bradbury (Kirsten Dunst) who is playing in her first Wimbledon. Unlike Peter, she is expected to do great things. They fall into bed quicker than they fall in love, much to the chagrin of Bradbury's overprotective father, Dennis (Sam Neill).
Apparently, Dennis Bradbury knows his daughter's randy ways and how they make her serve go "mushy." Forget her serve. How about her brain?
Bettany and Dunst are a mismatch. She's not believable as an athlete, especially a world-class tennis player. For audiences who've just watched Serena Williams in her black storm-trooper boots at the U.S. Open, Dunst appears downright wimpy.
She blows all credibility when she goes on a training run wearing black, high-top Converse tennis shoes. The no-support shoes are great accessories for an alt-rock band; they are not serious athletic gear. A top-ranked tennis player would know that.
Real-life tennis players, amateur and better, likely will find lots of faults with the action. However, it helps to have American tennis legends John McEnroe and Chris Evert doing the play-by-play and pointing out that Peter should count his lucky stars that he's advancing. They provide the knowing wink to naysayers.
Screenwriters Adam Brooks, Jennifer Flackett and Mark Levin do a disservice to Dunst by not developing Lizzie more fully. It's unclear to the story why she even needs to be a tennis player, and that's not a good thing. If Peter needs a woman to bolster his confidence, why not make her more of an equal, rather than a giggly young thing who is equal parts smart aleck and petulant brat. Of course she comes around, but by then, who cares?
Wimbledon is at its best when the guys are on screen, either playing tennis or having manly heart-to-hearts. Nutty Jon Favreau (Something's Gotta Give, Elf) is fun as a smarmy agent, a favorite Hollywood target. And hopefully we will see more of Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (Black Hawk Down), who plays Peter's friend and tennis partner, Dieter Proll. Coster-Waldau makes the most of his short screen time with smooth aplomb.
Director Richard Loncraine (TV's award-winning The Gathering Storm and My House in Umbria) brings the spectacle of Wimbledon to life admirably including the Brits' burning desire to have a hometown winner. Played against the backdrop of a glittering London, the dowdy seaside town of Brighton and the courts of Wimbledon, this movie looks good.
In the end, there's too much tidy Notting Hill and not enough inspirational Chariots of Fire. Still, you'll root for the underdog and find this movie a fun little trifle for a Saturday night date.
