Wimbledon Review

by David N. Butterworth (dnb AT dca DOT net)
October 11th, 2004

WIMBLEDON
A film review by David N. Butterworth
Copyright 2004 David N. Butterworth

** (out of ****)

    "Love means nothing in tennis. Zero. It means you lose."

    The plays on words--as well as those on center court--loom large in "Wimbledon,"
a sprightly and sporty romantic comedy starring Paul Bettany ("Master and Commander:
The Far Side of the World") and Kirsten Dunst ("Spider-Man 2"). If you're hoping
to see Dunst, dressed in her prim and proper tennis whites, serve, lob, and volley her way through the picture you'll be disappointed, since there's very little footage of her actually doing that for some reason. The focus is on Bettany's Peter Colt, once ranked 11th in the world, now 119th, and giving the famous British tennis tournament one last shot before downsizing to tennis pro at a snooty racquet club catering to old ladies, with Dunst the hotshot Yank Lizzie Bradbury who catches his eye. Bettany, who seems to have mastered and commandeered the sport, gamely gives it his all both on and off the court but the film is as predictable as a McEnroe outburst (he and Chris Evert Lloyd in the commentary box make Donald Trump look like an Oscar® winner). Sam Neill ("Jurassic Park III") is on hand as Dunst's father/trainer who doesn't take too kindly to Peter's "distraction," Bernard Hill and Eleanor Bron are Peter's embattled parents, who manage to get their act together for the no-brainer finale,
and James McAvoy plays Peter's slacker brother Carl, who's always betting against
his sib down at the local Ladbrokes. Still, the tennis sequences are crisply shot and often exhilarating and it's nice to see the freckled Bettany capable of handling fluff as adeptly as he wrestles von Trier. As directed by Richard Loncraine, however, "Wimbledon" never really gels, with trite talk and chalky situations and very little chemistry between our otherwise attractive leads.

    Love, it would seem, means never having to say I saw you naked in the shower.

--
David N. Butterworth
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