How to be Him

When people think of horror, they tend to think of the typical ‘go-tos’: Halloween, Scream, or The Conjuring, to name a few. Maybe you’re one of the select few that think of more new-age, controversial, soon-to-be cult classics like Art the Clown’s creative brutality in Terrifier.

If you’re looking for a psychological horror that pushes the boundaries and our cultural buttons that shines an unflattering light on what it means to be a professional athlete in today’s day and age, look no further than Jordan Peele’s new film Him.

Julia Fox was a force, and Marlon Wayans showed a level of depth I’ve yet to see from the comedy actor. Tyriq Withers is relatively new to the acting scene, but after this performance, he’s clearly here to stay.

Him (2025), dir. Jordan Peele

Cinematography: 10/10

Storyline: 8.5/10

Cast: 9.5/10

Pacing: 9/10

Soundtrack: 8/10

Ending: 7.5/10

Spoilers ahead:

At its core, Him is less about football and more about the machine that chews people up and spits them out in the name of greatness. Cameron Cade (Tyriq Withers) is introduced as the golden boy of the college football league—the kind of player sports networks build entire highlight reels around. He’s got the talent, the face, the resume. But after what should have been a career-ending head injury, he’s given his shot at redemption. His idol, Isaiah White, on the brink of retirement, invites Cade to train at his week-long camp—and the young star finally has the chance to prove he’s “the GOAT.”

White has it all: money, fame, and endorsement deals that make him the face of “grind culture.” But beneath the surface, there’s rot. His body is breaking down, and his mental state is fracturing under the bloodthirsty need to be the best, no matter the sacrifice.

As his father’s voice echoes through locker room monologues and sleepless nights, Cade grapples with the dichotomy between who he promised he would be and the man he wants to be.

*Tyriq Withers and Julia Fox as Cameron Cade and Elsie White*

And Peele (in classic Peele fashion) twists that drive into something monstrous. Something punishing. White’s mansion and training camp becomes a literal house of mirrors, allowing Cade to confront the reflection of what his future would look like in this world running on the fumes of brand deals, money, sex, and power.

Julia Fox’s character, Elsie White—Isaiah’s wife turned handler—drips manipulation with every word. Her smile is wide, her eyes hollow. She sold his soul to the brand, one press conference at a time, and she’s set her sights on Cade. Underneath her siren call promising the top step, the parties, the sex—she owns you. Everything you are, and everything you will never be.

By the midpoint, it’s clear this isn’t a sports movie at all—it’s a slow, stomach-turning descent into the myth of the GOAT. What does it mean to be great at all costs? How do you navigate when success becomes sacrifice? When glory is pain? The climax of the film is when Cam sees his future, what happens when you finally become the thing everyone said you should be, only to realize there’s nothing of substance left underneath.

He’s ultimately given a choice: succumb to this idea of greatness or walk away from everything he spent his life working towards.

Cade is a man on the cusp of forgetting who he was in search for glory and an age-old promise sons make to their fathers to make them proud. In the end, the entire theatre collectively gasped when after everything he endured in the name of his own success and greatness, he turned his back on everything he had worked for, bled for.

Nearly died for.

Oh—and then he killed everyone for it.

It was glorious. It was the first time the film was shown in a bright light, rather than dull, darker tones. It was Cade choosing himself, his family, and his future as a human being, rather than becoming a football star chained to an ‘all or nothing’ mentality.

And that’s the question Peele leaves us with: what are you willing to sacrifice—for greatness, for love, for legacy? And when does sacrifice go from being a noble and romantic notion to becoming your very own personal Hell?

Sure, he turned into a killer. But maybe that’s the point. Perhaps Him isn’t asking us to condone it—it’s asking whether we, the audience, ever gave Cade a different choice. How many times have we watched athletes fall apart under pressure, only to call it “the price of greatness”? How many times have we looked away until it’s too late? Peele takes that agonizing realization and forces us to reckon with the idea that maybe we’re the monster and have been all along.

It’s a brilliant piece in the social-horror puzzle that not only identifies villains on-screen, but also in ourselves—the audience.

This film and its characters delivered more raw bite than I’ve seen at a theatre in years. And there was a twisted sense of utterly human pride watching Cade bring justice to the system that attempted to hold him hostage. It was uncomfortable at times (and extraordinarily gory to say the least), but when is sacrifice not?

The finale, in truth, felt like an achievement—a trophy to take home of your very own.

The question is: are you ready for that trophy to grace your case? And more importantly—what are you willing to sacrifice to get it?

I’ll leave you to decide for yourself.