Even Jharrel Jerome’s Performance Can’t Help Unstoppable Keep its Balance

It’s difficult to imagine a more tailor-made story for an inspirational sports drama than that of Anthony Robles. Born with a congenitally amputated leg, Robles trained to make the rest of him that much stronger in compensation, becoming a champion high school wrestler who eventually ascended to competing against the best athletes in the country as an NCAA Division I wrestling champion in college. The sheer grit, determination and perseverance necessary to do this while overcoming a tremendous physical disadvantage makes for a biopic that one would think more or less writes itself. So why does Unstoppable, the directorial debut of longtime veteran film editor William Goldenberg, have such a difficult time telling that relatively simple story with clarity and satisfying character growth? Even though it’s blessed with a magnetic leading performance by Jharrel Jerome as Robles, Unstoppable (arriving on Amazon Prime Video this week) can’t help but feel thin and insubstantial in its attempts to bring the inspirational arc of his story to life.

We would have expected more from Goldenberg after decades of work with high-profile filmmakers, from Michael Mann (Heat, Miami Vice) or Kathryn Bigelow (Zero Dark Thirty) to Paul Greengrass (News of the World) or Ben Affleck (Argo). He won an Oscar for editing the latter and has been nominated in the category four other times, making it all the more surprising that Unstoppable often feels staccato and slipshod; lacking in detail despite a two hour runtime. Robles, we can understand, but the world and people around him are like cardboard stand-ins for the real thing.

None of this is the fault of Jharrel Jerome, who gives an appealing performance as a young man sensitive about the threat of being recognized primarily for his disability. Robles is driven by the need to prove to everyone that he’s good enough, and Jerome channels that borderline unhealthy level of intensity and determination, while hinting at the insecurities beneath. Anthony refuses to accept that perhaps not every activity or challenge is equally rational for every person to choose to engage in, which can make him read as stubborn or obstinate, but he does demonstrate growth as well, particularly as a member of a family unit living under the contrasting dynamic of supportive mother Judy (Jennifer Lopez) and aggrieved, insecure father Rick (a solid Bobby Cannavale). Unstoppable is actually best when diving into these familial dynamics, bringing real tension to the screen via prison guard Rick’s slowly emerging resentment and simmering hostility, a product of his own obvious insecurities as provider (but not Anthony’s biological father). As Rick’s pragmatic advice goes from paternalistic to steadily more abusive, Anthony must increasingly take on the role of the parentified child with his mother and younger siblings, driving part of his decision to turn down a full ride scholarship to Drexel University and instead walk on to the Arizona State University wrestling squad, with no guarantee of an opportunity to prove himself. Throughout it all, Jerome ably handles Robles’ conflicting emotions–acquired expressions of masculinity, competitive drive, caregiver instincts, and subtle resentment of not just one but both parental figures for the burden he’s increasingly made to shoulder.

Jerome is let down, however, by a screenplay that doesn’t bother to ask any of the other questions that would probe into Robles’ hopes, dreams or ambitions. What does he want out of life, beyond athletic competition? What the hell is he even studying in school? Has he ever had a girlfriend, or is he some kind of ascetic, grappling monk? Fun fact: As far as I can tell, there’s not a single scene in Unstoppable that involves Jerome having an actual conversation with a female person who is not his mother. This all leaves wrestling as his one and only all-consuming interest or goal, which makes the character read as less three-dimensional and real than he should, especially when none of the film’s other characters ever suggest that maybe there’s life beyond wrestling.