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.
Case in point: After failing in the national championship match as a junior, Anthony redoubles his efforts. In a conversation with his mentor and high school coach (Michael Peña) about why second place isn’t good enough, Anthony stresses that if he doesn’t win, no one will ever believe he can be more than his disability. “I’m running out of time to be someone,” he says. In response, his coach simply nods, rather than replying with what you, I, or surely anyone else SHOULD say in that moment: “You are already someone of value.” Because let’s face the facts, folks: Not everyone can win, through no fault of their own. You can want it more than anyone else in the world, and still fail. This being an inspirational sports drama, you can probably guess if Anthony eventually succeeds or not, but Unstoppable never makes him grapple with the reality of accepting failure, as all humans must. His fear is a perfectly reasonable one–that he won’t have value if he doesn’t succeed–but the film doesn’t bother teaching him that life could still have meaning even if he isn’t the best. Everyone simply enables Anthony’s tunnel vision, which unintentionally reinforces the “winning is everything” messaging.
This is primarily because there simply aren’t enough supporting characters of value or depth in Unstoppable. His coaches (obvious adoptive father figures) come closest, but the likes of Don Cheadles’ ASU wrestling coach speak mostly in parable rather than wanting to really get into concrete reality with Anthony. His teammates are nameless; he seems to have zero friends his or social life; his siblings are too young to genuinely commiserate, and he has only a single scene with one of his younger brothers demonstrating a little tenderness. The other half of the dramatic equation is meant to be held up by mother Judy, but she comes across largely as ineffectual and easily pressured by her domineering husband, right up to the moment when Anthony more or less solves the problem for her. Jennifer Lopez is repressing her natural star power and wattage for the performance, but she deserved better than the portrayal as a universally supportive mom whose big arc involves learning the basics of personal finance for herself once her husband is out of the picture. A scene where she marches into her bank’s office and states that her loan is “predatory,” only to be met by the loan agent blubbering and instantly admitting his company’s own wrongdoing, is simplistic to the point of embarrassment. Ditto the occasionally disruptive, late 2000s needle drops, an unnecessary device to evoke a time period that is in no way important to the narrative.
Unstoppable aspires in every sense to be an old-fashioned, Disney-style inspirational sports flick, and it does come alive in fits and spurts in its wrestling sequences–which featured the actual Robles standing in as a body double for Jerome–despite never bothering to attempt to educate its audience on even the most basic elements of wrestling rules. No matter; that kind of thing can mostly be inferred, and there’s an appreciably gutsy energy to all the hard-scrabble grappling, huffing, puffing and wrenching at each other’s bodies as two of the young men engage in mock gladiatorial combat. What we can’t infer are the boundaries of three-dimensional characters, because Unstoppable falls short in demonstrating the full measure of its subject. Jharrel Jerome gives his all, but without a screenplay to stand on, balance is impossible.
Director: William Goldenberg
Writer: Eric Champnella, Alex Harris, John Hindman
Stars: Jharrel Jerome, Jennifer Lopez, Bobby Cannavale, Don Cheadle, Michael Peña
Release date: Jan. 16, 2025 (Amazon Prime Video)
Jim Vorel is Paste’s Movies editor and resident genre geek. You can follow him on Twitter or on Bluesky for more film writing.