There are a lot of reasons why Air, the sensational new movie starring Matt Damon and directed by Ben Affleck, is being consumed by audiences with eager pleasure. Its the rare drama for adults these days that people actually want to see in a movie theater (I dont mean that to sound negative; the film could jump-start a trend). And thats no random triumph. Air, based on the true story of Nike, Michael Jordan and the man who brought them together, is full of juicy inside talk about money and sports and celebrity and what agents and marketing executives actually do. In that way, it has the qualities that defined both Jerry Maguire and Moneyball.
The script is by Alex Convery, who has come out of nowhere (this is his first produced feature), and I would personally like to give a high-five to any screenwriter who creates this kind of dialogue bright and sharp and nimble, with a cutting worldliness, the kind of conversation thats been an engine of great films for 100 years. People talking! Spewing whats on their minds, or deftly concealing it, as we hang on every word. Air has come along at just the right moment to remind us that terrific actors delivering savory lines of dialogue is the most special effect a movie needs.
The film is a catchy 80s period piece, though not because it says, Yo, check out the 80s details! Rather, its because Affleck, who is such a casually ace director, the kind who gets everything right but doesnt let you see the sweat, creates a 1980s texture thats just there, at once slick and frowsy and lived-in, enveloping the characters and defining how they think.
This offers some hindsight chuckles, as when Phil Knight, the co-founder and CEO of Nike (played by Affleck with prickly comic command), explains why Nike makes its revenue from running shoes, so why would it want to get into the sports-sneaker business? The movies needle drops, from Money for Nothing revving up the opening moments to Rock the Casbah and Sister Christian, produce note-perfect moments of propulsion and reflection. And Damon, wearing dowdy khakis and hideous stripes, with hair parted down the middle and a paunch it looks like hes earned, takes you inside the cunning huckster gaze of Sonny Vaccaro, the sports marketing executive who gets an idea that blossoms into a vision: Hes going to sign Michael Jordan, the budding NBA superstar who was then 21 years old, to an exclusive contract with Nike.
Jordan doesnt care much for Nike. Hes an Adidas man, and Nike doesnt have a lot of money to offer star athletes for endorsements. So why on earth would he sign with them? What Sonny understands its what Don Draper understood on Mad Men is that you cant have a great marketing concept if it isnt supported by a dream. Sonny is a salesman, but the thing hes asking is: What is Nike selling? Is it a shoe? The glow of Michael Jordan? Or is Nike selling something richer and deeper an idea of who Michael Jordan is that will be defined and changed by how hes being marketed? And that will, as a result, change how his fans feel about him? The deal that Sonny is trying to put together isnt just for a celebrity endorsement. Hes trying to create part of the meaning of Michael Jordan.
Jerry Maguire was a romance. Moneyball was about a new algorithm for building a team, but the film pivoted on a classic journey toward trying to get into the World Series. Air, by contrast, is simply a drama about a shoe company doing all it can to make a deal. We know, famously, how the story ended; its not as if theres some awesome suspense built into it. So why is Air such a rousing movie? In many ways its a throwback, returning us to the kind of sharp-edged mainstream entertainment that used to cruise along on the audiences intelligence. Yet part of whats so smart about Air is that this 1980s story is powered by an element thats very, very contemporary. The entire movie is about branding, and about the reasons why branding, when done right, can seem like its everything.
Branding is now something we all do. Social media is, at this point, only incidentally a form of communication; its a vehicle that people use to position themselves, to craft and sell a certain idea of who they are. On Facebook and Twitter, were all our own avatars. On TikTok and Instagram, were more than that we are actors and advertisers, projecting our self-created images out into the world. The language of advertising (memes, slogans) has become the language of ourselves. And because we all know all this, we now relate to almost everything we see as if it were a form of advertising. Were constantly deconstructing the signals that come our way from individuals and corporations. The metaphysic of signifiers has become the air that we breathe, applying to everything from the coolification of kombucha to the never-ending candidacy of Donald Trump.
Air touches the moment that these forces began to gather steam in the culture. The film is set in 1984, when advertising had entered its high renaissance era of knowingness (the Ridley Scott 1984 Apple commercial, Wheres the beef?), so its not as if this was the Stone Age of corporate branding. Yet what the movie is about is how Sonny, even as hes out to make the deal of the century, roots his quest in the human dimension of what hes doing. He has figured out a way to invest branding with soul. The company will create a sneaker for Michael Jordan, and that shoe wont just be something he wears; it will be part of who he is. They want the sneaker to have lots of red, to be a thing of beauty, but that breaks NBA rules. The league requires shoes that are mostly white and will fine any player who violates that rule. So Nike will pay the fines! Each and every game.
Theres something in that one financial detail thats so resonant, so counterintuitive that it almost makes you want to cheer. Its the company, and the movie, getting us to see that so many of the rules we live by are piddly, arbitrary things, that theyre made to be broken. Yet the reason Air is a drama as moving as it is captivating is that its ultimately a story that confronts a dimension of race in America. Viola Davis, in a performance of pinpoint slyness and an inner fervor that sneaks up on you, plays Jordans mother, Deloris, who is doing the bulk of the negotiating for him. Deloris is tough and holds all the cards. Shes fielding offers to Michael from every shoe company and is, of course, holding out for the best deal. The question is: What does that mean?
In 1984, it means more than money. It means some ineffable combination of money and mythology. Deloris belief in her son is absolute, and what that belief leads her to know is that he has the potential to occupy a place in sports, a place on the planet, that no player has occupied before him. Hell be standing on the shoulders of Wilt Chamberlin, Dr. J., Kareem; hell reach even greater heights. And thats a story of a form of genius, a newfound expression of triumph by a Black man in America. That is what the Air Jordan will mean. It will incarnate the beauty of that triumph and will allow all of Michael Jordans fans to taste a small piece of it. Air is a movie about branding. But what it shows you is that the way we brand ourselves can be a reality that defines us deeply and lifts us high.