This article contains spoilers for “The Boys in the Boat” (2024).

George Clooney’s adaptation of “The Boys in the Boat,” based on the bestselling 2013 non-fiction book of the same name, unfortunately, flounders. The film — depicting the University of Washington rowing team’s quest for the 1936 Summer Olympic games and starring Callum Turner as rower Joe Rantz and Joel Edgerton as coach Al Ulbrickson — promises an inspiring underdog story but falls short, delivering a narrative that is more fizzle than sizzle.

“The Boys in the Boat” is rife with unremarkable visuals, failing to make a cinematic splash. Close-ups of frenzied oars and aerial views of tight boat races offer fleeting visual appeal but fail to lift the film above banality. While Clooney briefly echoes Leni Riefenstahl’s acclaimed propaganda film “Olympia” for inspiration, dynamically switching between immersive coxswain and rower point-of-view shots, most race scenes retreat into harbors of conventionality. His attempt at visual symbolism, using a jarring red light to express the coach’s anxiety, is a misjudged stroke, feeling out of sync with the film’s otherwise natural aesthetic.

Limited by its 124-minute runtime, the story focuses predominantly on Rantz and Ulbrickson, with the rest of the crew receiving shallow development. Turner’s portrayal of Rantz, while steady, lacks distinctiveness. He navigates through a mildly engaging but unnecessary romantic subplot and an intriguing yet underdeveloped relationship with his estranged father, bringing some depth to his character. However, Rantz’s issues of trust and abandonment, which are central to his persona, receive only superficial treatment, leaving his emotional arc feeling incomplete. A deeper dive into these elements would have injected much-needed drama into the film.

But “The Boys in the Boat” is not without redeeming qualities. Edgerton, as Ulbrickson, treads the familiar waters of the stern yet supportive mentor but delivers a robust performance that serves as the film’s emotional anchor. His eventual expression of pride in the team is predictable yet heartwarming. 

Furthermore, in their limited screen time, coxswain Bobby Moch (Luke Slattery) and rower Don Hume (Jack Mulhern) hook audiences. Slattery, even with a megaphone obscuring part of his face, energizes both viewers and his on-screen crew, blending desperation and leadership to breathe life into the otherwise lackluster races. Mulhern, as Hume, becomes the emotional core of the team, embodying both vulnerability and resilience. His performance culminates in a scene where Moch’s singing revitalizes a faltering Hume, propelling the crew to an Olympic win. This moment, poignant and well-executed, highlights the depth of their connection. 

Additionally, the film occasionally steers into humorous waters with some effective comedy. Early on, Rantz and another rower hobble into a classroom, aching and groaning from rowing exertions. Another memorable scene features Hume, a timid oarsman, coerced to play piano at a party by his boisterous teammates. The film skillfully employs a shaky camera zoom followed by a close-up of his panic-stricken face for comedic effect. This technique resurfaces later, comedically capturing the shocked expressions of the team’s financiers.

Clooney’s commitment to authentic rowing also adds a wave of credibility to “The Boys in the Boat.” The actors portraying the working class student-athletes, through intensive training, row well enough for general viewers but may not fully convince veteran rowers. Nonetheless, the dedication to realistically depicting rowing not only impresses but also highlights the crew’s commendable commitment, elevating the film’s overall allure.

But, despite these flashes of competence, “The Boys in the Boat” barely skims the surface of the crew’s grueling journey in the world of competitive rowing. Despite the coach’s emphasis on the sport’s demanding nature, the film merely paddles around the edges of this claim. A single shot of a blistered hand, a scene with light-hearted limping and some vomiting fail to capture the depth of commitment required in rowing, leaving the audience with only a ripple of the rowers’ challenges. The decision to condense years of struggle into a cinematic year streamlines the narrative but saps its impact. Moreover, the soundtrack, rather than stirring up a storm of emotion, merely bobs along, diluting the intensity of the training and racing scenes.

In the finale, our heroes dock in Nazi Germany for the Olympics. Unfortunately, the film’s tepid portrayal of the climactic race fails to plunge viewers into the action, unfolding like a live-streamed competition instead of a soaring cinematic spectacle. Despite teases of formidable rival crews, these “threats” barely rock the boat. The movie is unable to create a menacing atmosphere, with German crowds and even Hitler himself failing to stir up tension. With the U.S. crew’s victory feeling inevitable rather than hard-earned, the film is left high and dry without meaningful stakes. 

The film’s choice to bookend the story with scenes of an elderly Rantz watching his grandson row is perplexing. Instead of buoying the story, this framing device undermines the team’s victory against the Nazi men’s eight, concluding the film with a mundane whimper rather than a triumphant bang. Moreover, the dialogue in these scenes, epitomized by Rantz’s cliche line, “We weren’t eight, we were one,” further drags the film down.

Despite its potential, the movie lacks the dramatic currents needed for a compelling sports drama. Rather than an eight-man crew soaring dynamically, the film resembles a disjointed mob struggling toward a forgettable finish. It earns not an Olympic gold but a mere participation award.