Last Sunday night, in front of a global television audience, Will Smith slapped Chris Rock during the Academy Awards ceremony. As I wrote yesterday, it was a surprising moment that nevertheless says more about our culture’s obsession with celebrity and controversy than anything else. What’s more, lost amid the post-slap hullabaloo was Smith’s reason for being at the Oscars, namely, his most recent film King Richard (2021), for which he was tapped “Best Actor.” It’s not that commentators and fans forgot that Smith garnered the award. After all, during his acceptance speech, Smith implied that his assault on Rock was done in character, as if he were still playing the role of famous tennis-dad Richard Williams. As Smith put it:
Richard Williams was a fierce defender of his family. In this time in my life, in this moment, I am overwhelmed by what God is calling on me to do and be in this world. Making this film, I got to protect Aunjanue Ellis, who is one of the most strongest, most delicate people I've ever met. I got to protect Saniyya [Sidney] and Demi [Singleton], the two actresses who played Venus [Williams] and Serena [Williams]. I'm being called on in my life to love people and to protect people and to be a river to my people. Now I know, to do what we do, you've got to be able to take abuse. You got to be able to have people talk crazy about you. In this business, you've got to be able to have people disrespecting you, and you've got to smile and you've got to pretend like that's OK. What I loved— Denzel [Washington] said to me a few minutes ago, he said, “At your highest moment, be careful, that's when the devil comes for you.” I want to be a vessel for love.
No, what was forgotten—or at least neglected—was the actual movie King Richard. In his speech, Smith suggests that the movie is essentially about how a loving father protects his children. This is not entirely wrong, but it does “flatten out” the figure of Richard Williams, who, as Smith so deftly demonstrates in the film, is a complex and occasionally exasperating individual.
As a father myself, who has had much (too much?) experience with youth sports, I could instantly sympathize with many of the concerns raised in King Richard: Williams wants to raise successful athletes and good kids, but the hyper-competitive culture of youth sports makes those goals exceedingly difficult to attain. Further, as his girls continue to improve, Williams has to battle his own worst enemy—himself. He fights with his wife, contradicts his girls’ coaches, exploits the generosity of others, and is constantly seeking benefits and favors for his family. Of course, in the end, Williams’ decisions seem pardonable, but perhaps only because Venus and Serena turn out to be two of the best players in women’s tennis. “If you fail to plan, you are planning to fail,” Williams says at various junctures throughout the movie. It’s an excellent motto, but King Richard never mentions the thousands upon thousands of parents who plan just as Williams did, with far less impressive results.
Indeed, one could even make a case that King Richard is a dangerous film. How many blustering little-league dads and supercilious soccer moms will be encouraged by the film’s ostensible message—that a driven and egomaniacal parent can will a child to athletic greatness and, with it, a lucrative career. As A.S. Hamrah argues:
This is a business movie, which reaches its height not when Venus Williams (Saniyya Sidney) almost wins her second professional match and reveals her talent and grace to the world, but when the Williams family decides to hold out for a better sneaker deal. “Nine months later,” we read on screen at the end of the movie, “Venus signed a contract with Reebok for twelve million dollars.” I don’t mind being nudged to cry as the Williams sisters’ reach for the stars in Compton. But I call “out” when I am asked to weep with joy over their first professional product endorsement.
I myself did not walk away with quite that feeling. King Richard has plenty of inspiring moments, and I can see why Smith won the Oscar. But I think the film would have been better served (no pun intended) if it would have focused on the one thing it never mentions—that Venus and Serena, despite their own heavy labor and their father’s rampant brokering, somehow fell in love with tennis. For it was their single-minded love of the sport, coupled with their innate athletic prowess, that propelled them to greatness. And yet, these are attributes that Richard could not ordain. Rather, like a sculptor, he could only be an occasion for their manifestation.