This is a classic that took me far too long to finally see. It’s a sports romance full of compelling characters that explores an assortment of interesting themes, and I’m glad that I (belatedly) got on board.
The story of Monica and Quincy is told in four “quarters,” beginning with their meeting in childhood when Monica’s family moves in next door. Even though they’re just kids, the two quickly establish their dynamic: mutually obsess over basketball, scrap, and maybe become boyfriend and girlfriend (until they get on each other’s nerves and break up.) The dynamic follows them to high school, college, and beyond, as they both struggle to navigate their relationship while chasing dreams of baller stardom.
My favorite part of this movie is the character of Monica. An aggressive, determined player on the court, she has the skill to back up her cockiness but gets called out for her “temper,” and knowing that guys aren’t penalized for the same level of passion just makes her angrier. She doesn’t like to soften herself for anybody and she’s as uncomfortable in girly clothes as she is at home on the court. And while she’s been carrying a torch for Quincy, she also doesn’t believe in minimizing her own dreams to accommodate him. She’s cool, rootable, and flawed, and I love watching her on my screen. I’m someone who understands/cares very little about sports, but when I watch her on the court, I can feel how much the game is life-and-death to her.
A pity, then, that Quincy doesn’t seem like that great of a guy to hang her hat on. He also loves basketball, and the two enjoy facing off against each other both on and off the court. They both have family issues that can give them a difficult time, and their long history sometimes gives them an unspoken understanding between each other, where each sees what the other needs without anyone having to say it. At the same time, though, Quincy is self-centered, unconsciously prioritizing his needs over Monica’s and making some pretty hurtful decisions when he’s upset. He comes across as the kind of fragile-ego guy I’ve long since stopped having time for in my fictional characters. I know the heart wants what the heart wants, but seriously, Monica—him?
This hampers the central romance for me, which, since it’s the main plot of the movie, is unfortunate. Still, these two are capable of being pretty good together when Quincy gets his head out of his ass, and there’s a lot of other stuff going on in the film to add interest. At first, I couldn’t figure out why the story was set primarily in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s, but then I realized it must be because the WNBA hadn’t been founded yet. Despite Monica’s childhood dream of being “the first girl in the NBA,” her actual professional prospects are limited, and it burns her up that her teams are continually given less shine/attention than Quincy’s. I really like seeing her storyline play out as a whole, not just the romance part of it.
Monica is wonderfully played by Sanaa Lathan, tough and vulnerable and angry. She also does a great job of inhabiting her body like an athletic girl who doesn’t know how to behave in dresses. Quincy regularly annoys me, but that’s on the character, and I can’t fault Omar Epps’ performance for it. I’d say it’s probably his charm holding Quincy together between the nice parts and the trash parts. The rest of the cast is a who’s who of talented Black actors, featuring the likes of a very effective Alfre Woodard, Dennis Haysbert, Harry Lennix, Regina Hall (yay!), Gabrielle Union, and Tyra Banks. Phew!
Warnings
Sexual content, language, drinking, and thematic elements.
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