"All is fair in love and basketball," says hotshot player Monica (Sanaa Lathan) as she engages in a little one-one-one with her NBA-aspiring boyfriend Quincy (Omar Epps).
The sentiment paraphrases Shakespeare's quote "All's fair in love and war," of course. Just one problem: there is no truth whatsoever in the line as it applies to basketball. If all things were fair in basketball, there would be no such thing as a free throw.
And if all things were fair in love, there would be no such thing as a engagement ring hurled in the face of a stunned, slack-jawed, would-be bridegroom.
Not that Monica resorts to such histrionics. She throws baskets, not rings.
Writer-director Gina Prinze-Bythewood, betraying her novice status, divides this game of love into four gimmicky "quarters:"
* Flash back to 1981. Upon moving into a new upscale L.A. neighbourhood, the young Monica is quick to show she shoots hoops as well as any guy. This particularly annoys young Quincy, who resorts to rough play to beat his new neighbour. When that approach injuries Monica (who is secretly proud of her scar), Quincy decides to make her his girlfriend. They kiss. And then, within seconds, they're wrestling and slapping, and not in a nice way.
* Flash-forward to the pair in high school. Both are attempting to be recruited into college teams, but while the assured young Quincy plays the field romantically, Monica puts all her passion in her game, even as she pines for the boy next door. It's not till after the prom when she lets her defences down and allows Quincy play on her court.
* Flash-forward again as the pair continue their courtship in college. But trouble brews. Quincy faces a depressing crisis involving his NBA-star dad (Dennis Haysbert). He expects his gal to put her own aspirations on the back burner during this difficult time. Scrappy as ever, she declines. Quincy initiates a split -- in the worst possible manner.
* A few years later, Monica turns pro and mainly plays in Spain. Quincy turns pro ... and suffers a professional setback. This depresses him terribly, despite the fact he is engaged to a woman (Tyra Banks) who looks just like Tyra Banks.
Will Monica find happiness? Is there hope for Quincy beyond the unimaginable hell of having to sleep with Tyra every night?
The answers are in this sports/soap combo, if you care. It's debatable how many B-ball fans will flock to this film for the sake of enjoying a nice, cleansing cry.
Not that it doesn't warrant consideration. On one level, the Spike Lee production is a distaff response to Lee's own basketball expose He Got Game. The significant difference, apart from the fact that the female lead modestly covers her breasts with her hands during sex scenes, is that Prinze-Bythewood writes more credible female characters and has a stronger narrative sense than Lee, quarters and all.
One final quibble: the two-hour plus length. Like her fellow directors Bonnie Hunt (Return to Me) and Edward Norton (Keeping the Faith), Prinze-Bythewood should learn that in the game of love, it's ill-advised to go into overtime.
(This film is rated AA)
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