First look at #PALMER directed by Fisher Stevens (script by Cheryl Guerriero). This story is really important to me and I’m proud to be part of it. Coming to @AppleTV JAN 29 🙏🏻 pic.twitter.com/hNA1Af11wG
— Justin Timberlake (@jtimberlake) December 17, 2020
Watch that trailer and then let me walk you through my thought process while watching that trailer:
- Ok JT, this is cool. He’s coming back from prison or a war, he lives in a small southern town… he’s a former high school football star-turned high school janitor? Ok! It’s Friday Night Lights meets Good Will Hunting. Cool!
- Is he… is he going to make a run at the NFL? Get discovered somehow by some fatherly scout for a CFL team and work his way up to the Cowboys? Cooooooool. Way to go JT! Bet you he plays receiver or something. Quarterback is too obvious.
- Who’s this kid? Is that his son? Did he knock up that woman before he left, and now his NFL dreams are going to be put on hold because he has to be a father? But somehow, they encourage each other and his son becomes his biggest fan? Father-son reconciliation story? Alright! Love it!! I love my dad!!
- Dolls. Kid’s gay. So much for the Cowboys. Jerry Jones doesn’t draft LGBTQ players.
- “He’s gonna have to go in the system,” says the concerned cop. “I’m gonna have to adopt him,” thinks JT. And just like that, we’ve got Manchester By-The-Sea meets Mr. Deeds. The broken, brooding drifter finds has his heart thawed by the effeminate, courageous youth.
Cue the soaring country/gospel anthem. Cue JT sticking up for the kid in the stubborn, regressive Christian community. Cue the bullying lessons. Cue the hug, the milkshakes, the head pat… cue tears.
Great! That’s gonna be a pass from me. Love you JT, but I just don’t think I’m in a place emotionally to be able to handle this right now. Sorry bud. Give me a few years and stick me on an airplane somewhere warm and happy—Cuba? Turks and Caicos?—and I’ll watch the middle forty minutes. The second act, so to speak. While they’re bonding, all the funny moments. You know, before the other shoe falls.
Then I’ll land and drink a rum punch and forget about Sam and his unloving mother.