Uninspired and unengaging, Space Jam: A New Legacy struggles to find its footing as LeBron James awkwardly helms the modernised and formulaic rollercoaster of references, missing out on the original’s charisma.
As more and more franchises are rebooted into (somewhat) spiritual sequels, it was only a matter of time until Bugs, Daffy and the rest of the Tune Squad would hop and waddle their way back onto the court. Modernising classics is a fine line to walk: not only is the bar at pole-vault level as studios try to re-capture the allure of a film that now lives in the audience’s collective nostalgia, but it must, somehow, connect with both older and younger audiences.
Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle told a fun, stand-alone adventure that reminisced on its predecessor without deviating from its modern goals. Space Jam: A New Legacy doesn’t.
A New Legacy follows NBA superstar LeBron James (LeBron James) and his family, namely his youngest son Dominic “Dom” James (Cedric Joe) who dreams of stepping away from squeaky shoes and into the world of game design. After creating an arcade NBA Jam style knockoff, Dom and his father are digitised and find themselves in Warner Bros. Pictures’ servers, trapped unless LeBron defeats the mastermind behind their capture, Al-G Rhythm (Don Cheadle).
Family themes return in the sequel as LeBron tries to pressure Dom into sticking with dribbling and ditching typing. The pair collide in the same way one throws a paper plane: confident at the distance your creation will fly only for it to loop around and end up, in an extremely disappointing fashion, behind you. As all the pieces are being set up, James is stiff and uncomfortable, each line feeling strained and forced as he pantomimes ‘love’.
Although formulaic, excitement is in the air as the colourful intro credits peruse through James’ high-flying career. The small buzz is then dimmed by the awkward dialogue and the basketballer’s role as its executioner, but the film loses all engagement once the plot kicks in.
Instead of joining the world of basketball with the goofy and dangerous cartoon world through mystical means, LeBron and his son are brought into a computer as a cheap way to introduce other properties. The insistence on this digital multiverse of Warner Bros. films and shows turns into a way for them to say, “Look at what we own!” A strange choice considering we already saw that in film when Ready Player One did it better.
A New Legacy struggles to feel like anything but a string of shoutouts held together by a weak and one-note narrative
The choice of references is completely dichotic to the rest of the film: “Why meld references seamlessly into the story when we can show something briefly and ensure that it has no impact on the story other than a sub-par coolness factor?” one producer must have asked another. “I agree, but maybe we should look at the villains name again, it sounds kind of eye-roll-y,” replied producer B as producer A only registered only the first two words.
As LeBron assembles the Tune Squad, the film takes a brief intermission into enjoyment. James’ rigidity becomes hidden behind A New Legacy’s greatest quality: its animation. Al-G’s holographic hub may be unbelievable but once LeBron becomes animated there is new life waiting to be discovered, until the film loses itself once again amidst the folds of a fast-paced and meaningless recruitment narrative and a long and tedious boss fight.
Space Jam was never the greatest collaboration between popular cartoons and live-action stars: Who Framed Roger Rabbit still carrying that crown 33 years on. But, A New Legacy struggles to feel like anything but a string of shoutouts held together by a weak and one-note narrative. Equalling a fond childhood memory is certainly a challenge, but when the only memorable moments are weak attempts at humour and call-backs that feel like a square being pushed into a circle-shaped hole, it might be time to go back to the drawing board and draft a new play.
Space Jam: A New Legacy is currently showing in select cinemas and streaming on HBO Max.