George Clooney has learned American audiences over the years, from the days of his guest appearances on Roseanne to his career-making stint on ER to his Sinatra-esque dalliances on the Oceans Eleven series. Though he didn't direct last year's Academy Award-winning Michael Clayton, he did bring a strong note of maturity to Tony Gilroy's legal drama. Clooney is arguably the most respected actor working in American cinema. The relevance of Tom Hanks and Harrison Ford in the new age remains in question, whereas Clooney's graying locks give off a strong feeling of 21st century comprehension.

Clooney's previous directorial efforts included Good Night, and Good Luck and Confessions of a Dangerous Mind. His efforts has been impressive, particularly coming from a mainstream actor, who historically would be more attracted to Scottish war films or perhaps a Western about Native Americans. Yet Clooney seems to insist on forgetting ancient history and going back merely a few decades in time, as if the recent past is the only thing we can truly comprehend. In Leatherheads, he proves he can bring this same educational perspective to a very tired genre: the sports movie.

Whereas Clooney could have easily picked up a project about an unflappable football coach who takes a bunch of losers to the big time NFL, he chooses to rewind to the days of pre-NFL football, in the 1920's when football was America's big gamble. Clooney plays Jimmy 'Dodge' Connelly, the owner of a bankrupt professional team, who is unable to convince the masses that professional football can work and is still desperately seeking redemption in his life. Football is his only hope since he has no "trade" to fall back on. His last hope may be in strait-laced college-aged superstar Carter Rutherford, as interpreted by The Office's John Krasinski. However, complications ensue when both men pine after news writer Lexie Littleton, played by Renee Zellweger in full Roxie Hart pose.

The film has a delirious pre-Hollywood rambunctiousness to it--a distinctly farcical tone but without any forced contrivances. Clooney brings quizzicality to his leading man's role, which could easily have been underplayed or over-compensated with cliches and simulated machismo. However, Clooney's befuddled style of acting is very entertaining. It's nice to see the smartest guy in the studio play dumb for a change.

John Krasinski's character is also appealing and he plays the part of Carter Rutherford rather well, capturing both the arrogance and timidity of celebrity youth. Other performances are skillful, including Jonathan Pryce as CC Frazier, one of the more ghastly rich snobs in recent times, and Stephen Root, the ex-Newsradio actor who has been outdoing himself with odd cameo appearances. Renee Zellweger can be easily taken for granted, as she can run the gamut of unlikable personalities, from upper-class man-eater to fragile basket case without turning a facial muscle.

Nevertheless, this was Krasinski's opportunity to shine, just as it was Clooney's moment in the sun, directorially speaking. It wouldn't be exaggeration to say that Leatherheads is the greatest football movie ever made, nor would it be scandalous to say George Clooney is one of the best mainstream directors in Hollywood. While he hasn't mastered the art of film as emotional manipulation, he has successfully managed to entertain our leather heads with the most obscure of subject matter. Grade: B+