Battle of the Sexes (2017) Review: Not Even a Hint of Blood

The library went down to the theater and saw the Battle of the Sexes. This was not the movie we expected. Not one person lost their life. Not even so much as a drop of blood.

    Battle of the Sexes, despite the name, is about a 1973 tennis match between Billie Jean King (Stone) and Bobby Riggs (Carell). At no time do King and Riggs do battle in any type of arena attempting to kill or maim each other. Mostly, they hit small green fuzzy balls at each other.

    That's not to say the movie is worthless. The acting is amazing as everyone involved steps up to deliver tour de force performances and… You know what? I'm still bummed about the violence thing.

    Sure, there's sex, but it's the "oh I'm finding my true self and making important social change" type of sex. King's fight for equality is well represented on screen as she excelled at tennis with her fellow women tennis players despite overwhelming odds. She also finds love outside of the devotion she had in her first marriage. Good for her.

    But when I watch a movie with the word "battle" in the title, I wanna see some guts. Blood and shit and people screaming each other's names in ecstasy because tomorrow they might just die violent and horrific deaths. And I didn't get that. I just got a well acted, well written, socially minded film filled to the brim with talent and hope.

    Fucking hope.

     Gross.

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