Critic Reviews

The reason basketball is such a great spectator sport isn't because of its opportunities for razzle-dazzle editing and direction. It's because the game is kinetic enough without all that swoosh/zap/wham business.

A decent example of Sidekick Cinema: a movie to glance up at from time to time while you download ring tones or text-message your friends.

While director-screenwriter Preston A. Whitmore II's film is to be admired for its proponing the values of a higher education over the dream of a career in the NBA, its dialogue, characterizations and situations rarely transcend the level of cliche.

A film made by people with more heart than skill.

Crossover skimps on court-level pyrotechnics (we get a game in the beginning and, of course, a big game at the end, and that's about it) in favor of dry urban melodrama.

As they pursue their goals, no movie cliché is left unturned. The streetball scenes offer some nifty trick plays, but the rest of Crossover features poorly dressed sets, cheap-looking costumes and locations, and silly histrionics.

Just a few more tweaks and Crossover could have been something special -- a truly terrible movie to savor for the ages. But nooo, this street ball movie -- has to settle for middle-of-the-road badness.

The streetball scenes, much like the plot, have a few high points but never hit their stride.

Much as they would like it to, basketball can't save the youthful inner-city players here. Nor does the ultra-fast-paced street version of the sport save this movie from predictability and tedium.

So badly conceived and executed, its good intentions don't help.