5.2/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 5.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. How to Break 90 #5: Impact remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you play golf, sure. If you just like watching people in vintage sweaters talk about physics, also yes. But if you’re looking for high-octane drama, you’re in the wrong place.
This is basically a grainy, black-and-white time capsule. Bobby Jones is the star, and he doesn’t waste time with jokes or flashy editing.
He just hits balls. A lot of them. ⛳
The whole thing feels like a lecture you’d catch on a rainy Saturday afternoon in 1933. Jones has this calm, measured way of talking that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could actually lower your handicap. (Spoiler: you can't.)
The cinematography is simple. It’s just him, a club, and a ball against a nondescript field. No fancy drone shots. No slow-motion replays that last for an eternity like in modern sports shows.
There’s a weird, hypnotic quality to the way he swings. It’s so consistent it almost looks like a loop. It reminded me of the rhythm in Finding His Voice—that same focus on technical precision through a dated lens.
The audio is a bit crunchy, like the microphone was hidden in a bag of flour. But honestly? It adds to the vibe. You hear the crisp thwack of the club, and for a second, you’re right there on the grass with him.
I caught myself staring at his shoes. Who wears those to play sports? 👞
It’s not trying to change the world. It’s just a guy who knows his stuff showing you how to do it. It’s way less pretentious than the stuff you see on the Golf Channel today.
If you’ve seen Hits and Misses, you know that vintage instructional stuff usually has a specific, dry humor to it. This isn't quite that, but it has that same 'don't-mess-around' energy. Watch it for the swing, stay for the nostalgia. Or don't. It's only a few minutes long anyway.