Enter Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger). A Girl Friday type for the Chicago Tribune, Lexie’s editor charges her with the task of discovering the truth behind Carter’s supposed Medal-of-Honor-winning heroism on the World War I battlefield. Lexie uses her womanly wiles to get the real story from young Carter and he falls for the feminist journalist.

Unfortunately for Carter, Lexie only uses her unique blend of sex appeal and sass to get a good story. Being accustomed to rebuffing romantic advances, Lexie keeps herself from becoming smitten with any of her many suitors. Until she meets Dodge Connelly. From the start, the two engage in battlesome banter, a delightful exchange that sets the stage for the couple’s relationship. The comedic verbal chemistry between the two provides a nice departure from the slapstick humor the rest of the film flaunts. Their conversation becomes so charged with sexual tension, that it is soon quite obvious who will come out on top in this Dodge-Lexie-Carter love triangle.

The sepia tones of the film pull viewers into the movie’s world, as do the historically accurate props. From the rotary phones to the leather skullcaps that give the movie its name, the film’s aesthetic evokes the 1920s Midwest, adding a feeling of authenticity to the moviegoing experience. Old-timey football uniforms, finger-curled hair, the profound dearth of women in the workaday world – it all screams mid-20s. Leatherheads even includes rampant “giggle water” drinking in the face of Prohibition, a welcome historical touch that allows for speakeasy scuffles and bar raids that enliven the movie during its more lackluster moments.

And there are quite a few lackluster moments. While boyish and believable, Krasinski bores as the all-American boy. When he was left by himself to carry scenes, I was waiting for Clooney and Zellweger to come back and entertain me. A significant portion of the film is devoted to Lexie’s attempts to prove her journalistic integrity and the consequences of legitimizing pro football, two topics that cause the story to drag more than to propel it forward. And the football scenes are well-choreographed and enjoyable to watch, but when the players left the field, my mind left the room.

Luckily, the interactions between Dodge and Lexie were able to hold my attention. The duo’s sparkling conversations are filled with witty repartee and sexual innuendo, and the acting skills of both Clooney and Zellweger come shining through. Clooney adopts a wide-eyed buffoon persona, with a fast-talking style reminiscent of his O Brother, Where Art Thou? character. But behind the buffoonery is a shrewd thinker who uses his cunning to legitimize professional football and win over the chock-full-o-moxie Lexie. Zellweger as Lexie is both adorable and admirable, donning whatever hat her role demands with her cheeky charm. And as a contemporary 1920s women working in a man’s world – and excelling in it – Lexie is the type who would have been first in line to vote after the 19th Amendment was passed.