The best ones aren’t about the bouts or the battles—they’re about ordinary people in dire circumstances, merely hoping to get from Point A to Point B in one piece. The truly great films are less about pompous heroics than dramatic prayers for survival. (A case in point: “Alexander” vs. “Black Hawk Down.” Or “The Babe” vs.
“Rudy.”) Reality’s underdog is usually cinema’s champion.
“Cinderalla Man” qualifies as one of the better sports dramas—very good if not great, despite some apparent obstacles. For one, it’s a biography. For those familiar with boxing history, the outcome is already known—hardly great suspense. (This is one film, by the way, that the less you know, the better it is.) For another, “Cinderella Man” comes on the heels of last year’s Academy Awardwinning “Million Dollar Baby.” Just how many boxing movies can filmgoers endure? And it’s a period piece (although very well done as such) one of many recent Depressionera sagas.
Think of “Cinderella Man” as the inevitable offspring of “Rocky” and “Seabiscuit.” Formulaic? Sure. Inspiring? Absolutely. Mesmerizing?
Positively. When formula cinema works, it works well.
To reiterate, great sports films are less about the sport itself than those people forced to test the limits of their endurance. In “Cinderella Man,” Russell Crowe plays boxer Jim Braddock. A contender in the late 1920s, Braccock is reduced to little more than a footnote in boxing history by a series of injuries and bad luck.
When the Depression hits, he’s barely able to avoid the food lines. But his wife, Mae (Zellweger) has faith and his ex-manager, Joe (Giamatti) scrapes up one last fight—which Braddock is heavily favored to lose.
He’s merely exhibition fodder and knows it. But he needs the money.
Then the unexpected happens.
Against all odds, Braddock wins.
(Such is the stuff of bad cinematic melodrama—if reality hadn’t played it out this way.) Joe finds Braddock another fight and then another, and pretty soon he’s eyeing a championship bout with a scowling brick wall named Max Baer. Nobody thinks he can go the distance with Baer (who’s already killed two boxers in the ring).
Few people think Braddock can survive the first round. We get the feeling Braddock isn’t sure himself. Even his wife begins to look at him as if he’s already a memory.
This is the point where “Million Dollar Baby” (in my professional opinion—although apparently a minority of one) fell apart. And yet this is where “Cinderella Man” truly soars. One warning for the squeamish, this is a boxing film, and director Ron Howard isn’t shy about getting up close and personal with his fighters. Several sequences actually hurt to watch. Braddock’s duel with Baer seems to go a full, flesh-thudding 15 rounds. Blood splatters.
Bones crack.
And, in the end—well, if your boxing history’s a bit vague (as was mine), all I can say it was one heckuva fight. I left the theater mentally and emotionally bruised, but not without a hearty recommendation for this boxing flick.
Some may find “Cinderella Man” a tad too predictable—especially in Renée Zelleweger’s portrayal of Mae, Braddock’s tolerant wife. She plays the part with girl-next-door charm and a boxer’s-wife-moxie, but few fight films break new ground in dealing with wives and lovers. Yo, Adrian!
Conversely, Braddock’s relationship with his manager sparkles—as Braddock’s promoter, Joe’s as good with his pitch as Braddock is with his fists. Crowe and Giamatti spar well together here. But even as plum as Giamatti’s role is, “Cinderella Man” is simply another Russell Crowe tour d’force—the man finding ever new ways to delve out on-screen testosterone. For Crowe fans, this one’s a must see. As an actor, he only gets better.
In a nutshell: Even if you’re aware of history’s outcome, a sterling cast and straight-forward approach returns the genre to its dramatic roots; this film is a likely contender at Oscar time. Unless you’re utterly offput by the bloody realm of boxing, “Cinderella Man” is a worthy look at an underdog’s unlikely shot at the top—one more case of truth being stranger than fiction.
