Bouts with Depression

Rating: 7/10 (11 June 2005)

What is it about boxing stories that captivate filmmakers so? Because I am starting to feel like I've had my brain knocked loose watching these things. I realize they offer an easy device to externalize an actor's character, and they allow for lots of crazy hand-held shots in a smoky arena, but enough is enough. Do something different with the genre already. Million Dollar Baby substituted a girl for a man, but then fell into the same trap of clichés: the training, the rise to the big break, the title fight. Fortunately it wasn't really about fighting and transcended the average boxing sequences. The sequences in Cinderella Man are technically impressive enough, and so they should be: they were lifted almost directly from Raging Bull: one of the greatest films ever made. Russell Crowe's character is full of bull, too. His nickname is the Bulldog, and like De Niro, he studied the sweet science very closely and trained to look like a professional pugilist. However, out of the ring Crowe's portrayal of James Braddock is more staging than raging. The man is perfect. Doesn't have any bad habits, does all his fighting for his kids and wife, who have the happiest home life ever, even when they are destitute. And this is what makes Cinderella Man a contender that doesn't deserve a shot. In this film it's not the Great Depression, more like the Depression We Can Get Through If We Just Stick Together. The really interesting part of this story would have been if they showed us how this up-and-coming contender suddenly lost everything. We know he made some bad investments, but why didn't he reach out then to his boxing cronies? How did this affect his character? Because when we're thrust back into the story, now in the middle of the Depression, Braddock is just hunky-dory. Sure he's scrounging for shifts at the docks, and he breaks his fighting hand, but not once do we see him or his family break. Even when his son steals a salami, good IL' Dad makes him take it back, but then tells his son he understands that he was scared. Somehow, through a stacked, schmaltzy script, I honestly started wondering what was true about this "true story." Which seems to be to be a great disservice to the man, James J. Braddock, who really did accomplish these things. It was the Great Depression, for goodness sake, it's OK to show him really break down or have an argument with his wife. I'd admire him more, because he'd at least be more human. The film also does a great disservice to the Great Depression. Much like in Seabiscuit, another plucky character who spoke for the masses, the Depression is presented only in its appallingly worst and with no real analysis: For example, the stock market crashed, but no one can really tell you why, except for platitudes about greed. But the real reason crashes happen is because governments start insuring investors, who then over-invest (most recently in dot-com start- ups). Off topic I know, but the point is let's stop glorifying this one version of the Depression. I had no idea how great a film Grapes of Wrath was until watching these big-budget, studio films that miss the point: if you're making a film about the worst economic time in U.S. history, maybe you shouldn't be spending so much on extravagant boxing sequences and big-name salaries. Renée Zellwegger, a fine actress always, is not needed in the role of the perfectly supportive wife. Her casting only takes away from the real relationship in the film, that of Braddock and his trainer. Paul Giamatti really zings in this picture and his characterization is neither a grizzled, lovable old man ( Burgess Meredith in Rocky, Clint Eastwood in Baby) nor a shyster. He's somewhere in-between. Very strong work, back where he's best, in a supporting role. Crowe also does good work here, especially in the ring, but also in the unemployment lines. He's one of the best working, I just hope he tries picking more nuanced roles like his work in L.A. Confidential, and stops Oscar-baiting.