Two-thirds of a near-great movie

Rating: 8/10 (5 March 2006)

This is the kind of big, populist entertainment that just screams 'Oscar'. The only problem with "Cinderella Man" is that it hasn't done the kind of business at the box-office that Oscar seems to demand and has, therefore, been relegated to the sidelines. And yet, of all Ron Howard's films it may be the best thing he's done to date, (he doesn't have much of a pedigree, I admit). OK, ditch all the scenes with the wife, (a game, but monstrously underused Renee Zellweger) and kids and scrap the scenes with an equally underused Paddy Considine, which seem to belong to a different picture entirely and what you are left with is one hell of a great fight picture, magnificently shot (by Salvatore Totino) and edited (by Daniel Henlay and Mike Hill).
Howard may be a shameless charlatan who messes with our emotions but he is a great showman and in the fight scenes he pushes all the right buttons. You may hate yourself in the morning but this is the kind of triumphalist entertainment that could bring an audience to its feet. It's the story of James Braddock, an outsider who became World Heavyweight Champion in 1935 after defeating Max Baer. But Braddock wasn't just an outsider; he was the personification of everything that is decent and good about the human race. Laid low, he goes on Welfare. Back on his feet again, he gives the welfare money back. Any resemblance to a certain man from Nazareth is purely intentional.
Given Howard's penchant for this kind of gross sentimentality it ought not to work at all. But it does, and in spades, largely due to two terrific performances. As Braddock, Russell Crowe has never been better. He is, of course, wonderful in the ring and, no pun intended, he doesn't pull any punches but it is in the potentially mawkish moments away from the ring that he totally transforms the material and makes us believe in Braddock. One of the film's best scenes has him begging, quite literally cap in hand, for handouts from the boxing fraternity. And as his manager the great Paul Giametti gives an Oscar-worthy performance. He is like a cross between Bambi and a pit-bull terrier and his scenes at the ringside are electrifying. So what we have here is about two-thirds of a near-great movie and for that I am willing to forgive Ron Howard just about anything.