boxers' blues- one of the more notable points in Eastwood's career

Rating: 8/10 (15 February 2005)

Something a friend of mine talked with me about after he and I had seen the film was a good point about the film's dramatic structure (which prompted me to see the film a second time, aside from knowing intrinsically it would get doused in Oscar liquid). It's like a darker, slightly harsher Aesop tale, with simplicity in its message ingrained into it, but with power none-the-less. I wouldn't say even after a second viewing that Million Dollar Baby, Clint Eastwood's latest film as one of the few remaining Hollywood auteurs, is one of his very best films (I don't know if I may be one of only a few that found Mystic River more shattering on the whole). Still, I think that at the least with these two latest films, Eastwood has reached on his own level the heights of one of his great dramatic influences- director Vittorio De Sica. His films were filled with an intuitive touch of humanity, observing where heart lies within people, and where it doesn't. Aside from the darker themes that the film brings up, it's also at the core a simple tale of those who observe who has heart, kindness, and who doesn't.
Eastwood is better than usual as Frankie, a trainer and owner of a boxing gym. His friend and observer of the film's details, Scrap (Morgan Freeman, supreme in his understated performance), was once a boxer too, but with going too far with a fight, he became half-blind, but given a job and residence by a guilt-ridden Frankie (who is so for that and a few other things, some kept perfectly ambiguous). When he loses his boxer for being 'over-protective', a woman, Maggie (Hilary Swank, intuitive as always in her scenes), asks to be trained. After much convincing, Frankie takes her on, and little by little, he gets looser on his strict terms of not being questioned with his teachings. Then, as Maggie finally reaches the top, there comes what is called in screen writing as the second turning point, and the story turns its last act into the contemplative, the deep, and the tragic.
One thing that grabbed me even more so on a second viewing was that the theme of what boxing does to the human spirit and psyche is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, as Scrap observes, it's "un-natural", to be moving around getting right in the face of pain and not running away, and how it is not a very glamorous 'sport' at all (a theme that makes it more worthy than a lessor boxing movie would give). On the other hand, it also goes in hand with the theme of having heart; the two supporting characters of Danger (in a satisfactory performance by Baruchel) and Shawrelle (Mackie), who are a major contrast. I really liked how Eastwood and writer Paul Haggis (from a book of short stories) dealt with the sub-plot to go so well with the main plot of Frankie, Scrap and Maggie. Another exceptional scene that makes this point clearer- and more resonant as the final act unfolds- is when Maggie gets a treat on her 33rd birthday from Scrap, and he tells his story about how he lost sight in his eye. In this scene, both of the actors are brilliant in their tone and reactions, it makes for one of the more meaningful, and dramatically compelling, pieces of the story.
I wouldn't say, as I said, that the film is entirely flawless (which is arguable, I know). One problem I had both times I saw it, though not overall, was with Morgan Freeman's narration. For the most part it is insightful and narratively correct, but unlike Freeman's key narration role (as the key observer in Shawshank Redemption), not every line seemed very crucial for the story. It is a simple story with simpler, sometimes philosophical notes of narration, but I sometimes wished that everything had to be outlined - one can sense things right in Eastwood's face and eyes while Freeman talks gruffly behind him. And, arguable still, the sheer simplicity of the film does leave it so that one can't figure out parts of the story for themselves.
Never-the-less, the film is an extraordinary stroke of skill for Eastwood as a director. If one can't say that his performance is one of his very best, one could say that his direction, his use of the camera (via DP Tom Stern), is at a peak. The way he uses his strokes of lighting and darkness, and with the way he can control the camera and not be (un-appropriately) flashy, makes it extremely professional. That he's been known to shoot scenes in one or two takes makes for such a sweetly spontaneous result, however totally controlled. Indeed, I agree whole-heartedly with one critic who said "to call this an old man's film is a sincere compliment", especially on the craftsman side. A-