Pugilistic Poetry

Rating: Null/10 (3 February 2005)

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced this is the Best Picture of 2004, and it may be better than any since "L.A. Confidential". What we have here is a topical rumination on how people generally try and do the best they can, that things still often go askew and how we cope. This is Clint's spin on reducing all to Hemingway's view that the greatest impediments in conducting life are fear and sentimentality.
The story is a simple one, it seems. Trainer Frankie Dunn (Clint Eastwood) and ex-fighter Eddie "Scrap Iron" Dupree (Morgan Freeman) have their less-than-idyllic but tolerably comfortable gym existence invaded by the likes of an aggressively and intensively focused female boxer. Talk about turning lives upside down! The entire scope of the known pugilistic universe is imperiled, and so are the lives of all those that touch newcomer Maggie Fitzgerald's (Hilary Swank) own.
It is a truth that the promotion of this movie has been clever. Packaged as a girl-boxer flick, this is an enormous deception. In all fight films that have preceded this one  and there have been some very very good ones  not one will have left you, in a word, captivated. This is the only poetry I ever saw with gloves on.
Clint Eastwood has graced us with  and I am not sure whether he is to be congratulated, or his questioner, or Film Comment  as cogent and compelling an interview as has been seen in that fine magazine in a long time. I refer you to http://www.filmlinc.com/fcm/1-2-2005/ceint.htm for Eastwood's views, but how about this for erudition while speaking volumes to the intelligence of us viewers: "There is a tendency to treat the audience as if they won't stay with you unless you explain every little thing along the way." And this speaks to the niceties of Eastwood's efforts in his later years. Look for the small things, a gesture, an aside  Morgan Freeman mutters some niceties, the lighting and especially the music.
I cannot in good faith recall a movie that moved me as much as "Million Dollar Baby". Not ever. Maybe it is my academic research in subjects of this ilk, perhaps my 52-year old maleness, or that I have one child  a major-babe remarkably-gifted go-getting daughter, or that I had I've had my own questions about what greatness entails and what a successful life might be, or how I've dealt with just about any and all of the human issues Mr. Eastwood touches on in this remarkable film. And it must be said that the knockout blow delivered by "Million Dollar Baby"  a message or perhaps reflection on topics that speak to our most private fears  is truly the stuff of a Best Picture.
Rating: Four Stars.