The Moral Equivalent of War?

Rating: 5/10 (3 December 2016)

Jake Gyllenhaal and Forrest Whitaker are up to par in this knock-kneed drama about pugilism. Whitaker always brings a little something extra to each role, rarely menacing, rarely perceptive, but always listening carefully. Gyllenhaal, as has become traditional, is bloodied in the boxing ring. He has three things going for him as the movie opens. He can take all kinds of punches without falling down. (Watch De Niro do the same in HIS boxing movie.) He's motivated by anger. And he loves his family, the cute Rachel McAdams who isn't around long enough, and his devoted daughter. He's so good, he's the champion. Of course his face is all misshapen and his wife wants him to quit the ring but he's pretty uneducated (he can't spell "incarcerated") and it's all he knows how to do. His speech is already slurred.
At a party he meets the rising young star, Miguel Gomez, who is a very savvy and skilled fighter. Gomez flings a few ritual insults at Gyllenhaal's wife and daughter and the champ, being what he is, loses it. A fracas breaks out. Someone produces a pistol and McAdams is shot dead. As a result Gyllenhaal goes on a self-destructive binge and loses everything -- his house, his little daughter, his self respect, the esteem of the public, and the championship. He's now a bum living alone in a shabby hotel room.
Of course we've been here before -- the sports hero battling his inner demons. And here, as elsewhere, and as my TV Guide puts it, he seeks redemption. I wish that word would disappear from our vocabulary because it's so overused. Listen, I had to learn about "redemption" in Catechism and redemption is when you do some terrible wrong and then make up for it by becoming sort of spiritual and by doing good works. "Redemption" does not mean "success regained." It's closer to what Freud called "undoing." The only person Gyllenhaal abuses is Gyllenhaal.
That reminds me of my own career in the ring. In boot camp, they had try-outs for the boxing team. I knew nothing about boxing but my good friend Andy from Michigan accompanied me to the gym. He and I were outfitted with gloves the size of throw pillows and told to get in the ring and fool around. Well, Andy and I were buddies and didn't want to hit one another so we danced about and finally, bashfully, Andry swung his glove around in a long, slow loop large enough to trace the equator. I saw it coming and watched it curiously as it approached. It barely touched flesh and I was on my knees. End of ring career. Where was I? Yes. Well, now a desperate bum, Gyllenhaal finds an amateur trainer, Whittaker, and works his way up from cleaning the toilets to challenging Miguel Gomez for the championship. I will let you guess who wins. The scenes in the boxing ring are well done. When a guy misses, he misses fast, and only by half an inch, not by a mile. And the fighters actually seem to tag one another realistically. Whap -- a jab and the opponent's face is visibly knocked back.
That's about the end of the good parts. Antoine Fuqua directed and he seems not to know when to leave well enough alone, or else he's aiming for an audience of semi-moronic Neanderthals who can't tell that Gyllenhaal is being crushed while he cradles his bloody and dying wife in his arms. The scene is full of blubbering and cries and lasts about as long as the Mousterian Age. It's not just the direction. There is no evident motive for his daughter's alienation. I suppose she blames her Dad for her mother's death but it seems hard to understand why she should, since Dad had practically nothing to do with the shooting. (Impressive performance here by Naomie Harris as the Child Care Worker charged with the daughter's welfare.) Whittaker teaches Gyllenhaal to fight as a Southpaw but nothing at all comes of it. The final bout is touted as "a revenge match" -- repeated over and over. But revenge for what? Miguel, Gyllenhaal's opponent, had nothing to do with the killing, and neither did Gyllenhaal himself.
One wonder if it's at all possible to make a sports movie WITHOUT the hero falling from grace and finally "finding redemption." "Rocky" -- the first "Rocky," not the egregious sequels -- was a good film about boxing and character and it ended realistically in a draw. This one is crowded with clichés and, what the hell, if the hero wants to find redemption let him join a monastery.