Cinderella Man

After claiming nearly every major Oscar for 2001’s wonderful A Beautiful Mind (except one for the lead actor who kept the entire picture together), director Ron Howard and actor Russell Crowe once again team up for a biopic, this time centering around the life of Depression-era boxer Jim Braddock. As I watched this film, I kept being reminded of a number of other great boxing films that have previously graced the screen. Just the sheer of act of boxing is so visceral and intense, that it’s bound to get audience members on the edge of their seats no matter how lousy the film’s story is.

Yet the great boxing movies are the ones that make you care about the human bones that might be broken in the ring. 1980’s Raging Bull depicted the animalistic macho flaws of its characters, as they hammered each other’s faces into bloody stumps. 1976’s classic Rocky showed an unknown “loser’s” attempt at proving he’s not a “nobody” by “going the distance.” 2004’s Oscar-winner for Best Picture, Million Dollar Baby, showed boxing used as a poignant attempt to add meaning to lives ridden with tragedy. Each film gave audiences a different reason to cheer during the fight scenes, and in Howard’s Cinderella Man, the protagonist in the ring is a guy who simply wants to make a good life for his struggling family.

In an age where short-sighted, soulless materialism often rules the day, it’s not only moving, but quite humbling to remember a day in America where most average citizens stood in bread lines as skyscrapers towered in the horizon. Sometimes poverty can’t be quite comprehended until it’s experienced on such a massive scale, and Howard’s film captures a time when men didn’t box just because they enjoyed the sport, or needed to boost their ego. It’s because they needed to save the lives of their starving families. That makes the boxing scenes all the more tense, immediate and harrowing. As Braddock, Crowe once again proves that he’s one of the best actors in the business.

Despite his formidable presence in the ring, Braddock emerges as a kind, even highly sensitive man who loves his family to the extent that he’ll eventually risk his life for them. There’s a wonderful moment (that, according to a recent “Charlie Rose” interview, was improvised), where a distressed Braddock offers an apology to his wife, and she refuses to accept it, thus putting the importance of their family (and devotion for each other) ahead of any problems involving money.

Renee Zellweger, whose recent overexposure to the media (and somewhat overrated work) has led to her to be often panned by audiences, is admittedly nothing short of exceptional as Braddock’s wife, Mae. She never overplays a scene, and delivers a performance that’s almost delicate in its quietly emotional sincerity. And Paul Giamatti, fresh off his triumph in 2004’s Sideways, is simply marvelous as Braddock’s smooth-talking, charismatic manager Joe Gould. With his bulging eyes, briskly vibrant line delivery, and natural comic chemistry with Crowe, his performance seems about as effortless for him to achieve as, well, breathing.

Yet in the end, Cinderella Man emerges simply as a portrait of a genuinely good human being who was not only inspiring because of his iconic underdog-status in Depression-era America (which bears a distinct similarity to the icon seen in 2003’s Seabiscuit), but because he demonstrated a selfless, humanistic nature that is hard to find in these impersonal days of capitalistic American society.

Director Howard’s best films, particularly 1989’s Parenthood, demonstrate an endearing viewpoint on the power of human relationships, and Cinderella Man is no exception. Although perhaps too much time is spent on the climactic fight, Howard milks it for every last bit of possible suspense, and you’ll end up finding yourself placed right on the edge of your seat regardless.

One final note: although Braddock was indeed referred to as the “Cinderella Man” by some newspapers in the 1930’s, I thought the filmmakers could think of a better title than that (perhaps one that wouldn’t make overly-discriminating audiences avoid the film simply because of a silly name). That’s probably why I felt somewhat relieved when a moment arrived in the film where Zellweger reads the name in the newspaper and laughs, “It sounds kinda girly!”

Rating: **** (out of *****)