*CHECK OUT THIS INCREDIBLE FAN-MADE POSTER. Director: Antoine Fuqua Starring: Jake Gyllenhaal, Rachel McAdams, Forest Whitaker, 50 Cent, Naomie Harris, Oona Laurence Writer: Kurt Sutter | 3/5 Southpaw It pains me to give a film composed of such powerful, awards-caliber performances three star, but despite many pep talks to myself, there are problems with Antoine Fuqua’s Southpaw that simply cannot be overlooked. What pains me even more is that my main beef with the film is its elementary, paint-by-numbers script by Sons of Anarchy-creator Kurt Sutter, who I am a massive fan of. A boxing drama, already one of the most saturated genres in Hollywood, may not have been the best place for Sutter to make his jump to the big screen. Because all boxing movies are virtually the same plot wise, I should not have to give a synopsis. Because I am kind, I will anyways. Southpaw follows Billy Hope - Really, Sutter? Billy HOPE? - on his journey from riches to rages to riches. The film begins on the cusp of Billy (Jake Gyllenhaal, incredible) winning his title belt. His style consists of him getting the snot beat out of him until the last second, at which point he looks into he crowd, sees his wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams, making a big impression with not much screen time), and fells his opponent with last swing. Take Maureen out of the stands and what does Billy have left? The answer: a whole lot of snot beating, followed by not a lot of winning. Throw in a cute, supportive, glasses-wearing daughter (Oona Laurence) and what you get is a last chance of redemption. See where this is going? |
If you have seen Raging Bull, Million Dollar Baby, Cinderella Man, Ali, The Fighter, or any of the Rocky movies, then you absolutely should. Southpaw borrows relentlessly from all the better movies that came before it, never so much as trying to be original and make its own way. For the most part, I blame Sutter. Billy’s character arc is strictly formulaic, never so much as hinting at a third dimension.
Leave it up to the the A-list cast, then, to really set this thing into overdrive and make Southpaw a movie that is not only bearable to watch, but actually kind of enjoyable. I’ll get to the masterful supporting performances of McAdams and Forest Whitaker in a sec, but what everyone is going to be talking about after seeing the film is the complete physical 180 made by Gyllenhaal after last year’s Nightcrawler. I cannot say enough about it. It would have been easy to let the bulging muscles and tattoos act, as opposed to really turning in an emotionally nuanced performance, but Gyllenhaal never takes the easy route. From his urban accent to the way he carries his body, we have never seen Jake play a character like this before. Needless to say, he is a marvel. We not only get to see the angry beast inside of him, but also the caged and fragile soul seen just behind his sad, bruised eyes.
When I say that Gyllenhaal’s performance is not enough to outshine McAdams and Whitaker, that is really saying something. In her brief fifteen or so minutes onscreen, McAdams leaves a lasting impression on the whole film, making Billy’s pain feel palpable throughout. I could say something similar about Whitaker, who takes an extremely typical Eastwood-type trainer and makes him feel real and fleshed out. You may see every plot development coming from a mile away, but the cast is performing at such a high level that they almost make the material seem fresh…Almost.
As far as the direction goes, Fuqua does not contribute much to that freshness. Outside of the ring, Southpaw feels and looks like a hundred other films. Inside the ring is a different story. Fuqua trades in Scorsese’s smokey, more artistic Raging Bull matches for a more literal, broadcasting look. Shot on location in MSG and Caesar’s Palace in Vegas, the film’s boxing scenes are expertly constructed and make you feel like you are there, watching the match live. If only the scenes outside of the ring fizzled with that much intensity. That would have been a movie.
Leave it up to the the A-list cast, then, to really set this thing into overdrive and make Southpaw a movie that is not only bearable to watch, but actually kind of enjoyable. I’ll get to the masterful supporting performances of McAdams and Forest Whitaker in a sec, but what everyone is going to be talking about after seeing the film is the complete physical 180 made by Gyllenhaal after last year’s Nightcrawler. I cannot say enough about it. It would have been easy to let the bulging muscles and tattoos act, as opposed to really turning in an emotionally nuanced performance, but Gyllenhaal never takes the easy route. From his urban accent to the way he carries his body, we have never seen Jake play a character like this before. Needless to say, he is a marvel. We not only get to see the angry beast inside of him, but also the caged and fragile soul seen just behind his sad, bruised eyes.
When I say that Gyllenhaal’s performance is not enough to outshine McAdams and Whitaker, that is really saying something. In her brief fifteen or so minutes onscreen, McAdams leaves a lasting impression on the whole film, making Billy’s pain feel palpable throughout. I could say something similar about Whitaker, who takes an extremely typical Eastwood-type trainer and makes him feel real and fleshed out. You may see every plot development coming from a mile away, but the cast is performing at such a high level that they almost make the material seem fresh…Almost.
As far as the direction goes, Fuqua does not contribute much to that freshness. Outside of the ring, Southpaw feels and looks like a hundred other films. Inside the ring is a different story. Fuqua trades in Scorsese’s smokey, more artistic Raging Bull matches for a more literal, broadcasting look. Shot on location in MSG and Caesar’s Palace in Vegas, the film’s boxing scenes are expertly constructed and make you feel like you are there, watching the match live. If only the scenes outside of the ring fizzled with that much intensity. That would have been a movie.