Fairy Tale of the Workingclass Pugilist
by
The less you know about the life of James. J. Braddock, dubbed the "Bulldog from Bergen" by Damon Runyon, the more you'll enjoy Cinderella Man, a meat-and-spuds drama about the Depression-era pugilist. Not knowing the outcome of his 1935 title bout against Max Baer increases the excitement of watching the expertly staged fight and ensures a genuinely stirring conclusion.
The thrust of the stand-up Cinderella Man is that Braddock's ability to box his way out of poverty was an inspiration to the struggling working class of the era. Paradoxically, the Irish Catholic fighter out of New Jersey was inspirational exactly because he lacked charisma, though Russell Crowe can't help letting some sneak out. Braddock compensated for his ordinariness with tenacious honesty and devotion to his wife Mae (Renee Zellweger) and their young children.
By following this line of thought with conventional fealty, the team responsible for A Beautiful Mind -- Crowe, director Ron Howard, and co-screenwriter Akiva Goldsman -- upholds All-American immigrant values in an un-psychological biopic that's perfect for our conservative times. Considering the crucial role of Braddock's loyal manager, the Jewish Joe Gould played by Paul Giamatti, there's even a multi-ethnic, inter-religious dimension.
This suggests a depth that the virile picture doesn't possess however. It's a movie about second chances that works on one intermittently powerful level. Howard captures the brutish as well as the softer side of boxing, connecting each to the social and economic realities of the Depression without subtlety. In his defense, young moviegoers' ignorance of modern U.S. history might necessitate flashing newspaper headlines about unemployment statistics.
Still, everything is spelled out with irksome deliberateness in the first half of the film, starting in 1928 when Braddock is on the verge of breaking into the elite ranks of boxing. His fortunes turn along with the economy, and beaten down by injury he loses a crucial fight in 1929. He's a has-been without a boxing license, forced from his tidy suburban home into a basement hovel. Struggling to feed his children, he works as a dockworker when he can. The proud and principled man will not steal, and later returns money he reluctantly got from Public Assistance, but isn't above begging from his former associates. Eventually, in 1933, he gets a shot at a comeback and makes the most of it.
Two dreamy premonition scenes flavor the realistic presentation and there's little about the mechanics of fighting, although Joe's coaching and motivational words sound authentic. What the plot lacks is a real villain and substantive interpersonal tension. Mae makes a half-hearted attempt to keep Braddock out of the ring before the big fight, but this angle has no legs. In fact, their strong marriage is as responsible for his resurgence as working on the docks, which strengthened his left arm thereby adding a weapon to his arsenal. The story gets truly scintillating during the climactic fight, a 15-round brawl with the vicious Baer (Craig Bierko) that's beautifully paced, with fresh camerawork and various feints and misdirections keeping you glued to the ring.
Certain movies readily come to mind -- On the Waterfront, Rocky, and Raging Bull -- and maybe two less obvious titles: Seabiscuit, about the unpreposessing thoroughbred, and last year's Howard Hughes biopic The Aviator. Like the racehorse, it's easy to root for this underdog. Yet, whereas Martin Scorsese's film suggests the quirky industrialist was misunderstood, this protagonist is psychologically transparent. You never have to wonder what makes him tick.
Braddock has ordinary aspirations and demons. He doesn't have Jake La Motta's volatility or the early Rocky Balboa's soulful melancholy. Crowe transmits his generic personality well and consequently it's not an iconic performance. So too, the movie's un-flashy, average Joe appeal will prevent it from becoming a classic. Cinderella was an everyday girl lifted above her station by magic. Cinderella Man, a true story well told, lacks the magic of a fairytale.
(Released by Universal and rated "PG-13" for intense boxing violence and some language.)