Cinderella Man
Review by Zachary Keith Parker
Boxing legend, Jimmy Braddock (Crowe) and agent, Joe Gould (Giamatti) star in a possible Oscar contender, but it’s more schmaltzy and erroneous than it is inspiring and truthful.
In 2001, director Ron Howard, screenwriter Akiva Goldsman, and actor Russell Crowe teamed together for the Academy Award Winning film, A Beautiful Mind, which told the suspenseful story of a man groping with his perception of reality.
All three men have teamed up again to tell the story of a man grappling with many manifestations of the Depression Era’s cold reality. Cold, starvation, familial separation, sickness and the like thrive in this depiction of the Depression Era, which thus forces some American citizens to become what one could call survivalists.
Cinderella Man retells the real-life story of boxing legend, James “Jimmy” J. Braddock (Russell Crowe). He remains faithful to his wife, Mae (Renee Zellweger) and his three children, even when people and forces of the Depression Era oppress him. After breaking his hand, his trainer and agent, Joe Gould (Paul Giamatti), sadly informs Jimmy he cannot box anymore because he is too old. Jimmy, now a decommissioned fighter, struggles for work at the docks.
Eventually, Joe gets him the chance to fight one fight only. Jimmy wonderfully succeeds, and he soon fights his way to the top until he must face off with Max Baer (Craig Bierko), who has previously killed two men in the ring. Jimmy’s family, the local church, New Jersey, and the rest of the United States pray restlessly for Jimmy, as he gets ready to face his most formidable opponent.
As Jimmy, Russell Crowe turns in another intense performance, convincingly portraying a layman overcoming great odds. However, Paul Giamatti nearly outshines Crowe as Jimmy’s cunning, cussing, and compassionate agent. I hope the Oscars remember his performance later on, and not ignore it all together like last year (Sideways).
As Joe, Giamatti shows a heartfelt consideration for Jimmy and his family even at the expense of his own family’s bliss, which gives this picture an occasionally moving example of goodness. On the other hand, when it comes to Renee Zellweger as Mae Braddock, we might as well stare at a brick wall. She says some seemingly lovely things, but she fails to make her character fully dimensional, as her delivery is often wooden and forced.
Max Baer is equally forced, but not due to Craig Bierko’s acting. On the contrary, Bierko (Thirteenth Floor) makes this Max Baer compellingly nasty and brutal. But Ron Howard twists historical facts that this movie was supposedly based on to make his hero’s plight more emotionally absorbing. Howard depicts Baer as a merciless and bloodthirsty killer, who killed two men and would not mind killing Jimmy.
Nonetheless, Baer’s encounter with the first fatality—Frankie Campbell—was less vicious than in the movie. Baer knocked Campbell out, who later died because of the blows to his head. Baer reportedly had nightmares after the event, and gave his earned money from subsequent bouts to support Campbell’s family.
The second man Baer “killed” was Ernie Schaaf, who Baer knocked out just before the game ended. Schaaf recovered, and six months later, he fought Primo Carnera, dying four days later due to brain swelling and a bout with the flu, not Max Baer.
It's impossible for your brain to swell when you watch Cinderella Man. Ron Howard, in his characteristic fashion, does not cogently maintain any identifiable theme or moral, but seeks to play off the emotions of the viewer. There is only one arguably worthy motif that many Christians have pointed out in Cinderella Man: The poor, honest, family man defeats the rich, brash, bad ruffian who kills other men and chases women.
In truth, the movie does contain such motifs as Jimmy’s journey from rags-to-riches and there are stages of death/resurrection (or similarly, the power of “second chances” in our lives) throughout the story. However, like most of these inspirational historical dramas, Ron Howard handles Jimmy's character and the accompanying motifs for emotional masturbation, not Christ-minded redemption.
Many times, Jimmy undergoes types of resurrection in the forms of “second chances” or monetary support. While we might cheer for his so-called “good luck," does Jimmy, in the truest mark of Christ-likeness, sacrifice any part of himself for others? He does take care of his family and he gives back the relief money, but only as a demonstration of his self-reliance.
Continuing on, to whom much is given, much is required (Lk. 12:48). Thus does Jimmy sacrifice himself to make the life of Joe or Mike Wilson (Paddy Considine) better? You would be hard-pressed to argue so. After ably receiving many “second chances,” does Jimmy ever give a second chance to, let us say, any of his opponents? No.
In fact, in this film's portrayal, boxers have no care for their opponent’s health or spiritual state. In the first half of the film, Howard constantly reminds us of how the family must survive. It does not posit any distinctive way for people to survive. Boxing is not primarily about surviving, though a boxer cannot participate for long without good survival instincts.
No, boxing, I think, is concerned chiefly with beating your opponent up so badly he cannot survive you anymore. Or waiting until your opponent is tired or weak so you may pummel them into submission. Boxing is simply violence for the sake of violence.
Therefore, in all honesty, the movie does posit a distinctive way for people to survive: by protecting your own self, and when your opponent is vulnerable, take that opportunity to brutally strike them down. This muddled conclusion suggests a survivalist worldview.
Each man takes from himself (does not receive from God) and from his surroundings to thrive in a cold world: "I've got to believe I have some some kind of say over our lives." This survivalist bent is extremely individualistic, as is Jimmy’s own attitude throughout the movie.
He seems most unforgiving when his wife sends away their children, or how he chooses to foolishly put his life (and by relation, the very life and welfare of his wife and children) on the line as a boxer. Yes, as Jimmy pointed out, he could easily hurt himself elsewhere just as in boxing. But in boxing, he is readily accepting the unavoidable danger (maybe death), whereas he would not be inviting any certain danger to himself as a worker.
In the end, its careless worldview and maudlin representation of its boxer hero, I think, undermines any theme of “second chances” or overcoming the odds. Indeed, Jimmy is, at heart, no less sadistic than Cinderella Man’s misrepresented beast, Max Baer. The only difference is that Jimmy seizes the sentiment of audiences because he is the little guy making an otherwise impossible comeback.
Ron Howard’s movie does not uncover the madness of violence, even masochism of boxing like Martin Scorsese’s Academy Award-nominated Raging Bull. It does not avoid the boxing clichés in favor of exploring personal relationships, or even the consequences of boxing, like Clint Eastwood’s Academy Award winning Million Dollar Baby. It merely trivializes the brutal violence of boxing just like Rocky sequels (The original, Academy-Award winning Rocky is easily defensible in this writer's mind).
The only Academy Award worthy elements of Cinderella Man are its superb acting, particularly on the part of Paul Giamatti, and its first-rate cinematography. However, under further scrutiny, Cinderella Man is essentially a remake of Ron Howard’s earlier film Far and Away (Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman) without its convincing romance or its humor.
Cinderella Man lacks the humor of Far and Away because it tries too hard to be serious in portraying Jimmy’s battles, be they violent or emotional. However, it undercuts that seriousness by not being serious about anything at all, and by drawing only on the emotions of the viewer. Overall, its subversive worldview and gushy ending emasculate its promise for a profound or inspiring story.