Russell Crowe Spares a Dime for Boxing Drama
Though it staggers in the second half, Cinderella Man manages to salute middle class American values. For this alone, director Ron Howard's gritty motion picture, based on the life and career of James J. Braddock, deserves a roaring reception. Dripping in muted Depression-era tones, provided by photography director Salvatore Totino (Any Given Sunday), and with clear not constantly blaring sound, Mr. Howard loosely applies his sense of decency to a folks-next-door drama with an unfinished theme. With actor Russell Crowe at his most relaxed since The Sum of Us, it is a slice of an American life.
Mr. Crowe is focused, resolute and winning as boxer Braddock. His fiercest intensity is reserved for the ring, where he faces formidable opponents twice his size. Aided by Paul Giamatti's manager in a good supporting role, Braddock begins as a smart prizefighter, who actually likes his wife (Renee Zellweger) and three kids. Mr. Crowe is subdued as Braddock, a loving family man who enjoys horsing around with the kids.
The first hour plus offers solid storytelling, as Braddock is taken down notch by notch like the whole country, which was sinking during the 1930's in the Great Depression. His right hook hurting, he loses fights and the kids have to huddle on one mattress while wifey pleads with the gas man not to shut off the heat because they didn't pay the bill. Aging and ailing, Braddock loses his license to spar.
Struggling to make ends meet by working at the docks, Braddock meets a unionist (Paddy Considine) who is as loyal as he is prone to drink too much and, without serving up heavy-handed liberal slop like Seabiscuit, Mr. Howard makes us feel the pain of an entire nation through a single man in the movie's finest scene. Braddock, bloody but unbowed, walks into a tony gathering of boxing cronies, and he does what any man about to lose everything he loves might do: he begs, and he does it sincerely, with his hat in hand and with a steady voice asking for a handout.
Braddock's plea is purely, wonderfully selfish; he's asking for an opportunity not for brotherhood, blood or other Depression picture bromides—he acts to gain and keep his values through honest work. That he's saddled with Zellweger, whose washboard wife makes her as endearing as a sack of potatoes, only makes Mr. Crowe's spirited portrayal more impressive. He agonizes, he jokes, he thinks and always at the right moment.
After the downside is established, and Cinderella Man is not bleak for its own sake, the picture moves toward the comeback that was Braddock's true story and, as rendered here, it is remarkable. In a professional sport that's as much based on showmanship as athletic ability, Braddock makes his bandaged, bruised way back to the ring, where he scrapes several meatheads on his way to a bout with the intimidating Max Baer (Craig Bierko). The swaggering Baer, who had killed two men in the ring, lets Braddock know he wouldn't mind taking out another.
Cinderella Man throws a whiffer with Zellweger's hominess (if she were any more homey, she'd be a box of Corn Flakes), boxing scenes are too cut up—choppy action is an epidemic these days—and a split-second, freeze frame technique stops the action cold. The power of big men pounding one another comes across with some terrific punch shots, and there is no denying Braddock represents the triumph of mind over muscle.
But it's the plot that takes Cinderella Man to the ball, thanks to a loosened up Russell Crowe, who is also incredibly agile in the ring. Despite its slower second half—with too many fights—the movie has several rounds of what Ron Howard does best: projecting American values—honesty, work, optimism—on a character-based story. Cinderella Man may not always flutter and sting, but it leaves a simple man, and the values for which he fights, standing tall.
DVD Notes
The Collector's Edition of Cinderella Man comes in a handsome library-ready case with a bound, glossy booklet, limited edition photograph cards and loads of features. Not bad considering that the movie alone is worth owning on DVD.
With three audio commentaries, including director Ron Howard's, to accompany the expansive movie, it is probably overindulgent and scads of outtakes may clutter disc space, though most of the deleted scenes add depth and understanding to the characters and insights into how and why Cinderella Man was made.
Sports fans will want to skip to the original footage of the June 13, 1935, boxing match at Madison Square Garden between Jim Braddock and Max Baer, and there are pieces on Russell Crowe, the music, still photos, and more. A good place to start before watching the picture is The Human Face of Depression, in which Mr. Howard mentions his own thoughts and recollections of the Depression, which evidently made enough of an impression to motivate him to direct one of his best motion pictures.
Mr. Crowe is focused, resolute and winning as boxer Braddock. His fiercest intensity is reserved for the ring, where he faces formidable opponents twice his size. Aided by Paul Giamatti's manager in a good supporting role, Braddock begins as a smart prizefighter, who actually likes his wife (Renee Zellweger) and three kids. Mr. Crowe is subdued as Braddock, a loving family man who enjoys horsing around with the kids.
The first hour plus offers solid storytelling, as Braddock is taken down notch by notch like the whole country, which was sinking during the 1930's in the Great Depression. His right hook hurting, he loses fights and the kids have to huddle on one mattress while wifey pleads with the gas man not to shut off the heat because they didn't pay the bill. Aging and ailing, Braddock loses his license to spar.
Struggling to make ends meet by working at the docks, Braddock meets a unionist (Paddy Considine) who is as loyal as he is prone to drink too much and, without serving up heavy-handed liberal slop like Seabiscuit, Mr. Howard makes us feel the pain of an entire nation through a single man in the movie's finest scene. Braddock, bloody but unbowed, walks into a tony gathering of boxing cronies, and he does what any man about to lose everything he loves might do: he begs, and he does it sincerely, with his hat in hand and with a steady voice asking for a handout.
Braddock's plea is purely, wonderfully selfish; he's asking for an opportunity not for brotherhood, blood or other Depression picture bromides—he acts to gain and keep his values through honest work. That he's saddled with Zellweger, whose washboard wife makes her as endearing as a sack of potatoes, only makes Mr. Crowe's spirited portrayal more impressive. He agonizes, he jokes, he thinks and always at the right moment.
After the downside is established, and Cinderella Man is not bleak for its own sake, the picture moves toward the comeback that was Braddock's true story and, as rendered here, it is remarkable. In a professional sport that's as much based on showmanship as athletic ability, Braddock makes his bandaged, bruised way back to the ring, where he scrapes several meatheads on his way to a bout with the intimidating Max Baer (Craig Bierko). The swaggering Baer, who had killed two men in the ring, lets Braddock know he wouldn't mind taking out another.
Cinderella Man throws a whiffer with Zellweger's hominess (if she were any more homey, she'd be a box of Corn Flakes), boxing scenes are too cut up—choppy action is an epidemic these days—and a split-second, freeze frame technique stops the action cold. The power of big men pounding one another comes across with some terrific punch shots, and there is no denying Braddock represents the triumph of mind over muscle.
But it's the plot that takes Cinderella Man to the ball, thanks to a loosened up Russell Crowe, who is also incredibly agile in the ring. Despite its slower second half—with too many fights—the movie has several rounds of what Ron Howard does best: projecting American values—honesty, work, optimism—on a character-based story. Cinderella Man may not always flutter and sting, but it leaves a simple man, and the values for which he fights, standing tall.
DVD Notes
The Collector's Edition of Cinderella Man comes in a handsome library-ready case with a bound, glossy booklet, limited edition photograph cards and loads of features. Not bad considering that the movie alone is worth owning on DVD.
With three audio commentaries, including director Ron Howard's, to accompany the expansive movie, it is probably overindulgent and scads of outtakes may clutter disc space, though most of the deleted scenes add depth and understanding to the characters and insights into how and why Cinderella Man was made.
Sports fans will want to skip to the original footage of the June 13, 1935, boxing match at Madison Square Garden between Jim Braddock and Max Baer, and there are pieces on Russell Crowe, the music, still photos, and more. A good place to start before watching the picture is The Human Face of Depression, in which Mr. Howard mentions his own thoughts and recollections of the Depression, which evidently made enough of an impression to motivate him to direct one of his best motion pictures.
