Erin Boxovich
Meg Ryan's boxing drama, Against the Ropes, does not deliver a knockout. Everyone from director Charles S. Dutton and writer Cheryl Edwards to the cast seems adrift in an unfinished work.
The tale of boxing promoter Jackie Kallen (played by Ryan) gets its punches in early. As a little girl nurtured by her boxer uncle, if not by her father, Kallen yearns to compete in the male-dominated sport. The movie's finest scenes lie in the arc which follows Kallen's rise, though Kallen is inexplicably changed from ringside tomboy to desk tramp. Edwards's script includes sharp, intelligent dialog.
The elements are in place: Kallen, buoyed by a colleague (Kerry Washington), sets out on her own. When her would-be lover (Tim Daly) fronts the cash to take a dare from an overbearing tycoon (Tony Shalhoub), Kallen recruits a thug (Omar Epps), finds someone (played by director Dutton) to smack the hooligan into shape and she's finally sponsoring a real boxer. With Kallen at the core, the trio gets ready for the ring.
Then, it's as though Against the Ropes is seized by hacks who copy every platitude from Jerry Maguire to Erin Brockovich. Kallen is dressed like Brockovich with Jerry Maguire's fight posture, but she's also a composite of Working Girl, Rocky and Goldie Hawn in Wildcats.
Meg Ryan, unlike Ms. Hawn, has been unable to shed her cuteness, and Ropes won't help. Ryan is unfocused as Jackie Kallen; she nails the midwestern accent, but slips out of it and Ryan's low, deep vocal style sounds like a pre-op transvestite. She wiggles and she hustles, but she goes wobbly around Shalhoub's slimy character. Lacking a motive, the character defaults to the lowly goal of gaining the approval of others.
The rest of the cast also suffers. Daly is wooden as her suitor. Dutton is bored as the trainer. Shalhoub's menacing stare suggests a psychopath more than a sexist. The standout is Epps, who maintains an even, steady progression.
But the cast is not the primary problem with Against the Ropes. The plot holes are wide enough to plant one right between the eyes. Kallen's tender uncle (Sean Bell) disappears. Tim Daly's romantic interest is abandoned. Omar Epps's ghettoized black man goes from ignorance about money to sudden maturity about a committed relationship, despite being surrounded by enough hoochie mamas to satisfy the NBA.
As Kallen swerves from sports chick to shallow celebrity, and she implausibly goes from owning her own gym to working as a temp, any concentration on actual boxing—technique, agility, conditioning—is lost. Instead, the melodrama kicks in with Michael Kamen's arena rock soundtrack and a boxing championship feels forced. The bout is predictable and overwrought and its prize—acceptance of others—is a sorry substitute for what Against the Ropes promised before the boxer makes it big: A woman, a boxer and their smart, self-made conquest.
The tale of boxing promoter Jackie Kallen (played by Ryan) gets its punches in early. As a little girl nurtured by her boxer uncle, if not by her father, Kallen yearns to compete in the male-dominated sport. The movie's finest scenes lie in the arc which follows Kallen's rise, though Kallen is inexplicably changed from ringside tomboy to desk tramp. Edwards's script includes sharp, intelligent dialog.
The elements are in place: Kallen, buoyed by a colleague (Kerry Washington), sets out on her own. When her would-be lover (Tim Daly) fronts the cash to take a dare from an overbearing tycoon (Tony Shalhoub), Kallen recruits a thug (Omar Epps), finds someone (played by director Dutton) to smack the hooligan into shape and she's finally sponsoring a real boxer. With Kallen at the core, the trio gets ready for the ring.
Then, it's as though Against the Ropes is seized by hacks who copy every platitude from Jerry Maguire to Erin Brockovich. Kallen is dressed like Brockovich with Jerry Maguire's fight posture, but she's also a composite of Working Girl, Rocky and Goldie Hawn in Wildcats.
Meg Ryan, unlike Ms. Hawn, has been unable to shed her cuteness, and Ropes won't help. Ryan is unfocused as Jackie Kallen; she nails the midwestern accent, but slips out of it and Ryan's low, deep vocal style sounds like a pre-op transvestite. She wiggles and she hustles, but she goes wobbly around Shalhoub's slimy character. Lacking a motive, the character defaults to the lowly goal of gaining the approval of others.
The rest of the cast also suffers. Daly is wooden as her suitor. Dutton is bored as the trainer. Shalhoub's menacing stare suggests a psychopath more than a sexist. The standout is Epps, who maintains an even, steady progression.
But the cast is not the primary problem with Against the Ropes. The plot holes are wide enough to plant one right between the eyes. Kallen's tender uncle (Sean Bell) disappears. Tim Daly's romantic interest is abandoned. Omar Epps's ghettoized black man goes from ignorance about money to sudden maturity about a committed relationship, despite being surrounded by enough hoochie mamas to satisfy the NBA.
As Kallen swerves from sports chick to shallow celebrity, and she implausibly goes from owning her own gym to working as a temp, any concentration on actual boxing—technique, agility, conditioning—is lost. Instead, the melodrama kicks in with Michael Kamen's arena rock soundtrack and a boxing championship feels forced. The bout is predictable and overwrought and its prize—acceptance of others—is a sorry substitute for what Against the Ropes promised before the boxer makes it big: A woman, a boxer and their smart, self-made conquest.
