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'Southpaw': Winner by a Split Decision
By Michael S. Goldberger, iBerkshires Film Critic
04:02PM / Friday, July 31, 2015
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Popcorn Column
by Michael S. Goldberger  

Weinstein Co. 
Jake Gyllenhaal steps into the ring to punch out a story told many times before and still lands a KO.

The stark realism of director Antoine Fuqua's emotionally charged "Southpaw" belies the fact that you've seen this classic boxing saga at least a couple dozen times before, if not more. Oh, they get changed up a little bit, depending on the era from whence they emerge, but the plot is inevitably familiar.

The protagonist, usually of little intelligence and bereft of an upbringing that might have prepared him for a more traditional occupation, grapples his way to varying measures of success the only way he knows: with his fists. And it appears to be going along well, until ...

out of 4

Yep, it seemed like a dream too good to be true for Jake Gyllenhaal's Billy "The Great" Hope, light heavyweight champion of the world. Never mind that his face is a roadmap detailing each of the heretofore undefeated champ's title defenses. He's married to the pretty woman (Rachel McAdams) that grew up with him in a Hell's Kitchen orphanage, has a great little daughter, enjoys a stable of Bentleys and Ferraris, and lives in a mansion overlooking everything. Still, it was always there threatening, the indelibility of his ill-starred origins.

Although Billy prompts the ensuing fall by virtue of his tragic flaw — a rage that doubtless made him so effective in the ring — it's all the fates needed to intervene with a vengeance, as if angry that this lowborn mortal was able to escape from his originally designated circumstances. If he's truly worthy, unlike Sisyphus he'll be able to roll the boulder up the hill once again, without it rolling back this time. In punchfest parlance, such trials and tribulations are called a comeback. Dramatically, the seeking of redemption opens a window into the title pugilist's soul.

This proves tailor made for Gyllenhaal's star turn in a very ambitious, noteworthy portrayal that reaffirms his thespic excellence. If the brass ring proves out of his reach come Oscar time, it can only mean we're going to witness some truly great male performances this year. Otherwise, this is the turning point, the crucible from which he transitions to the Mount Olympus of his chosen career. With just a nudge and bit of indulgence, we believe that Billy Hope is indeed a product of "The System" and a full-fledged member of the brutal environment in which he lives.

Populating this world is a fine supporting cast headed by Forest Whitaker as Tick Wills, the enigmatic, immediately likable former pug-turned-gym owner/trainer and community activist who our man turns to in his hour of need. Whitaker is the two in the one-two punch he and Gyllenhaal bestow the film. Shades of Beery and Cooper in "The Champ" (1931), the tale's devastating blow to the gut comes in the form of Oona Laurence as the precocious, loving daughter, Leila, who suffers her own trial of adversity when things go kablooey for dad.

Truth is, Fuqua, working from a script by Kurt Sutter, has no compunction about borrowing liberally from the library of boxing movies' numerous clichés. The tipping point where Billy loses his temper and sends things crashing is almost an exact stencil of the scene in "Cinderella Man" (2005) in which Max Baer goads Jim Braddock, except without the restraint the latter was able to muster.

But the cross pollination of slugfest DNA works, iterating the fact that, not only are there very few variations on the theme, but that it's practically a genre unto itself. Besides, a focus, let us say, on the anxieties of the boxer's tax accountant, Mort, unless brilliantly written, would hardly garner our interest.

Thus, the only uniqueness one can hope for in virtually any prizefighting opera is the quality of the characterizations and the realism of the fight scenes. Here, making up for those rounds lost to hackneyed story conventions, "Southpaw" scores major points. The ballyhoo regarding Gyllenhaal's extensive and punishing preparation for the role vies in glove-game lore with Robert De Niro's storied weight gain for "Raging Bull" (1980). He's quite the pugilistic example and, when in one grueling moment he bleats to Tick that he's tired, the honesty is chilling.

Furthermore, only 3D-spewed sweat and blood could have made the actual brawling any more believable. Yet, amidst all the bellicosity and angst, what's most remarkable is how Gyllenhaal, playing a man of near Neanderthal sensibilities and intellect, manages to stay within that narrow band of characterization.

Stunning and winning us with the bare-bones humanness he unaffectedly manifests, it's as if we've stumbled upon a survivor of an earlier time, before he took a chomp of that apple, now displaced and tossed into a world of necessary cautions. All of which, aside from gaining our empathy and seat-edged attention, makes us wish we could fend off the predatory blows of inequity foisted upon the metaphor "Southpaw" represents.

"Southpaw," rated R, is a Weinstein Co. release directed by Antoine Fuqua and stars Jake Gyllenhaal, Forest Whitaker and Oona Laurence. Running time: 124 minutes.

 

 

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