[yasr_overall_rating]
A boxer fights his way to the top, only to find his life falling apart around him.
Antoine Fuqua’s body of work as a director has been a grab bag of films that strain believability and substance. Sometimes they work (“Training Day”); sometimes they don’t (“Olympus Has Fallen”). I wouldn’t say “Southpaw” is a middling film, but it’s not a great one either. In it, we find Billy Hope (Jake Gyllenhaal), world champion boxer, taking down all challengers with his wife Ramona (Rachel McAdams) sitting ringside to provide him the necessary support. He has a beautiful daughter, Liela (Oona Laurence), at home in his stunning mansion. All this works until a young challenger, Miguel Escobar (Miguel Gomez) begins to make trouble for Billy. At a charity event, tragedy strikes and sends the champion into a tailspin that causes him to lose everything he has. The house is repossessed, Child and Family Services takes his daughter, and he’s suspended from boxing for a year. At his lowest point, he tracks down an old boxer turned inner city trainer, Titus Willis (Forest Whitaker), and begins the long road back to respectability. Drama strikes him at every turn.
Gyllenhaal handles a role miles away from his previous turn as a deranged newshound in “Nightcrawler.” His portrayal of the insecure star athlete brought up through the foster system is impeccable, showing once again he may be the most versatile actor working today. Billy Hope gets his name honestly at first, with so much going for him and his entire saving grace found in his wife. She’s no trophy wife, but a woman of force and substance, providing Billy with the advice and support he needs in a world where he can trust few of the people around him. When she’s killed, Hope’s entire world falls apart around him. He simply can’t understand or handle the loss, sinking deeper and deeper into a hole he knows will consume him if he doesn’t change. But consume him it does. He’s unavailable for his grieving daughter, which drives a wedge between them. The ever present alcohol eventually brings him down as far as he can go. He’s filled with rage and grief, but has no outlet for either emotion, so he takes his self destructive nature with him like the handgun he holds to his own head more than once.
If it weren’t for the intensely powerful acting by Gyllenhaal, melodrama would overwhelm the film. “Southpaw” feels like Fuqua took the Apollo Creed death scene in “Rocky III” and stretched it out for two hours. It becomes one disastrous event after another, with our hero Billy Hope reacting in absolutely the worst possible way to each tragic moment. Gyllenhaal’s face carries the force of each punch in the ring, and in life, throughout the film. His hanging shoulders reflect the weight of a hard life in a way that the viewer never forgets the pain even in the few happy moments.
Whitaker demonstrates his heavyweight skills as the trainer who won’t train “professional” boxers. His “Tick” Willis brushes aside the glamour to invest himself into the lives of neighborhood youth, represented in the star struck Hoppy (Skylan Brooks). The veteran Whitaker knows exactly the right touch to give the grizzled trainer, a man whose past we don’t get to know enough. He provides the perfect amount of levity and wisdom with a healthy dose of cynicism. He says as much with his facial expressions as with his words, and the interplay between the two master thespians is a joy to watch.
Newcomer Laurence delivers another powerful performance as Hope’s grieving daughter, rounding out the best acting I’ve seen from a cast since last year’s “12 Years a Slave.” She seems older than her twelve years, giving Leila a sense of independence which sustains her while her father grieves having forgotten about her. She conveys the frightened and confused child with such heart wrenching realism viewers face the inevitable consequences of Hope’s actions with deep sympathy for Leila and anger toward her broken father.
Once again, Fuqua pulls performances of unexpected nuance from his actors. His greatest strength is getting each performer to buy into each character completely. These actors know each character like family, and the chemistry between actors jumps off the screen. His real weakness as a director comes in the overkill he sometimes falls into. Here, melodrama strikes so heavily in so many moments the film sometimes feels like the pilot for a new soap opera. Kurt Sutter’s script moves the action along tightly with some snappy dialogue, but too often falls into familiar territory. Fuqua does a fine job hiding some of these shortcomings, but spends too much time tearing Hope’s life apart. Audiences only want their heroes to fall so far before they begin their rise back to the top. Fuqua misses the mark, so the first half bogs down in depression. The second half moves quickly as Hope begins training again, but the tears don’t end.
The camera work bears mentioning for its attempts to put the viewer squarely in the middle of the fight sequences. Oscar winner Mauro Fiore presents punches from each fighter’s point of view. Cutting these sequences into ringside shots with fight announcers calling each punch did pump a little more adrenaline and realism into the matches. Outside the ring, Fiore shows his mastery of framing locations to fit the action. No matter the grit or barrenness of the locale, he manages to give it character.
“Southpaw” will give lots of audience members reason to cheer. Even with its faults, I enjoyed it. The performances save it from becoming an average overwrought melodrama. It’s still an overwrought melodrama, just a good one. Any fan of great acting should give it a viewing. You’ll be richly rewarded in that department. Be sure and bring a good supply of tissue with you, though.
In theaters July 24th
