[yasr_overall_rating]
Told from a first person perspective, “Fight Like A Girl” is about women overcoming their demons through boxing, while telling a larger story about abuse, trauma, mental illness and healing. In a gritty, first-person narrative that was shot over a period of five years, filmmaker Jill Morley delves inside the little-known world of female boxers to meet the women who are passionate about fighting hard.
“Boxing has been chasing me for years,” intones Jill Morley as she explains her desire to step into boxing ring for the first time in her life as woman in her late thirties. The problem is, while boxing chases her, she has other demons to run from. In fact, Morley focuses her attention on a group of women boxers, each of them with circumstances and inner struggles she uses boxing to overcome. Whether it be getting out of the life of an exotic dancer, lifting the weight of depression, or escaping the abusive relationships that have shaped their self worth, the stories that unfold in Morley’s self-made documentary shows its audience the dichotomy of fragility and strength each of its subjects holds in balance.
Morley herself isn’t entirely certain why she wants to box. She tells herself she dives into the sport to help overcome the post traumatic stress she’s fought since suffering brutal abuse as a child at the hands of her mother. Some of the most chilling and heartbreaking moments in the film have nothing to do with her time in the ring, but instead happen as she talks to her family members, including her mother, about the abuse she experienced. These matter-of-fact “interviews” offer a portrait of the effects of childhood trauma on adults. Morley speaks almost tentatively about the experiences; her questions direct enough, but the tone of her voice showing how unsure she is of the answers she will hear in response. In this insecurity, we hear a foreshadowing of deeper trials to come.
Morley follows two other women as they work through boxing’s ranks: amateur Susan Merlucci-Reno, professional Kimberly Tomes, along with trainers and professional boxers Maureen “The Real Million Dollar Baby” Shea (who worked with Hillary Swank preparing for Swank’s Oscar winning role in the film “Million Dollar Baby”) and former World Champion Melissa Hernandez. Hernandez specifically demonstrates the way female boxing is still treated as a novelty in many quarters. The disparity shows starkly when comparing Floyd Mayweather’s earnings in a single fight against Manny Pacquiao, $179,808,511, to the earnings a professional women’s boxer might make in a non-title bout, $10,000 to $20,000, though Hernandez often fought for $600 or less, so little she couldn’t afford to drive a car.
Susan Merlucci-Reno, 34, works hard and earns some real accomplishments on the amateur circuit. Her goal is to win the Golden Gloves championship in New York City, the premier amateur boxing event in the country. She, too, has escaped an abusive situation, but has found some stability in her current boyfriend and trainer. As she buries herself in the sport, maintains a strong persona ripe with positivity and focus. She rarely shows any cracks in her veneer, only a bit of nervousness as the competition approaches. Listen closely to her words, though, and we realize she’s far more complex with emotions roiling below the surface. Her facial expressions and the distant look in she occasionally gets in eyes tells a story beyond the smile on her face.
Kimberly Tomes’ professional career flounders and her frustration grows. The one thing that stops her from quitting altogether is the realization she’ll go back to exotic dancing, a career Morley herself explored. As Tomes asks herself “Do I really want to go back to giving lap dances to dirty old men” the disgust in her voice is subtle but present. She changes trainers, bringing in Melissa Hernandez, who builds her confidence and begins to turn her career around.
Morley herself reaches out to Maureen Shea just a few weeks before the Golden Gloves tournament begins. Her previous trainer hasn’t given her the confidence she’s needed, and she’s ended up paying a high price for it. Her hope is that Shea can give her some confidence and help her technique enough for a little success in the tournament. The two women bond over their shared experiences of abuse and PTSD, Shea’s at the hands of a former boyfriend, Morley’s at the hands of her mother.
The threads of abuse and trauma, empowerment and healing run in stark contrast throughout “Fight Like a Girl”. In essence, it becomes a boxing film that isn’t about boxing so much as it is about surviving and learning to cope with hardship and tragedy. Boxing is the conduit through which each woman faces these challenges, with the sport itself serving as an allegory of sorts for their struggle. Each woman moves through her life getting hit hard, knocked down, only to stand up swinging back figuratively and literally. At times, the standing count comes perilously close to eight, but Morley and her companion boxers push through to the end, bitter or sweet.
Morley’s film feels intimate and personal, feminine but with a story for both men and women. She lays her own heart bare on film. So do the other women in the film, just not as deeply. After all, “Fight Like a Girl” is a film about one woman’s journey to conquer her demons through the sport of boxing. While she shares the emotional aspects of her trauma in moving detail, she remains detached, acknowledging that hers is a mental illness, but missing some opportunities to explore that part of depression and PTSD in depth. While this remains an important part of the story, it’s a bit of a nitpick where this movie is concerned. I thoroughly enjoyed learning about the issues surrounding women’s boxing and hope Morley picks up the camera again.
Available to watch now on GOOGLE PLAY and DVD
