Million Dollar Baby

Genre: sports drama
Director: Clint Eastwood
Release: 2004
Studio: Albert S Ruddy Prodns et al. - Warner Bros. Pictures
Rating: PG-13
MBiS score: 6.9/10


Here comes the Sucker Punch

In boxing circles, Frankie Dunn is way past his prime; aside from managing Big Willie Little, a rising star, he spends his time operating a small club with his partner Dupris. When Maggie Fitzgerald approaches him for help, he flatly refuses to coach her but Maggie perseveres and he finally takes her under his wing.

From this premise, Clint Eastwood has crafted what many have hailed as a film “about life, not just about sports” and a worthy follow-up to the great MYSTIC RIVER. Sadly, I disagree. For sure, MILLION DOLLAR BABY offers solid production values and tries very hard to be quirky and personal but, in my book, it still comes off as a standard jock film, albeit updated. Hilary Swank is by far its brightest light as the determined underdog (underbitch?) capable of conquering Frankie’s heart; her sincerity and physical presence earned her a well-deserved Oscar. Conversely, Clint and Morgan Freeman had to contend with some weak lines that made them sound at times like a surreal odd couple.

But the main problem here is a wonky script. Warning - spoilers ahead! The relationship between Frankie and Maggie was certainly refreshing – he saw her as a surrogate daughter – but how can a good father counsel his girl to go out in the ring and “hit hard in the tits”? On another level... have you ever heard a priest use the word “fuck” before? I haven't. And the “sport” practised here can only be described as backstreet brawling with leathered fists (blows under the belt, with the elbow, from behind). Let’s face it… the German champ wasn’t the only dirty fighter (by the way, she should have been disqualified). As for the tragic denouement, it literally made me squirm (never a good sign); for more genuine affliction, try TERMS OF ENDEARMENT.

In due time, MILLION DOLLAR BABY will stand as a metaphor for rapidly decaying mores in America. After ROCKY, RAGING BULL, WHEN WE WERE KINGS and ALI, we’re now stuck with artless lasses flailing about for tainted fame and funny money. Any sport resembling what I saw here should be banned, not glorified on film. My apologies to everyone involved.


MBiS

© 2008 – All rights reserved