Review: Cinderella Man (2005)

Ron Howard teamed for a second time with Russell Crowe to make this film about depression era boxer Jim Braddock—and was disappointed when people didn’t flock to see it, back in June, despite some glowing reviews. Roger Ebert says in his review, “…a nice man as the boxer Jim Braddock“, and makes a good starting point for a discussion about whether or not the pure goodness of Howard and Crowe’s Braddock was one of the reasons for the film’s “failure”. If films are escapist entertainment, then it’s possible that people were turned off by Braddock because he was boring. He offered no escape because, boxing aside, he was an ordinary person—and most people believe themselves to be good, ordinary people. If someone goes to the cinema to get away from his or her life, he or she prefers gangsters (repressed desires for power, violence or sex) or aliens (fantasies) to Jim Braddock.

On the other hand, if we’re to believe that a film is a mirror in which we see ourselves, then there’s a more sinister reason we could come up with to support the claim that nice is exactly the reason why people did not want to see Cinderella Man. We could argue that the representation of Braddock is threatening to the average person because Braddock is an ideal that many average people strive for, but only a few achieve. Aliens are easy to dismiss as irrelevant and gangsters — regardless of any pleasure derived from watching them — easy to dismiss as destructive, but Jim Braddock, the nice man, sticks with us.

“I’m a simple man.”

Along with the simplistic representation of Braddock as a saintly husband, father and member of society (who doesn’t allow his son to steal even in the most dire circumstance), there are other simplifications in the film. The rival boxer, Max Baer, is an utter thug and probable-murderer who enjoys the brutal punishments he dishes out in the ring; Braddock’s wife, Mae, never questions her husband with anything other than a pouty face and “good wife” stubbornness; and the wealthy men who run the various boxing associations and corporations are evil capitalist pigs with no sympathy for the plight of the less fortunate.

“We’re poor but we’re happy!”

One of the more troubling aspects of Ron Howard’s Cinderella Man is the disarmingly nonchalant and uncritical way in which the director approaches the scenes of mass elation at the end of the film. As people cheer Braddock’s victory in the ring by rushing into the streets to the sound of the film’s swelling musical score, most of them remain jobless, money-less, and hungry. The depression hasn’t disappeared. The picture is probably accurate, but that Howard rejoices along with crowd instead of being critical, or at least wary and detached, of their attitude and situation leaves one wondering what the film’s agenda is. Is Howard tugging shamelessly at our heartstrings, or is there an ulterior motive? There was a saying in Communist Poland about the importance of chleb i igrzyska (roughly: bread and sports) in appeasing and keeping down a repressed population. Maybe the bread is optional.

Cinderella Man is an above-average film with excellent boxing scenes that emphasize strategy over gimmicky editing, and good acting. It is entertaining, emotional and better than most of what comes out of the big American studios. Unfortunately, it is also disturbingly complacent and simplistic.

Pacze Moj
© Cinephile Magazine, 2006