I have no interest in sports films, and that is bound to have some contention as
to how much I favor the film Cinderella Man (2005). In all honesty, I enjoyed it
enough to sit through it once, but am highly in doubt I could do so again, unless of
course, I received some sort of compensation for what never should have to be
charity. Many reviewers have contended that the film is predictable, and it is,
though that is not what bothered me. Instead, my criticism lies at the feet of the
actors and their director, Ron Howard, for a motion picture where the supporting
cast outdoes the main line up.
Depression Era films are a rare sight, I suppose the topic by its very name is
enough to bring someone down with their own case of clinical sadness; never a
good formula for box office success. Having seen a few in my admittedly short
life, I have observed a nearly constant presentation style which it frequently shares
with Gilded Age or Steam Punk films. That is, a gloomy atmosphere usually tinted
blue, grey, or brown, and dirty streets packed with trash and the trashed. There is
always a scene with snow, frost or rain, I suppose because filmmakers think it adds
to the aesthetic. So when I saw Cinderella Man I was not surprised to see the same
cinematography I have seen in many other places; though I am sure the style has its
merits.
The plot is centered on the true story of the boxer James J. Braddock's travel
from success pre-1929, to misery 1932, and back full circle to the former. The
screenplay, with one major villain related hiccup is, to my knowledge, historically
accurate . The fights were choreographed along the lines of real footage of the
boxing, which sounds great in the theory, but in more than a few instances was
anti-climactic. A bit more theatricality would have been nice, since I don't
believe Howard was going for a documentary approach.
Braddock is acted by Russell Crowe and typically plays the part much like he
does all of his others, as a dull and myopic vision of a man. This was tolerable, and
even preferable, for his bid as a schizophrenic mathematician in A Beautiful Mind
(2001) which fit the personality of the character quite well. Here it is almost an
annoyance, though nothing compared to Braddock's wife played by Renee
Zellwegger. In this role, Zellwegger apparently had the inclination that she was
going to play pug or poodle. The squinty eyes, fluffy hair, puffy cheeks and
Brooklyn accent constantly reminded me of many a cartoon interpretation of such
dogs from the mid-90's.
That aside, I did enjoy Paul Giamatti's performance, which I place just below
his excellent work on the HBO mini-series John Adams (2008). When I think
about it, the scenes I enjoyed the most were the ones in which neither Crowe or
Zellwegger appeared. Giamatti's brief interactions with other minor characters
stole the show; and I think the few laughs that came from the class were due to his
comedic relief. I wonder how much better it would have been if the film were
centered around Giamatti's character with Crowe and company on the sidelines.
I did not hate Cinderella Man, but what cannot be forgiven is the crude attempt
at creating a villain out of Braddock's rival boxer, Max Baer. What comes out is
the most out of place villain since Jason Isaac's overboard British Col. Tavington
in The Patriot (2000). It seemed to have been an afterthought, for a movie with no
clear human antagonist, and yet instead of providing a decent rivalry they created a
monster with no conscience. I suppose there just is not any sportsmanlike behavior
by anyone other than the heroes in a sports movie. Instead of upping the tension
level, it just recalled cliché and flat characterizations we have seen so often in the
past, the character was such a stereotypical villain that it bordered on ridiculous.
Howard can do better than this, as evidenced by, what I think, is his best work,
Willow (1988).