Pop culture Politics Perversion Advice Speedmonkey.net

Details

Rate

Images

Renee Zellweger is possibly the most obnoxious Caucasian working in feature films. She wasn't always like this, but Obnoxiousitis must be one of those diseases that gets more physically obvious with every 8-figure paycheck. She must be shot. NOW.

"Cinderella Man", based on the true story of Jim Braddock, the real life Rocky from 1934, takes an inspiring story and turns it into a flick we've seen a million times. If you prefer the high-pitched "Holy COWW!!!" of Toby Maguire to Renee's... every line, check out "Seabiscuit" for a similar package. Ron Howard hasn't soaked his every frame in this much sap since he shot an entire movie in slow motion ("Backdraft").

Between Howard and Zellwhateverthefuck, Russel Crowe is left carrying this bag of Hollywood shit on his shoulders like a phucking slave, aside from a noble supporting play by Paul Giamatti, who portrays his quirky manager. While Giamatti does great at his usual role (neurotic, sprinkled with Hollywood-movie-about-an-older-era class this time), Crowe simply proves himself once again as one of the great actors of his generation.

Phuck that, how dare I use that over-used phrase, he's one of the great actors of any generation that's old enough to watch movies. The guy is proof that not all movie stars got to where they did by hitting one lucky mark and then being over-hyped and packaged like a Happy Meal until the Academy even feels dumbed down enough to give them a phucking trophy because they gained a few pounds and said some cutesy lines in a war movie. From his days as a vile skinhead in ol' "Romper Stomper" to his white-collared Jeffrey Wigand in "The Insider," Crowe has remained a simply naturalistic presence on screen that vouches for those words that are too often used in most movie reviews, words like "brilliant." His scene in which he goes to the boxing commission office and holds out his hat for spare money is probably the only moment this thing is brought down to Earth, and that's saying a bit. This is not one of those movies you lose yourself in. The constant use of quick flashbacks, slow-mo shots in the ring, cutesy-bootsy Goldsman-esque lines, Renee Zellweger, etc keeps us well aware every second that we are in Movie Land, not real life.

The problem with putting a guy like Crowe here isn't the subject matter -- he's the perfect choice to play Jim Braddock, and it sure shows. Where the film, or filmic process, went wrong was having Ron Howard direct, having Akiva Goldsman (while hailed for "A Beautiful Mind," many tend to forget he's the genius behind "Lost in Space" and "Batman&Robin") write the script, and bloating the annoying/shallow/one-dimensional/overly-paranoid wife character into a title role because they got Renee Phucking Zellweger. Somewhere along the line, this human story that did indeed deserve a movie got chewed up by the Hollywood machine that's only worried about selling tickets and nothing more.

The music's good, along with most of the cinematography. I'd say it's all well put together, but it isn't. The music swells to the angles that are supposed to jerk tears (all too often). If you don't know how this tale goes down historically, you'll figure it out quite soon if you've seen more than ten movies in your life. The over-usage of foreshadow for everything that unwinds kills the element of surprise in every bit of this plot. Example: one character's entire purpose in the movie is just to die. That's it. Die. So we can see Renee look at the coffin, then look at Russell, then make a puckered-up expression that hits us over the head with how she's afraid Russell is going to die in the ring while he's boxing the main bad guy.

Sorry to beat this Zellweger thing into KO, but it'll be noticed even by those who camped out in front of the theater for "B2: The Edge of Reason." She's just in the movie too much. It's as if they added an extra fifteen pages to the shooting script to give her better screen time, even if it made no sense. In one scene, she's asking Jim (Russell) if he can get his boxing license back, happy that he got one fight that brought in some dough to the house. When he gets it, she's pissy about him fighting again. Not only do we want the character to just make up her mind, she needs to shut the phuck up and get the hell out of the movie. They make such a big deal out of her being concerned about his fight that we're left just wishing she'd get over it so we can get on with the damn movie. By the ending sequence, her presence is literally jarring. Jarring. By God, what a perfect comparison. Remember the end of "The Phantom Menace"? The last fight in this flick is much like the one between Darth Maul and the Jedi. While we are quite interested in the fight, for some reason they keep cutting to Jar Jar so we can see what he's up to, as if we could give a rat's ass, as if cutting away from the real drama to look at Jar Jar Binks is what we need. In "Cinderella Man," I found myself flinching during the fight between Braddock and Max Baer. Not because it was violent or bloody, because they kept cutting to these hideous close-ups of Renee Zellweger looking like she was about to dookie in her pants. It was horrid.

All faults considered, if Renee Zellweger doesn't annoy you, this may be the flick that changes your mind. If it doesn't, you do have a run-of-the-mill underdog story on your hands, good for a date or whatever if you really aren't bored of seeing American legends summed up into the same cookie cutter tale over and over and over. I shudder at the thought of what they're going to do to Johnny Cash. From the getgo, we know what we're in for, as the opening quote on the screen is simply one about how Braddock's tale is "the best in boxing" -- it tells you what to feel before they even show you what the title is. After they're done with this sugary history lesson wrapped up in a drama that ranks with the more serious themes of "Full House," the big blurbs on the screen go on to tell us how Jim went on to do this and that, "served honorably in World War 2," helped to build a famous bridge, bought a house in this place and lived there happily ever after with Renee, had three tacos at the local vendor's taco stand and signed an autograph for him after telling him his tacos were fantastic 'cause that's just the kind of guy he was, bla bla bla blaaaa. Typical overdone hero tale, where it probably would've been more respectful to make a movie about the human being instead of the human-esque legend.

(two bongs, the third yoinked for too many Zellweger close-ups)

Read more movie reviews

Name
Email
Comment