Real Steel
Real Steel (2011)
★★★ / ★★★★
Charlie Kenton (Hugh Jackman) was addicted to robot gambling which was inopportune, in the least, because he was neck-deep in debt. After his robot was demolished by a raging bull, he was informed that his former girlfriend had passed away and his son, Max (Dakota Goyo), needed an official guardian. Charlie was to appear in court to pick up the boy, but Max’ aunt, Debra (Hope Davis), who married a rich man, wanted to adopt him. For a hundred thousand dollars, the gambler made a deal, unbeknownst to Max and Debra, with the husband: Max was to spend time with his father over the summer but he was to be returned in Debra’s care after their trip to Italy. Written by John Gatins, Dan Gilroy, and Jeremy Leven, “Real Steel” managed to be quite involving as it explored the connection between father and son through robot fighting. The picture was smart in first establishing Charlie as our protagonist on the path to self-destruction. He was a good guy, but he often relied on instincts instead of measured calculation to make a quick buck. On the outside, he seemed to do it for the money. He was a former boxer who saw himself as a failure in that field. I looked at him and considered that perhaps he gambled for the rush. Maybe watching his robot fight was like being in the ring himself. As his machines were eradicated, so were his personal connections. Bailey (Evangeline Lilly), his somewhat girlfriend and the daughter of the man who taught him to box, really needed the money that Charlie burrowed to pay for the gym she managed. This made him so desperate, he didn’t even think twice to sell his son. Charlie and Max were quite opposite but the same in important ways. Meeting for the first time, the son suspected that he’d been sold and asked his father if he, in fact, was. Charlie told the boy the truth but Max, plucky and sarcastic, digested the information with dignity and dealt with it on his own. When presented by bad news, neither shriveled; both saw it as a chance to start anew and to prove everybody wrong. That was the reason why I wanted Charlie and Max to succeed as robot gamblers and as father and son. Notice that I haven’t even discussed the robots. That’s because they were secondary to the human drama that propelled the movie forward, yet necessary as a catharsis for these characters. Max stumbled upon a robot named Atom in a junkyard. It was a sparring robot, designed to take a lot of hits but not actually hit back as effectively. With the help of Charlie’s robots, Ambush and Noisy Boy, that had been destroyed, Max was able to extract necessary pieces from them to make Atom stronger in both offense and defense. Eventually, they won enough fights to gain popularity and be invited to World Robot Boxing Tournament in which they had to face Zeus, the undefeated robot champion. Based on “Steel,” a short story by Richard Matheson, “Real Steel,” directed by Shawn Levy, was ultimately a story of redemption. Our decision to emotionally invest in the characters, if one so chooses, was worthwhile because it wasn’t just about metals clanging against each other like in Michael Bay’s egregious “Transformers” movies. There was something real at stake. That is, a father finding his son and recognizing that he was good enough even though he wasn’t perfect.
The Fighter
Fighter, The (2010)
★★ / ★★★★
Mickey Ward (Mark Wahlberg) and Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale) were half-brothers who had a talent and heart for boxing. Dicky was the older one who spent his time reliving his former days of glory. His family, led by Melissa Leo as the matriarch and manager, believed Dicky could make a comeback as they turned a blind eye toward his drug addiction. Mickey, after his family guilt-tripped him into fighting a boxer much bigger than him and being beaten to a pulp, began to think about accepting an offer for a year-round training, with pay, in Las Vagas. This didn’t rest well with the rest of the family except Mickey’s father (Jack McGee) and new girlfriend (Amy Adams) who offered full support. Directed by David O. Russell, “The Fighter” had all the elements to make a truly inspiring film about a man eventually overcoming all odds, but it fell short because Mickey was overshadowed by those who surrounded him. With such spicy personalities offered by Bale, Leo, and Adams, Wahlberg’s character was simply there instead of shining above the rest. He played the mediator, someone who held his tongue just in case someone would get offended by what he had to say, so he ended up boring. He was a bland wall; everyone else were colorful spots on it. I wasn’t convinced that Wahlberg had found a way to make Mickey’s silent suffering relatable or endearing. Some critics’ comparisons to Martin Scorsese’s “Raging Bull” in terms of the intensity and realism of the boxing matches were hyperboles. I suggest the same critics watch Manny Pacquiao’s boxing matches if they want to experience first-rate edge-of-your-seat entertainment. The boxing sequences in this film were commercial and the emotional impact was diluted by quick cuts and obnoxious soundtrack when it should have been primal. I kept waiting for the many distracting elements to subside, especially during the key final match, but the director opted to assault our senses. Sometimes less really is more. I thought the drama behind the scenes, particularly the mother’s increasing awareness that she could no longer manage (or control) her son’s career, were far more interesting. Furthermore, I found Adams’ performance magnetic as she tried to stand up for herself and Mickey against the family matriarch and sisters who had a pack mentality. I’ve never seen her so edgy, so stripped down. Lastly, Bale was excellent as someone who was torn between his addiction and complete adoration for his brother. He was perhaps the most complicated character because there was no doubt in our mind that he wanted the best for Mickey, yet the decisions he made were not always smart. It’s too bad his addiction was more often played for laughs. “The Fighter” was very good in terms of acting but it desperately needed to find focus on the themes it wanted to tackle. It didn’t feel like a complete work.
Annapolis
Annapolis
★★★ / ★★★★
Some people say that the portrayal of the US Naval Academy was unrealistic, but I really wasn’t looking for realism when I decided to see this film. I went to see it to gauge James Franco’s acting ability in his lesser-known or less critically-acclaimed movies. I love stories about underestimated people who dream of big things but are born in poor families. This is a perfect example of that and, aside from some of its overdramatic scenes (especially before a boxing match), pretty much everything worked. I thought it was interesting how the filmmakers related life to a boxing match–how a strong person gets hit countless times and sometimes falls but is never defeated unless he decides to not stand back up. And throughout this picture, that’s the overall tone: a challenge is presented to Franco’s character, how he learns to deal with those challenges and build a reputation between his peers and higher officers. It’s also about learning to ask for help and when it’s the right time to help others even if they don’t want any help. I thought Donnie Wahlberg is brilliant as a higher officer who believes in Franco even though he doesn’t have that many scenes. In a way, he seemed like a father figure who provides support but is also there to provide some tough love. Jordana Brewster as Franco’s love interest is surprisingly effective because the two of them actually have chemistry. She managed to balance sensitivity and toughness well. As for Tyrese Gibson, at first I thought he was going to be an archetypal baddie but over time, we learn that he had to be tough because of the things he experienced in the past; even though he ultimately cares, it’s difficult for him to portray what he’s really feeling–a trait that a lot of people have. I think a lot of critics were harsh on this film because it does have elements from other (better) movies about a person who overcomes challenges in the Academy/military. For me, it’s more important to treat a movie as its own instead of comparing it to similar movies that came before (especially if it’s not a sequel or a part of a series).
