Cinderella Man

The cinema darkens. The movie begins - slow, tender music as we close in on a newspaper picture of the man they called the Cinderella Man. Then WHAM! We are instantly in the world of boxing in early 20th-century America. First, I'm not a fan of boxing films - never watched Rocky, Raging Bull, Million Dollar Baby; the sport has never interested me. The only reason why I went for this was because it was a Ron Howard film, who reliably churns out good stories without artsy or flashy pretensions; that and its phenomenally favourable reviews. The film is based on the true story of James Braddock, a once popular boxer who lost his fortune during the Crash, but finds a second chance in life for himself and his family when he unexpectedly wins, for the first time in a long time, in the boxing ring.

Crowe proves, yet again, that he is a natural actor - he plays the role with much dignity and sincerity, while Zellweger plays the supportive wife with determination without drawing attention to herself. This is a movie less about the sport and more about how people survived during the Depression era; how people find heroes among themselves to carry themselves up again. The boxing scenes are expertly handled, and every moment the audience is right there, cheering for Braddock - more an emotional involvement than a sympathetic reaction to seeing people being hit on screen. The cinematography is apt, using grey and brownish tones to convey the downbeat atmosphere of the period; the score by Thomas Newman so tender, poignant and haunting, it effectively amplifies the emotions of the scenes.

Believe me, this is an emotional movie. At first glance, the whole setup seems clichéd and predictable (and, some would say, redundant, considering the presence of Seabiscuit a couple of years ago). In fact, that was exactly what I was thinking when I walked into the screening. I left the cinema stunned at how much it surpassed my expectations. Go see it. I mean it. GO SEE IT.

Sebastian Ng