A boxer's search for redemption

 

At times while watching director Jack Huston's Day of the Fight, I felt as though I were watching an advanced acting class. You can almost feel actors digging to wring every bit of flavor out of every scene. Shot in black-and-white, Day of the Fight tells the story of a one-time middleweight champion trying to pull his life together after being released from prison. Michael C. Pitt plays Michael Flannigan, a boxer we follow on the day of his comeback fight at Madison Square Garden. Mike spends the day trying to mend fences with some of the major people in his life, notably his former wife (Nicolette Robinson) and teenage daughter. He also meets with his trainer Ron Perlman, an uncle (Steve Buscemi) who has been a major influence in his life, and a friend (John Magaro) from the old neighborhood who has become a priest.  Mike also visits the father (Joe Pesci) who tormented him as a kid but now is a demented old man staring out the window of the nursing home where he lives. Flannigan also makes a major bet on himself to win his bout. Huston's gritty New York story aims at the heart, but its beat is slowed by the extra weight of genre familiarity.

Liam Neeson plays an aging thug

 

It's been more than a minute since I bothered with a Liam Neeson movie. In films such as Nonstop and Taken, Neeson proved a reliable action star. His movies tended to mire him in formula, the reluctant savior who eventually kicks ass. I’d had enough — until now. I decided to check on Neeson with Absolution, a thriller about a former boxer who spent most of his post-ring life toiling as a gangster for a Massachusetts drug boss (Ron Perlman). Looking grey as a New England fog, Neeson's character suffers from chronic traumatic encephalopathy, which means he's losing his memory -- and sometimes his temper. Dreary and depressing, Absolution includes scenes in which the boxer hallucinates about being on a boat, finds a bit of tenderness from a woman (Yolanda Ross), and tries to reconcile with his estranged daughter (Frankie Shaw) and his grandson (Terrence Pulliam). Eventually, Neeson's character is forced to seek absolution for sins of violence and family neglect through an explosive outburst in which he attempts to right his many wrongs. Neeson turns down his star wattage and looks forlorn as a man on the cusp of death; he creates a real character, but director Hans Petter Moland, who directed Neeson in 2019's Cold Pursuit, keeps the movie on a slow track, steering it into territory that feels more dispiriting than driven.

A caper built around Boston bumblers

If you were picking a movie based on its cast, The Instigators would be a good bet. The movie stars Matt Damon and Casey Affleck and utilizes the talents of Michael Stuhlbarg, Alfred Molina, and Ron Perlman in supporting roles. But the cast — no matter how strong — can’t shake the limits of dreary, uninspired material. Director Doug Liman ( Edge of Tomorrow, Mr. and Mrs. Smith,  The Bourne Identity, and most recently, a maligned remake of the movie Road House) brings us to Boston where Damon and Affleck play bumblers lured into stealing big bucks from the city's corrupt mayor (Perlman).  Another member of the larcenous band (Jack Harlow) is too quick to resort to violence. Not surprisingly, the heist goes wrong, taking the story on a stale and disappointing journey. The movie strains to introduce a comic element when Damon's Rory is joined by his therapist (Hong Chau) as the thieves take flight. The joke: Chau's character takes an inappropriately therapeutic approach to Rory's larceny. The big theft has been orchestrated by Stuhlbarg's conniving character with an assist from Molina's Richie, a Boston baker. Ving Rhames signs on as a tough Boston cop engaged by the mayor to retrieve a valuable piece of property taken during the heist. Damon and Affleck don't offer much by way of scintillating banter, and car chases through the streets of Boston add little excitement. The movie, releasing on AppleTV+,  does its best to load up on local Boston color, but the results are drab.

Major violence, small rewards -- and no saints

 

There Are No Saints wrapped in 2013 and evidently has taken its time finding a release date. Paul Schrader, who wrote the screenplay, reportedly planned to direct the movie which wound up in the hands of director Alfonso Pineda Ulloa. Schrader's involvement creates hope and expectation. Sin, violence, and the search for redemption ripple through Schrader’s work. Remember he wrote Taxi Driver and other movies for Martin Scorsese. Some of Schrader's concerns turn up No Saints, an over-the-top, overly violent story about a newly released convict (Jose Maria Yazpik) with scores to settle. Yazpik's character is known as "the Jesuit." Why? Like Jesuits during the Inquisition, Yazpik's Neto Niente is adept at torture.  Niente is drawn back into the criminal world when his son (Keidrich Sellati) is kidnapped and hauled off to Mexico at the behest of a major mobster. The supporting cast includes Tim Roth, as Niente's attorney, Paz Vega as Niente's ex-wife, and Shannyn Sossamon as a woman who accompanies Niente when his search extends into Mexico. Stoic and scary, Yazpik gives a no-nonsense performance and the rest of the cast, notably Neal McDonough as a mid-level drug dealer, and Ron Perlman, as the character pulling the plot strings, hit the right notes. There Are No Saints pulls no punches but its ending includes a harrowing (sickening would be another word for it) twist. To summarize: There Are No Saints may be too eager to play the down-and-dirty game and too thematically slim to find cinematic redemption. If you're looking for something recent by Schrader, try last year's Card Counter.

Was he a contender or a pretender?

Liev Schreiber scores a knock-out in a so-so boxing picture about Chuck Wepner, the reputed real Rocky Balboa.

If I were considering making a movie about Chuck Wepner, the obscure New Jersey boxer who rose to sudden prominence when he fought Muhammad Ali in 1975, the last person I'd think of to play Wepner would be Liev Schreiber. Wepner was a hulk of a man whose native Bayonne left him with a raspy Jersey accent. Schreiber, on the other hand, has one of the most melodic and precise voices in show business.

But something about Wepner evidently caught Schreiber's fancy because he not only stars as Wepner in the new movie Chuck but serves as one of the movie's producers.

Schreiber knew what he was doing. His portrayal of Wepner, a boxer who was treated as the Rodney Dangerfield of boxing (no respect) is spot-on. Wepner was dubbed "the Bayonne bleeder," not exactly a moniker to strike fear in the hearts of opponents.

Schreiber ably captures the struggle that marked much of Wepner's life: He wanted to be somebody important -- not just a guy many regarded as a Bayonne-based club fighter.

For Wepner, a loss to Ali became a triumph as well as the reputed inspiration for Sylvester Stallone's Rocky. Wepner made it all the way to the fight's 15th round before Ali finished him off. Most sports people thought Wepner wouldn't survive three rounds.

Wepner became a kind of fill-in fight for Ali after the champ's fabled Rumble In the Jungle with George Foreman. But Wepner, who actually had a respectable pro record, became one of the few men ever to knock Ali down, landing The Greatest on his butt in round nine.

Director Philippe Falardeau (The Good Lie and Monsieur Lazhar) sets Wepner's story against the well-defined Jersey backdrop that bred Wepner and his pal John (Jim Gaffigan). The two men drink, snort cocaine and party hard enough to ruin Wepner's marriage to his wife Phyliss (a terrific Elisabeth Moss).

Wepner later meets Linda (Naomi Watts), the woman credited with helping him straighten out his life after a stint in the slammer. Wepner was busted for cocaine possession about 10 years after his championship bout.

Additional support is provided by Ron Perlman, as Wepner's manager, and Michael Rapaport as Wepner's disapproving brother. Rapaport's John hated the way the increasingly dissolute Wepner treated his daughter. Wepner always seemed to be seeking public adulation rather than accepting the love of those closest to him.

Perhaps in an effort to distinguish his movie from Hollywood's large boxing-movie card, Falardeau puts the big fight in the middle of the movie, devoting most of the Chuck's post-fight story to Wepner's precipitous, self-induced decline.

At one point, Wepner meets Sylvester Stallone. I had trouble buying Morgan Spector as Stallone; Pooch Hall makes a more credible Ali, but these are minor distractions in a movie in which every actor works overtime trying to capture his or her inner Jersey.

None of this is to say that Chuck makes it through its 98-minute running time without being bloodied. We've seen too many movies about the way lives were ruined by drugs during the 1980s. We've also seen too many movies about the way a boxer reaches a peak and then squanders any success he might have achieved. The great distinction with Wepner is that his stature derived from a loss.

The movie also belabors Wepner's obsession with movies. His favorite: 1962's Requiem for a Heavyweight, which starred Anthony Quinn as Louis "Mountain'' Rivera, a down-and-out pug who spent his time clinging to a dream about what he could have been. When Rocky becomes a smash, Wepner totally identifies himself with the movie, so much so that he thinks he deserves congratulations when Rocky wins an Oscar for best picture.

Wepner's delusions are meant to be sad, but by now, we've seen so many boxing films that chart rises, declines and redemptions that the scenario feels played out, almost to the point where there's not enough film to support its many fine performances.

Still, Schreiber's knock-out work may be enough to carry you through the movie, and Moss, familiar from TV's Mad Men, again proves that she's one of the most capable actresses around. Her Phyliss is not a woman to be messed with.

So, a reserved endorsement for Chuck. Like its main character, the movie stumbles and lumbers, but manages to survive.