FILM REVIEW
MILLION DOLLAR BABY
Director: Clint Eastwood
Starring: Clint Eastwood, Hilary Swank, Morgan Freeman
Rating: PG
The movie ended and there was dead silence. No one shuffled their feet, or crumpled up a popcorn bag or reached for their coat. The credits started and still no one moved. Finally, someone got up and made for the door.
The lights and noise outside of the theatre seemed brighter and louder than they usually do - I guess Million Dollar Baby was a powerful film.
I don't like boxing movies. I don't like movies that end badly. I don't like movies in which the characters are played by old men and butch women. I didn't like this one. But it's a great movie.
Million Dollar Baby is about pain - physical pain, emotional pain and spiritual pain. Hilary Swank plays Maggie Fitzgerald, a tough woman who wants to be a boxer. The movie says it from the get go - Maggie is trash, and she knows it but wants to create something better for herself.
Fitzgerald goes to Frankie Dunn (Clint Eastwood) to train her. He wants nothing to do with a girl, especially one past her prime. Dunn knows about hurt, pain and failure as well. His daughter has cut him off, his best fighter leaves him, and his training gym is a dump. He doesn't train girls, but Fitzgerald and Eddie "Scrap-Iron" Dupris (Morgan Freeman) wear him down.
Fitzgerald goes on to win virtually every match she fights in the first round. She's unstoppable, she's brilliant, she's tough and she forms a friendship with Dupris and Dunn. She gives Dunn something to live for, and for the first time he believes in something.
There are some scenes in the movie that were painful to watch. I got nauseous, and felt sick to my stomach. I actually grimaced and gasped while watching. Part of the realism came from the skill of the actors, especially Swank, who managed to totally become Maggie Fitzgerald. I forgot Swank ever existed, and I forgot that horrible turn she did in as Rebecca Childs in The Core.
The film brings up some serious ethical questions and asks some tough stuff, like how to define living. It takes tragedy and doesn't try to turn it into victory. The characters don't necessarily heal their broken spirits, but they do learn to accept them and do what they can. I didn't leave the theatre in a great mood, but I wasn't crying (I did hear some sniffles from the audience though). The film frustrated me, irritated me and made my stomach turn, but I woke up the next morning thinking about it. How often can we say that after a trip to the movies?
