“The Smashing Machine” gave Dwayne Johnson the chance to prove he’s an actor of consequence.
He passed the test, but there’s a problem. MMA star Mark Kerr’s life lacked the dramatic twists that power the best sports biopics.
Female boxing legend Christy Martin overdelivers on that front.
“Christy” offers so much more to explore, from attempts to broaden boxing’s appeal to domestic violence and, ultimately, Survival 101.
“Christy” doesn’t radically tinker with the biopic mold, but the story’s dramatic heft and an impressive turn by Sydney Sweeney, make it a superior experience to Johnson’s “Machine.”
Sweeney’s Christy Salters stumbles into her future profession. She’s discovered after an amateur boxing match and is soon paired with an unsavory trainer, played to perfection by Ben Foster. That’s Jim Martin, a mediocre boxing mind with a chip on his shoulder as obvious as his combover.
Jim shapes Christy into a credible boxer, but along the way manages to woo her into his bedroom. That’s no small order, given that Christy is a lesbian, albeit one willing to hide that part of her life.
Christy’s rise to the top of her sport won’t be easy, but not just for the usual reasons. Women’s boxing wasn’t a draw in the 1990s. Heck, boxing in general continues to linger in the UFC’s shadow.
Still, her scrappy style, WWE-style pageantry and grit could make her famous. At worst, she’s a novelty act of the first order. Could her duplicitous family stall her success? What if Jim beats them to it?
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Sweeney hasn’t tackled a role as challenging as Christy Martin to date, but she never looks overmatched by the material. She’s credible inside the ring and out, unwilling to play up to any Big, Oscar-Bait moments. No scenery chewing, thank you.
Christy’s humble nature makes it hard to pinpoint her character at first, and Sweeney rolls with that assignment. Is she a battered soul overmatched by life? A woman fighting to escape her family’s lack of empathy?
What drives her to train so hard despite the odds?
Sweeney’s performance slowly unlocks the mystery, something that takes time but is worth the effort.
Foster, all coiled rage and insecurity, is perfectly cast as the film’s villain. If anything, the screenplay by director David Michod and spouse Mirrah Foulkes could have shown him in a more sympathetic light, at least on occasion, to seal their curious deal.
Even more frustrating? Christy’s Mom (Merritt Wever), who lacks a single dimension beyond parental disappointment.
Smaller roles spike the story at just the right time. Boxing impresario Don King (Chad L. Coleman) promises to make Christy a star mid-movie, but the film doesn’t sugarcoat his predatory style. Katy O’Brian offers an intriguing contrast as one of Christy’s most notable opponents, a figure who looms larger in the story as Christy’s personal life crumbles.
The boxing sequences aren’t as elaborate or focused as most sports biopics, and that’s likely for the best. The focus here is Christy’s journey, and the real-life drama behind her marriage makes for a consequential third act.
Women’s boxing may never break out as a cultural institution, but that doesn’t detract from what Sweeney and co. achieve with “Christy.”
HiT or Miss: “Christy” is a warts-and-all biopic powered by a sly, understated turn by Sydney Sweeney.