| I don't know what's more shocking: How bad
Clint Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby is or how amazingly/mind-blowingly
positive everyone else's reaction has been. To listen to the
film's supporters, it's a strong character study about people
who looks familiar from the sports genre that grow until Eastwood
takes them in unpredictable places. The film ends with Eastwood
venturing into a fierce and powerful subject this normally
stays unmarked by most American filmmakers. This is an artistic
landmark, they pronounce, for a film icon who has nothing
as powerful in his cannon. For me, Million Dollar Baby
is a film that begins as a cliche-ridden boxing movie
replete with Grizzled Veteran and Scrappy Underdog that confuses
character quirks for character mechanics. And instead of remaining
a genre film that could possibly bring depth to the people
and their predicament, the film violently and sloppily shifts
into a completely different film. A socially conscience film
with the liberal heart one could only expect from the Californian
Republican. This new film known as the last thirty minutes
of Million Dollar Baby looks and feels nothing like
the film that preceded it. Instead, this feels more like Eastwood
getting caught cheating. His conviction with this material
and his arttistic force suggests this is what Eastwood wanted
to make all along. He just didn't have the guts to put it
out front. He labors through a paint-by-number sports movie,
turns to tragedy, and critics takes the bait by saying that
Eastwood built the characters carefully and deliberately.
While parts are compelling, the ultimate product is a dud
hoping to skate by on the desired likeable of everyone involved.
Frankie Dunn (Eastwood) was "one of the great cut men
in the ring." This according to Million Dollar Baby's
narrator, Eddie Scrap-Iron Dupris (Morgan Freeman whose
voice drags over a gravel driveway). Dupris goes on to tell
a story of how Dunn advised a cocksure young fighter to build
up some energy during a fight in order to avoid losing an
eye. Since Dupris later describes himself as a one-eyed ex-boxer,
we assume he was talking about himself. And that Dupris did
not take Dunn's advice. Dupris now serves as a quasi-samuri/janitor
for Dunn's boxing club in Los Angeles. Dupris doesn't do much
in the film besides the incidental narration. Don't take my
word for it: On Inside the Actor's Studio, James
Lipton recently asked Freeman to describe his character in
Million Dollar Baby. Instead of giving an inspired
answer anticipated by a nearly ejaculating Lipton, Freeman
says "he mops the floor and sometimes cleans the toilets."
Freeman knows his place in the film, sadly for him and the
audience. Dupris and Dunn banter about other boxers and miscellaneous
issues of gym management, but Eastwood and Freeman mumble
their line readings so much that they ound like two grizzly
bears. Shimes suggests that theatre owners turn up the overall
volume but temper the bass because one won't understand what
the hell either one of them is saying. Dunn runs a gym populated
by wacky characters in the day like Danger Barch (Jay Baruchel),
a sorta-retarded Irishman who is probably quipping about something
Irish if he could be understood. Die-hard defenders of this
film are hard-pressed to explain how this weird stereotype-hybrid
character merits his screen time. At night, the gym and filled
with ominous shadows that suggest a dark and scary past for
its owner. But those dark shadows do most of the work where
the script slacks. We learn that Dunn has a daughter that
won't return the letters he sends every week. We learn that
Dunn questions his faith and pesters Father Horvak (Brian
O'Byrne), a local priest who uses the f- word at Dunn in frustration
and suggests that Dunn stop attending Mass. If I were the
Catholic Church administration, I might suggest this guy start
screwing altar boys as a way of blowing steam as opposed to
squashing church attendance. But I digress. Dunn also studies
Gaelic and reads Yates. I like to think that I understand
how things like this play into the role of a character but
these two points kind of have me stumped. The film, on the
other hand, treats Dunn's hobbies as incidental and common
place. As though a gym owner would have nothing else to do
but study Gaelic in his spare time. Maybe he's wise? Boring?
Just an ill-conceived literary device? Who knows.
Once all of this nuance is established, in walks Maggie Fitzgerald
(Hillary Swank). Fitzgerald is a 31-year old waitress from
Theodosia, Missouri who dreams of becoming a boxing champ.
As a side note, I damned near choked on my Miller Light when
I heard Dupris say "Theodosia" in his narration.
Theodosia is a dump populated by a couple hundred people just
east of Branson that no human being should ever had heard
of, let alone write into a screenplay. This is not as exciting
as Jason Bourne being from Nixa, but us native Ozarkians will
take whatever notoriety we can get. Fitzgerald struts into
the gym, starts calling Dunn "boss", and expects
that he will turn her into a prizefighter. Dunn has other
ideas. He "won't train no girl" and dismisses her
proud pronouncements with his mantra: "Tough ain't enough."
It's simple and gruff, like "make my day" or "ya
feel lucky punk?" Why, Dunn even has a "Tough Ain't
Enough" placard over his door ready-made for the office-inspiration
market. But since the audience knows that Dunn longs for a
father-daughter relationship, it only takes a little prodding
from Dupris for Dunn to take Fitzgerald under his wing. Through
a series of training montages ('We're gonna need a montage
to show a lot of improvement in a little bit of time!"),
we see Fitzgerald's gradual progress. And to her credit, Swank
looks like she could kick some serious ass. She reportedly
trained six hours a day for six months for this look. No wonder
her husband is crying all of the time. Dunn determines she's
good enough to fight, so we get treated to a boxing montage
("She keeps getting better and BETTER in a montage!")
where Fitzgerald plays up the Irish name and knocks out opponent
after opponent. Fitzgerald gets tempted to drop Dunn as her
manager from an unlikely source in bit of badly-needed dramatic
nastiness that is forgotten almost as soon as the film brings
it up. Everything seems to be going great. Dunn lets his gruffness
down a bit and decides he finds Fitzgerald to be quite plucky.
But since we know Million Dollar Baby is a "character
study" and not a sports movie, this warm and fuzzy sensation
cannot last.
Sure enough, Million Dollar Baby's third act is
ushered in by a tragic event. I can't tell you what this tragic
event is but I will give you two hints that Warner Brother's
PR department could not possibly object. First, it deals with
a hot-button social issue that challenges people's faith and/or
their politics. And two, this subject pops up in a European
counterpart also released this season. Could it be abortion
as seen in Vera Drake? Don't count out something
anti-war like A Very Long Engagement. This event
changes the tone and the style of the film. Gone are the noir-ish
shadows and and fancy visuals. What Eastwood falls back to
is a very bright look with his trademark, straightforward
technique. All of the characters involved at this point now
have to make tough choices. All of Dunn's question of faith
are thrown out the window and it's decision-making time. This
is the payoff for the "character development". Dunn
makes his decision, Eastwood makes his point, and Million
Dollar Baby ends. But this feels disingenuous and and
cheap. It should not either since Eastwood clearly has a strong
opinion about this subject and doesn't flinch with portraying
it once he gets there. But that's the first problem: "once
he gets there." Eastwood nearly films an
entirely different movie before he gets to Million Dollar
Baby's point. It's almost as though Eastwood was too
timid or uncertain about his storytelling abilities to be
up- front and make the film he wants to make. Because he clearly
is not sold on the boxing flick he puts in front. Eastwood's
best quality as a director is the ability to keep the film
simple even if the subject and the character relationships
are complicated. Look at last year's multi layered tragedy
Mystic River as an example. The first two-thirds
of Million Dollar Baby is overly artsy with too many
camera movements and shadow tricks designed to cover up the
weak material. And the material is weak since these characters
are nothing more than stereotypes waiting for the next plot
point. Dunn's Grizzled Veteran is a little too gruff who's
a little too willing to throw around his cinema-friendly bits
of barking wisdom. Fitzgerald is written as one of those scrappy,
green underdogs with very broad strokes. She's a little too
optimistic and sun-shiny to be a nearly evicted, over-the-hill
waitress from Southwest Missouri. When she and Dunn actually
head to Theodosia, her family is a nasty, money-grubbing replete
with toothless smiles and bare feet. And this is even by the
Theodosian standards of backwards. Dupris is a little too
Enlightened to be a Minority Servant. My point is that a character
study cannot make its characters this broad and obvious if
it expects the audience to connect emotionally, especially
when Eastwood takes the story where it concludes.
That's why I don't buy the film as a cohesive whole. Eastwood
knew where the film was going and wanted to get there as quick
as possible. But that's where Eastwood paints himself into
a corner. Since he was afraid to make an entire film about
this subject, he turns a molehill into a cliched mountain.
He makes us suffer through this lame sports movie and then
runs out of time and doing a huge disservice to his ultimate
point. Like the characters of Million Dollar Baby, the
moral dilemma is so broad and obvious that the decision makes
itself. There's no real tension or conflict because the situation
is so horrific and the conclusion is telegraphed from the
beginning of the third act. The European film on this subject
(Hotel Rwanda is probably a bad guess) uses the same
morals and the same circumstances and creates a story that
is truly gut-retching and puzzling. Eastwood presents this
complicated issue as black and white. The European director
(Pedro?) sees nothing but gray and wrestles the audience's
pre-conceived notions to the mat. This is too bad because
the effort Eastwood puts into portraying the pain and suffering
of these moments shows that the subject means quite a bit
to him. I only wish filmmaking tenacity matched his ideological
grounding. There are things to find admirable about the film,
particularly Swank. Her physical transformation and third-act
emoting will probably land the very young actress a second
Best Actress Oscar. I don't think she deserves it but her
presence in the film certainly won't irk me if she does.The
film also has a nice lived-in feeling that Eastwood specializes.
But critics - particularly my homies at the KCFCC - have given
themselves back pains praising the film. They talk about Eastwood
as though he's never directed a good movie. Like Mystic
River or Unforgiven or the ground-breaking Play
Misty for Me never happened. Hell, I still cite A
Perfect World as the most underrated film of the 1990's.
These critics treat Eastwood like he's the retard who deserves
a cookie. This is unfair and misguided. And it surely will
win the 2004 Best Picture. But it's still a character study
that mistakes types for people. That sees conflict as broadly
drawn. That sees complicated social issues as wishy-washy
political fodder. Million Dollar Baby ultimately
confuses good intentions with good drama. The result is a
film that you want to believe, but you just can't respect.
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