The Oscar Project #77: Million Dollar Baby (2004)

by Chris Marshall:

For years I had virtually no interest in seeing Million Dollar Baby, and I don’t know why. It’s (kind of) a boxing movie, it has Clint Eastwood in it, and it was almost universally beloved by critics. But for whatever reason, I could just never summon up enough enthusiasm to watch it.

That was a mistake. Like Unforgiven before it, Clint Eastwood again delivered a magnificent film, buoyed by the performances of its three stars: Eastwood, Morgan Freeman, and most importantly, Hilary Swank. Swank was only five years removed from her breakout performance in Boys Don’t Cry, for which she won Best Actress. This time, as the up and coming boxer Maggie Fitzgerald, she would win it again. Freeman, for his role as retired boxer Scrap Iron Dupris, finally won his first Academy Award.

So yeah, I really liked this movie, even though a great deal of its last act has been spoiled for me many times over. I won’t reveal it here, except to say that a sense of dread hung over me the entire time I was watching. I knew it was going to happen, but I didn’t know when, so every fight was tinged with anxiety.

I guess that’s a testament to how well the film was put together and acted. I actually cared about these characters, and I wanted the best for them. Shades of Rocky pervaded the entire movie, and not just because they’re both about boxers. Both Rocky Balboa and Maggie Fitzgerald have had tough lives—reasonable enough, as the vast majority of boxers come from working class backgrounds—and neither has a natural aptitude for the more technical aspects of the sport. Oh, and they’re both southpaws; I noticed that Maggie uses a lefty stance while hitting the heavy bag near the beginning.

But the main characteristic that ties them both together is their heart. They’re both driven by something, something impossible to explain in any tangible terms. It’s not just a will to win boxing matches. It’s a will to succeed in life, to move on to something better than what they’ve had their entire lives.

There’s no love story in Million Dollar Baby, at least not in the romantic sense. But the affection that Frankie and Maggie have for one another is very real. It comes immediately for Maggie and more grudgingly for Frankie, but by the end of the movie, there is no doubt how they feel about each other. Quite a turnaround for a guy whose catch phrase seems to be “I don’t train girls.”

Maggie’s rise to success is swift, with very few roadblocks along the way. In men’s boxing, this kind of rapid rise would strain credulity, but in the women’s field, which is much newer and contains much less depth, it is believable enough. Put together Maggie’s desire and Frankie’s training skills, and you could have formidable fighter before you know it. She tears through the first several fights of her career in a fashion that would make Mike Tyson jealous. With nobody left willing to fight her, she moves up a weight class.

The downside to being a pro boxer.

Here she finally faces adversity, suffering a broken nose before righting the ship and knocking out her opponent. Eventually, at long last, she gets a title shot, and it begins to look like she will be the fighter to deliver what Frankie has always wanted: a champion. I won’t go any further than that in describing the plot. It’s more fun to enjoy it for yourself. 

I should point out that the movie is not perfect, however. In particular, the boxer at Frankie’s gym known as “Danger” (Jay Baruchel) was particularly grating. I’ve never previously had any problem with the actor, who has mostly shown up in supporting roles in comedies throughout his career. It’s just that, while The Oscar Project has had a history with bad Southern accents, his was the worst. And compounding the problem was that he didn’t serve any purpose in the film other than comic relief. Or am I missing some kind of symbolism/deeper meaning here? Somebody help me out.

A final note concerning Scrap Iron Dupris: As many of my readers know, I had the opportunity to meet Morgan Freeman on a couple of occasions, the first of which took place in August of 2004 and the second in November 2004. Little did I know then that he would win an Oscar a few months later! As strange and uncomfortable as my conversation with him was, it was still pretty cool to see him accept his award, knowing I’d talked to him so recently.

As I write this, I’m preparing to watch Crash, which will be my last previously-unseen Best Picture winner. I’m totally expecting the worst—does any winner in recent memory have a worse reputation?—but regardless of how it turns out, a critical part of this journey will be over.