HD takes it one step further, one increment of clarity beyond.
Tools:
Recommend review to a friend »
Everybody's got a particular number of fights in him. Nobody tells you what that number is." --Morgan Freeman, "Million Dollar Baby"
When Warner Bros. announced that their first three titles in HD-DVD were going to be "The Last Samurai," "The Phantom of the Opera," and "Million Dollar Baby," I figured that "Phantom" would be the most pleasing on the eye, "Baby" the most pleasing as a film, and "Samurai" the best compromise between story line and visuals. That generalization still stands, now that I've seen all three films, although I have to admit that "Million Dollar Baby" contains some sharp visual images. More on the video later (or in a second if you skip the movie review that follows and go straight to the "Video" and "Audio" sections).
Those of you still annoyed that your favorite film, "The Shawshank Redemption," didn't garner any Oscars ten years earlier can rejoice in Clint Eastwood's 2004 Academy Award winner, "Million Dollar Baby." It's a melding of Frank Darabont's "Shawshank" and Eastwood's previous Oscar champion, "Unforgiven," with a winning combination of gentle humor, compassion, zeal, intensity, and, in the end, a whole lot of pathos.
If that combo sounds too good to be true, understand that "Million Dollar Baby" is really three movies in one. The first third is sweet, amiable, easy going; the middle third is tough, gritty, and exciting; and the final third gets very weighty and dramatic. Along with these episodes go a trio of characters you grow to love. So pick your film and pick your character; you're bound to find whatever you're looking for here.
Not that everything in the film works. Whereas director Eastwood tries to avoid too much sentimentality, he also manages to inject as many lovable stereotypes into the story as possible, a neat trick. Either that or scriptwriter Paul Haggis, borrowing from author F.X. Toole's "Rope Burns," puts the clichés there and Eastwood is more than willing to go along with them. In any case, the film's only serious flaw is the turning point on which hangs the fate of the final section of the movie; it's a virtually impossible incident in a real-world setting, a series of fouls in a boxing match that simply never would have been allowed to continue without an instant disqualification. But Eastwood's affable familiarity with these minor drawbacks pulls him and the movie through to a jolting but highly satisfactory conclusion. So, it's one of those movies where even though the characters are clichéd and the script is weak on believability, the acting and direction are so good, they carry the day.
In the film, Eastwood plays a crusty old boxing trainer, Frankie Dunn, who owns a dilapidated gym that attracts the usual assortment of distinctive characters. Frankie is little more than William Munny from "Unforgiven," grown a little older and little more grizzled, but ever the morally compromised man with wrongs in his past that he is yet trying to right. Eastwood speaks in a hushed tone, through his teeth, almost in a whisper, as though he has been through so much he can hardly talk anymore. Nor does he have many folks to talk to except his best friend, Eddie "Scrap-Iron" Dupris (Morgan Freeman).
Eddie lives in a tiny back room in the gym, which he takes care of for Frankie. Eddie and Frankie have known each other a long time, since the days they worked together, Frankie as a cut man and Eddie as a professional fighter. Now, they've both fallen on hard times, but they still have each other. It's Freeman who does what he does best here: he portrays a decent, dead-honest, compassionate guy. And he narrates the story in a voice-over one could listen to all by itself. Is there really anybody in movies today with a better voice than Freeman? It's so wholesome, warm, friendly, strong, and reassuring, you want to elect him President. Or at the least Governor of California.
So, Frankie and Eddie are getting along just fine in their little gym in the middle of nowhere when in walks Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank), a waitress with a yen to box. She's a woman from a trailer park with nothing in her life--no money, no education, no future, no husband, no lover, and no family of any respect. She figures the one thing she can do better than anybody else of her gender is box, and she comes to Frankie for lessons.
Frankie wants no part of her or the idea. He's an old-time male chauvinist, for one thing, and doesn't think much of women's boxing. Nor does he think much of Maggie starting a boxing career at an age, over thirty, when most boxers, male or female, are already past their prime. Nor does he think much of himself and his ability to teach her anything, although he would never admit this.
But she wears him down, and we figure we're in for another "Rocky." Well, not quite. Of course, we see Maggie rise in the boxing ranks, but then, as I said earlier, the movie takes an unexpected turn, a shift that undoubtedly gained the movie much of its following and many of its awards.
The three principal actors in the film earned Oscar nominations for their roles, with only Eastwood losing. But the fact that they were all singled out for acclaim is honor enough. Maybe the characters they play are a mite hackneyed; still, they are endearing and common to all of us. As my DVDTown colleague Eddie Feng pointed out to me, it's only the figure of the slow-witted Danger Barch (Jay Baruchel) who appears to be an unnecessary distraction, a hanger-on at the gym whose one function seems to be to fill out a quotient of colorful characters. Yet, like others in the story--the heavyweight prospect, Big Willie Little (Mike Colter); the hotshot young boxer, Shawrelle Berry (Anthony Mackie); the long-suffering priest, Father Howak (Brian O'Byrne); the underhanded champ, Billie "The Blue Bear" (real-life fighter Lucia Rijker)--the viewer may find that even Danger may serve a deeper purpose as the tale progresses.
Eastwood's direction gets better as the years go by. Many directors get soft or routine as they get older; Eastwood keeps improving. His use of lighting, shading, and shadows, coupled with his own profoundly expressive musical score do more than enough to create mood or atmosphere on their own. To say nothing of his willingness to linger over a shot or extend a scene. His seemingly leisurely approach to filmmaking is never lax, and while it may appear old-fashioned in this era of quick cutting and flash editing, it, too, helps to establish a believable tone.
Anyway, the movie is about fights and wounds and healings, beginnings and endings, that are not only physical but mental, psychological, spiritual. It's about heart and talent and the need for both. It's about believing in yourself and others. It's about taking risks and daring to make something of them. It's about second chances. It's about feeling. It's a heartbreaker, and it's damned good.
Incidentally, you've no doubt heard about the controversy that has swirled around the film. There are those critics of "Million Dollar Baby" who have convinced themselves, and are trying to convince others, that there is some sort of hidden agenda in the movie's outcome. Eastwood himself has professed no ulterior meaning or message, and judging by his most recent comments he seems genuinely perplexed and dismayed by the whole flap. In any case, what we have in the film is a fictional character making a difficult decision, one that the viewer may or may not agree with. But remember, it's a film; it's not a political declaration or a social treatise. Characters in literature and movies do things we disagree with all the time, and it doesn't necessarily mean the author or the filmmaker is trying to sway our personal beliefs one way or another. Clearly, Eastwood's critics believe that you're either for them or against them, that life is filled with only black-and-white decisions, and that you'd better make the right (meaning their) decision or you're the enemy. Just as clearly, the film takes no stands on any issue; it just presents things and says "This is what happened." If anything, Eastwood seems to be suggesting that life's problems are most often painted in shades of gray. The story is clearly impassioned, yet it never romanticizes its subject matter by oversimplifying it, and this makes for a more powerful film in the process. What more can I say. Deal with it.
Video:
I thought the anamorphic picture quality on the standard-definition disc looked every bit as good as I remembered it from a motion-picture theater, maybe better. In high definition (1080), it probably is better, given that the theater I saw the movie in was showing a print they had probably shown dozens or more times before. The HD screen measures close to the movie's original 2.40:1 aspect ratio. The movie is darker than I remembered it from two previous viewings, often purposely dingy, down and dirty, setting the atmosphere with blacks and blues and greens, the colors of bruises. I'm not sure that the inside of a gym and a fight ring, the primary settings for this film, are prime subjects for high-definition viewing, but they certainly come across clearly.
Average user rating (1-5):
[release]18592[/release]