Cinderella Man

I watched the excellent movie Cinderella Man this weekend. I saw it in the theater when it was originally released, but after meeting the main character's real-life grandson at a party a couple of weeks ago, my interest was piqued, and I decided it was time to see it again.

Cinderella Man is based on the true story of James Braddock, a Depression-era, down-on-his-luck boxer who makes an amazing comeback, capturing the boxing championship from Max Baer. (Somebody please explain to me the thrill of boxing! I find it hard to believe that God is pleased when two of His image bearers climb into a ring [which is actually rectangular shaped] with the ultimate goal of knocking an opponent unconscious by repeated blows to the head and abdomen. Perhaps I'm oversimplifying, but I definitely digress!) Aside from the boxing context, this is storytelling at its finest, and Russell Crowe proves to be more than a pretty face as he masterfully plays the half-starved, world-weary Braddock.

So many themes weave themselves throughout the story, but one that stood out to me as I watched was the question of what it is that makes a man manly. It becomes clear that to the storyteller, what a man is, is not necessarily what he does. Although he has proven himself to be a skilled boxer, Braddock does not exude the machismo, brutish, violent sensibilities often associated with the sport's champions. A gentle man, Braddock clearly values his wife and children above all, and he will do what it takes to meet their needs with integrity and dignity. In fact, the only time Braddock shows anger in the course of the film is when his wife--of necessity--sends their three children to stay with relatives. The electricity has been turned off because the Braddocks have not had enough money to pay the bill for several months, the children are sick, and what else could she do? Braddock swallows his pride, goes to the local government assistance office, and gets about half of what he needs to pay the bill. To collect the other half, he goes to the sportsmen's club where he once was lauded as a boxing hero, explains the situation to the financially comfortable men there, and, hat in hand, goes around the room collecting the rest of what he needs to bring his children home. And Crowe portrays all of this in such a way that the viewer feels respect--not pity or disgust--for a man who is clearly doing what he would rather not do for the well-being of his family.

Toward the end of the movie, an obvious contrast is drawn between Baer and Braddock. Baer was known for having "legally" killed two men in the ring with his powerful punch, and he intends to make Braddock the third. Baer is everything Braddock is not: physically huge, arrogant, with an obvious blood lust--a beast. Again, the financial gain that Braddock will earn for his family from this fight--win or lose--makes him willing to put his life on the line. The evening before the big fight, Braddock and his wife are treated to dinner in an elegant New York restaurant. Baer enters with his entourage of women and fans just as Braddock and his wife are stashing leftovers in her purse to take home to the children. In a spirit of sportsmanship, Braddock approaches Baer to wish him well. Baer responds by taunting Braddock, threatening him with certain death. As Braddock's wife approaches, Baer makes lewd comments about how he will be the one to comfort her when Braddock is gone. May Braddock picks up the nearest glass from the counter and throws it in Baer's face in response. As Braddock and his wife leave, Baer shouts one last taunt, "Got your wife fighting for you, Braddock?" What follows is now my favorite moment in the movie: All becomes quiet, Braddock slowly turns to face Baer, and in a few brief seconds, Crowe reflects with his face all the possible responses he might give here. After a pregnant pause, Braddock smiles widely and says, "Yeah--ain't she somethin'?" And again the storyteller shows us a superior man, one who conducts himself with dignity, self-respect, and discipline.

So what makes a man manly? One who can kill another with a single blow? One who could weather the financial storms of the Depression with money and comfort? This movie shows us that what makes a man manly is his character--his love for his family, his willingness to sacrifice himself for their good, one who is honest, self-disciplined, and conducts himself with dignity in all circumstances.