15. “Girlfight” (2000)
As far as female-centric boxing films go, “Girlfight” usually gets knocked out of discussions thanks to a certain Oscar juggernaut we’ll be talking about in a bit, but, like much of today’s actual boxing, there’s a fair degree of unfairness that goes along with that. It’s a film made 4 years earlier, which highlights the gritty realism of women struggling against the odds in a male-dominated sport, while underlining its underdog status in more ways than one. A remarkably raw feature debut by writer-director Karyn Kusama (who is still trying to defy expectations she created with this film), and one of the fiercest acting debuts of recent times in the form, shape, and skill of Michelle Rodriguez, “Girlfight” is the story of Diana Guzman, a troubled teen who gets into school fights with bitchy girls and ends up training to become a professional boxer. She achieves things the men around her, including an abusive father and a reluctant coach, never thought possible for a woman. Coming years before Hilary Swank laced her gloves, Rodriguez, thanks to the independent nature of her own film, didn’t reach Swank’s Oscar glory, but she rightly won enough indie awards to stuff a duffle bag with. Still, we feel “Girlfight” doesn’t get the proper cred it deserves, mostly because it stands toe-to-toe with most male-led boxing films as much as female-led ones.
14. “Creed” (2015)
With the sheer number of them being made at the moment, statistical probability suggests there should be more than one boxing movie from the last couple of years to make this list. But there’s really just the one. Ryan Coogler’s “Creed” in no way reinvents the “Rocky” wheel, but it’s delivered with such grace and craft and sincerity that it makes us feel like there might be life in the old underdog story yet. Focusing on Adonis (Michael B. Jordan), the son of Rocky Balboa’s former opponent and pal Apollo Creed, with Stallone’s veteran boxer moving into a training role, Coogler and co-writer Aaron Covington brings the same authenticity and clarity to the script that marked out his promising debut “Fruitvale Station,” and then shoots it with a surpassing sense of vitality and freshness, despite the familiarity of most of the story beats. Also a terrific calling card for DP Maryse Alberti (“The Wrestler,” “Freeheld,” “West of Memphis“) who appears elsewhere on this list as one of the credited DPs on “When We Were Kings,” “Creed” is a studio movie with a restlessly independent aesthetic that brings both the muscularity and the sensitivity of the boxing genre to new life. All of which then culminates in that spectacular one-take Steadicam boxing match in which the choreography of the actors and the camera becomes dancelike in its precision, and bruising in its immediacy.
13. “The Harder They Fall” (1956)
Forever destined to be remembered as the film that features Humphrey Bogart‘s final screen performance, “The Harder They Fall” has plenty to offer besides an intimidatingly magnetic Bogey in the twilight of his legendary career. For one, there’s a deliciously villainous performance by Rod Steiger as the bent boxing promoter Nick Benko, who hires Bogart’s journalist Eddie Willis to write about his newest prize fighter, Argentine soft giant Toro (Mike Lane, a professional wrestler delivering a heartfelt performance here). Then there are the memorable turns by real-life boxers, Max Baer (yes, the same Baer who famously went down to James “Cinderella Man” Braddock) and Jersey Joe Walcott. Most of all, though, “The Harder They Fall” remains one the greatest film noir boxing films to address the unfortunate circumstances that come with the sport head-on: fight fixing. Director Mark Robson‘s deft appreciation of this sleazy side is decently complemented by Philip Yordan‘s biting screenplay, but it all, ultimately, comes back to the face of film noir, Humphrey Bogart. Battling cancer off-screen as sternly as he battles boxing corruption on-screen, Bogart is visibly ailing but still manages to deliver a hair-raising turn, full of the bottled zest that made him such a giant of the screen.
12. “Body and Soul” (1947)
The corruption that follows fame and success into the boxing ring reaches great artistic heights in Robert Rossen‘s 1947 classic “Body and Soul.” John Garfield was nominated for an Oscar for his portrayal of Charlie Davis, a talented fighter who goes against his mother’s wishes (Anne Revere, exuding a magnetic timelessness through her stoic performance), and becomes a prizefighting champion. Charlie alienates the people who care about him the most while sinking deeper into the pockets of shady racketeers, and gradually begins to realize that his calling in life has eroded his humanity. Meanwhile, the fortitude displayed by Rossen’s camera, Abraham Polonsky‘s screenplay, the ensemble performances, and Robert Parish‘s Oscar-winning editing — every close up is a meticulously-timed jab to the heart — build up towards a cathartic climax unlike any seen in boxing films, before or since. Garfield’s expression after that final fight is devastating stuff, where the titular ‘soul’ has that “pure cinema” vibe of palpable transcendence. Widely considered to be the first truly great film about boxing, almost 70 years later “Body and Soul” comes off charismatically old fashioned but eternally emotive in its core, and an unforgettable cinematic experience.
11. “Requiem for a Heavyweight” (1962)
Another tale of the tape that measures the emotional dimensions of the manager-fighter relationship is this 1962 boxing ballad. Rod Sterling rose to fame after writing the teleplay, and whether the TV version with Jack Palance is better than the feature film Ralph Nelson directed with Anthony Quinn is a debate that has an infinite number of rounds. Whatever your result, “Requiem For A Heavyweight” is a vigorous and vital display of what the sport does to the body and soul. Quinn is sensational, breathing jagged life into the staggering, mumbling, Quasimodo of boxing, Luis “The Mountain” Rivera. He tries to assimilate into society with the help of cut man Army (Mickey Rooney) and social worker Grace (Julie Harris), much to the chagrin of his manager and best friend Maish (Jackie Gleeson) who is deep in the pockets of local gangster Ma Greeney (Madame Spivy). Apart from having a gangster squad led by a female in the 1960s (seriously, kudos!), Nelson’s version most crucially differs from the TV version in the ending; a riveting display of broken friendship and hair-raising humiliation. The entire ensemble is razor sharp, Quinn and Gleeson most especially, and the film is also justly famous for its opening which features one Cassius Clay, playing himself before he became Muhammad Ali. It flies under the radar these days, but we urge you to seek it out.
