Movie Review: Ali (2001)

An earnest biopic of boxing's greatest championship, Ali captures the entertaining circus surrounding the man and the wider social context of his achievements, but not the essence of the human being.

Starting in 1964, and set against the backdrop of the turbulent 1960s and the rise of the Civil Rights movement, the story of Ali is told through a series of episodes capturing the key struggles of his life: his fight to change his name and be accepted as Muhammad Ali rather than Cassius Clay; his shady and prolonged relationship with the Nation of Islam and notorious leaders like Malcolm X; his various relationships with a succession of women; and his multi-year fight with the United States government after his refusal to be drafted into the army, a struggle which went all the way to the Supreme Court and robbed him of more than three prime fighting years.

Sprinkled amongst the personal history are excellent recreations of some of Ali's key bouts including, at age 22, his 1964 defeat of Sonny Liston to gain the world heavyweight title for the first time. The 1971 "fight of the century" against Joe Frazier also receives prominence, but more for the build-up rather than what happened inside the ring.

The final 45 minutes of Ali settle down to recount the tale of the epic Rumble in the Jungle, the 1974 fight and media event hyped by the flamboyant Don King and sponsored by President Mobutu in Kinshasa, Zaire, in which Ali adopted the rope-a-dope tactic and ultimately defeated the brutal George Foreman to regain his title.

Despite the film's length of close to 160 minutes, and an excellent Will Smith performance, Ali's core and motivations remain mostly hidden behind the superficialities. The well known quotes such as "your hands can't hit what your eyes can't see" and "float like a butterfly and sting like a bee" receive plenty of exposure, as does Ali's adamant rejection of the name Cassius Clay, on the basis that it was imposed on his family by a slaver. But otherwise, Ali's personality is reduced to endless taunting of his opponents, and an acknowledged lack of self control with the ladies. The origins of the fires that drove him to success and the building blocks of his personality and boxing talent are conspicuously absent.

Michael Mann directs with respect for his subject and plenty of patience to allow the key chapters of his life unfold, while Will Smith gets into Ali's skin and picks up his distinctive expressions and mannerisms. But the movie is hampered by the absence of any compelling secondary characters, the committee of four screenwriters having to pump-up sportscaster Howard Cossell (Jon Voight) into an unlikely main figure in Ali's career. Cornerman Drew Bundini Brown (Jamie Foxx) and Malcolm X (Mario Van Peebles) also receive undue attention without ever connecting, while Angelo Dundee (Ron Silver) unfortunately remains a peripheral figure.

Ali, much like its subject matter, enjoys many highlights and suffers through some lulls. The overall decision is a victory, but not quite a knock-out.

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Movie Review: Heartbreak Ridge (1986)

A character study movie requires a multi-faceted personality with subtleties of behaviour and perhaps some hidden secrets that can be probed for a couple of hours. Heartbreak Ridge focuses on Thomas Highway, an old-school Gunnery Sergeant with the Marine Corps who is as old fashioned and utterly predictable as they come. Highway would be the secondary role in most other war movies; building a story entirely around him is the equivalent of eating the icing in the absence of a cake.

Although he is an entertaining character, everything we need to know about Highway (Clint Eastwood, who also directs) we find out in the first 10 minutes. Battle hardened, frequently drunk, divorced, believes in the traditional military values, does not suffer fools, an expert in hand-to-hand combat, and quick with the one-liners, mostly to do with the hurt that he will lay on the next person to sneer in his face.

The problem is that the film has another two hours to kill, and spends the time entrenched in cliché land as Highway trains a group of misfits in a recon unit, with scenes alternating between poorly conceived comedy, macho fist fights to excite the young adolescents, and utter disrespect for the military. By the time the film completes it's depiction of the 1983 United States invasion of the tiny island of Grenada (population: 100,000), a war as unnecessary as this movie, the snarly line of dialogue about "ripping your head off and crapping down the hole" in all its variants has been repeated about a dozen times. Or so it feels.

Despite the character offering nothing new, Clint Eastwood is the only thing worth watching in Heartbreak Ridge, and he makes a valiant attempt to save the movie, his "Gunny" Highway hard as nails, spitting bullets, and unleashing equal torrents of hatred at his untested superiors and his slacker subordinates. There are a few clever moments, such as Highway's obsession with reading women's magazines to improve his soft side, and the film gains a few points for recreating the true story of American soldiers pinned by enemy fire during the Grenada invasion using a credit card to call collect for fire support.

Unfortunately the supporting roles are poorly developed, Marsha Mason suffering the most as Highway's ex-wife, with the script never bothering to reveal what she ever saw in the man nor shedding any light as to why she would ever consider going back to him. Mario Van Peebles is a laughably unreal wannabe guitar rock star Marine, and Everett McGill as Highway's commanding officer and chief nemesis is as stiff as a target board at the far end of the firing range.

In Clint Eastwood's stellar career as both actor and director, Heartbreak Ridge is a boorish misfire.

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