Fight film scores a knockout
Cinderella Man

Directed by Ron Howard; Universal Pictures; PG-13

In the depths of the Depression, the apostle Paul's promise would have sounded pretty hollow to ex-boxer Jim Braddock (Russell Crowe).

Reduced to living in a slum hovel and begging on the docks for one-day jobs, Braddock says to his wife Mae (Renee Zellweger) as she prays over their meager meal, "I'm all prayed out." As a man who loves his wife and children but cannot feed or clothe them, he has had all the testing a man can endure.

Five years earlier, in 1928, he had been on a roll of knockout victories and was being touted by the press as a soon-to-be challenger for the heavyweight boxing championship. Then came the stock market crash, in which the Braddocks, along with millions of other Americans, lost all their investments. Desperately trying to keep from losing their house, Braddock fought too often—often while injured.

After a long series of losses he was reduced to fighting with a broken hand, eventually looking so bad in the ring that his boxing license was revoked. He wound up in the slums, unable to support his family. When the Braddocks' electricity is cut off for non-payment in the middle of the winter, and two of their three children become so ill that Mae fears for their lives, she sends them away to live with better-off relatives.

After a day of backbreaking work, Jim returns home and is furious to discover that his children are gone. He feels especially guilty because he assured his oldest son, who'd seen neighbor children being sent away, that he'd never do such a thing. Now, swallowing his pride, he goes to the relief office for welfare money, then to Madison Square Garden, where he seeks out his former boxing cronies. Haltingly, he describes his situation, and asks for help. And is greeted by awkward silence.

Crowe's face at this point burns with frustration and humiliation. The scene reminded me of Paul's description in Philippians 2:5 of Christ's "emptying" himself.

Finally, one by one, the hard-boiled men chip in. Braddock's former manager Joe Gould (Paul Giamatti) makes sure he gets enough to pay the electric bill. The subsequent reunion of parents and children is joyful.

How Braddock rises again to the top of his profession—and is dubbed "the Cinderella Man" by famed writer Damon Runyon—makes for exciting and inspirational viewing. I hate boxing as a sport (in which one's purpose is to so injure an opponent that he—or she—can no longer function); but I must admit that it has been at the heart of some terrific films.

These films—think Rocky, The Champ and Million Dollar Baby—almost always involve an underdog struggling against tremendous odds. These stories of redemption—which may remind us that, throughout Scripture, God takes the side of the underdog—are constructed on a grain of truth: Through the years, the boxing ring has proven a way for a small number of racial and ethnic athletes to escape the soul-numbing poverty of the slums.

The boxing scenes in Cinderella Man are brutally graphic, so the film is not for everyone. However, as a story of what a man will do for love of family, it's about as good as a film can be.

—Edward McNulty

The universe of Star Wars, unlike that of most sci-fi films (and most other Hollywood films for that matter), is not mechanistic, but spiritual. The Jedi knights, sworn to protect the freedom of the Galactic Republic, know the ways of the Force. The Force is a far cry from the God of Abraham and Moses (despite the misguided attempts of some Christians to allegorize the first Star Wars series), but it is a beginning on the road to faith.

How Anakin Skywalker is persuaded by the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic to forsake the side of his fellow Jedi Knights to go over to "the dark side" of the Force makes for engrossing viewing.

There is plenty of eye-catching action in space and duels with light sabers to please young viewers, and enough development of the dark path Anakin will follow until he ends up as the cruel Darth Vader, scourge of the forces of freedom—and, as was surprisingly revealed in The Empire Strikes Back, the father of the heroes of the first series, Luke and Leia.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre and A Simple Plan offer more detailed and subtle portrayals of the Temptation and Fall, but Lucas's film appeals to a vastly larger (and younger) audience. Parents and church leaders would do well to take advantage of all the excitement surrounding the film's release to explore important issues of faith and morals. (I should add that parents who have young children should see the PG-13 rated film before deciding whether to take them.)

—Edward McNulty

Presbyterians committed to opposing racism shouldn't miss director Paul Haggis's complex, challenging film symbolically titled Crash. The ensemble cast is a virtual mini-United Nations of characters—African-American, Asian, Caucasian, Hispanic (in Puerto Rican and flavors) and Persian (not to be confused with "Arab"!). Some characters are well aware of their prejudices, but many are not. "Good" people sometimes do terrible things, and people we judge "bad" commit unexpected acts of grace.

This film is a series of vignettes: A young black man complains that a white woman he passes on the street looks fearful—then he and a friend give the woman and her husband good cause to be afraid: they draw guns and carjack the couple's SUV .... A white cop pulls over a fancy car owned by a well-dressed black couple, and, while supposedly searching for weapons, fondles the wife, taunting and humiliating her powerless husband. (Later, one of the black youngsters and the racist cop will show that they have redeeming traits.) ... An African-American homicide detective, whose brother is one of the carjackers, has to suffer the abuse of a white district attorney (the guy whose SUV was stolen) to save his brother from life in prison) .... A Mexican locksmith is disrespected by two of his clients. ...

And the stories go on, the characters' lives crashing into each other here and there. The one thing they all have in common is fear—and some form of racism, sometimes subtle, sometimes blatant. Throwing in a dash of humor, Haggis shows us how America looks from a racial perspective. Not a pretty picture—but one we need to look at if we are to transform the culture by living the gospel.

—Edward McNulty

Who trespass against us
The Woodsman

Rated R. Directed by Nicole Kassell. Sony Pictures DVD. Running time: 87 minutes.

Actor Kevin Bacon is to be admired for taking on the difficult role of Walter, a pedophile just released from prison and trying to start over. He gets a job at a lumberyard and manages to find an apartment—ironically, just across the street from an elementary school.

Few people will have anything to do with Walter, for whom every day is a lonely struggle against temptation as he looks out his window, watching children at play. At the lumberyard, he keeps his distance from his co-workers, but forklift operator Vickie (Kyra Sedgwick) manages to break through his shell. He eventually tells her about his past troubles, overcoming his fear that she'll abandon him in disgust. She stands by him.

As the story develops, and we see Walter board a bus to follow a little girl from the school, we wonder whether even Vickie's love will be enough to keep him from falling back into his former destructive ways.

This is a film that should be seen by every Christian claiming to believe in God's unconditional love. Child molesters are at the bottom of the heap in today's society, a judgment constantly reinforced by the media with dire warnings about molesters living in our neighborhoods—the implication being that we should run them out before they harm our children.

Although we believe that an active faith could be a tremendous asset in Walter's struggle against his old urges, what church would welcome him into its fellowship? Would yours?

This is a challenging film, with a powerful performance by Bacon as "one of the least of these." The filmmaker apparently holds out some hope for Walter, despite his bleak situation; she closes the film with the gospel song, "His Eye Is On the Sparrow," leaving us to ponder whether or not we believe God really has an eye on such a wayward sparrow as Walter. Indeed, some viewers might wonder whether Walter is not a hawk, just biding his time before swooping down on another helpless child.