At the beginning of the film we are introduced to a brash fighter named Billy Hope. He listens to rock music while assistants tape up his arms. He takes the words of caution from his wife, Maureen (Rachel McAdams) to not get hit too much off the cuff, dedicated to winning at any cost. Billy fights harder the more he gets hit, a phenomenon that concerns his wife, and especially his daughter, who isn’t allowed to watch Billy’s fights as they’re ‘too violent.’ But the beginning of the film paints a full picture of the Hope family – just the three of them, they have it all: money, friends, the American dream.
In a protracted scene of desperation, however, Billy loses it all. His wife killed in a tragic accident, Billy loses his daughter to the system, and spirals out of control with anger, violence, drugs, and blackouts. Billy grew up in the system, in and out of shelters, and has that street edge that makes him both a fierce contender and a loose cannon. Fuqua and Gyllenhaal paint Billy’s rise and fall carefully and fully, with nothing left to the imagination.
“Southpaw” is a unique boxing picture, as most of the film is aimed at explaining Billy and his actions, not focused so much on the four corners of a boxing ring but rather the human spirit. We see Billy pull a gun to a friend’s head when he mentions his late wife, and focus on revenge for his wife’s death more than his fatherly duties. At times Hope is a hard guy to root for, but “Southpaw” makes us want to. It’s this, and its gritty, raw emotion that make it a powerful picture throughout.
Fuqua and cinematographer Mauro Fiore highlight this grittiness well, in scenes that shift from Hope’s stately home outside of Manhattan to the mean streets of NYC. The entire film is cast in a perpetual grey pallor, a world without sun, the bright lights reserved for late night fights in different venues. Fiore also films “Southpaw” in an erratic style; not as chaotic and cutting as Michael Bay’s infamous “Transformers” series, but in a way that makes punches during fights tough to focus on, the action blurry and fierce.
But, for a boxing film, “Southpaw’s” main focus isn’t the boxing, and takes great lengths to fully detail its main characters. Gyllenhaal, as usual, brings terrific acting chops to the role, and completely disappears into the character. With “Prisoners,” “Nightcrawler,” and now this, Gyllenhaal has cemented himself as an actor to be reckoned with. He makes you feel Hope’s aggression, his ups and downs, his pain.
Alongside him, a bevy of solid acting ads to an already engaging picture. As his wife Maureen, in her limited screen-time Rachel McAdams turns in a great performance, not a composite of other roles she’s played, but her own unique entity. She’s Billy’s greatest confidant and ally, once warning that the others in his life will scatter when the chips are down; it isn’t until this prophecy comes true that we see how much she cared for and meant to him. Ancillary characters, such as Naomie Harris and Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson, round out the cast.
Two others also turn in great performances, Oona Laurence, who plays Billy’s young daughter Leila, and Forest Whitaker, who plays a new boxing coach for Billy, Tick Willis, both adding to the film in meaningful ways. Tick in particular patiently shows Billy how to be a new man; by the time Billy steps into the ring for the film’s epic conclusion, against a tough and reckless adversary, we don’t even recognize him. There’s of course more to this title fight and match-up than this, but to say more is to give away too much.
At the end of the day, viewers are unlikely to find much new about “Southpaw.” It follows a standard boxing picture formula, and is fairly predictable even if it finishes strong. But it’s the emotion “Southpaw” adds between the boxing matches that makes it a unique film. By the end, you know exactly what Billy Hope is fighting for. In a genre crowded with films centered on the boxing match, it’s a welcome change.
