When the Oscars are announced on Feb. 27, Clint Eastwood's latest gem, "Million Dollar Baby," will step into the ring with four other heavyweight pictures vying for the coveted Best Picture award. With six additional Academy Award nominations, "Million Dollar Baby" is poised to take home some serious hardware, and deservedly so. While the film is smaller in scope than Eastwood's previous success, "Mystic River," it is every bit as powerful. "Million Dollar Baby" lands a solid combination of superb casting, subtle direction, and a moving plot that makes it a formidable Oscar contender.
Morgan Freeman is once again phenomenal as Eddie "Scrap-Iron" Dupris, former boxing contender-turned-janitor and narrator of the film. Scrap runs the boxing gym headed by Frankie Dunn (Eastwood), an introverted trainer whose sour relationship with his estranged daughter leaves him cynical, bitter and alienated. Enter 31-year-old Maggie Fitzgerald (played immaculately by Hilary Swank), an aspiring boxer with hillbilly roots and a dysfunctional family who seeks Frankie's guidance, only to be persistently rebuffed ("Girly, tough ain't enough," he growls at her). Predictably, when Frankie eventually acquiesces and takes Maggie under his direction, their initially antagonistic relationship develops into one of mutual respect and affection. The film is propelled forward through a series of training sequences, three-punch fights and a show-stopping title match with a former prostitute dubbed the "dirtiest" boxer on the circuit before throwing a hard right cross of a plot twist that leaves viewers face up on the canvas.
Eastwood quietly dominates the film both on and off the screen, earning him nominations for Best Director and Best Actor. Perhaps overlooked is the prominent work he did in directing and composing much of the musical score, performed largely on a lone acoustic guitar. The simplistic, bittersweet melodic strains picked out on a solo guitar capture Frankie's resignation and isolation and give the film periodic breathers between frenzied rounds of fight scenes. Eastwood's acting is deliberately reserved and touchingly subtle, a flawless embodiment of Frankie's boxing credo -- "Protect yourself at all times." His delivery manages to be intense but not tense, paradoxically allowing Frankie to express a full spectrum of emotions often simultaneously within the limits of his hardened demeanor. His heart-tugging monologue towards the film's conclusion alone justifies his Oscar nomination.
Eastwood's compelling acting finds its counterpart in Swank's defiant portrayal of Maggie. Swank's preparation for the role -- a closely-monitored 90-day diet of boxing and egg whites that allowed her to gain just shy of 20 pounds -- pays off in a big way; She looks every inch the fighter that she plays. That Eastwood refused to use body doubles in filming the movie makes Swank's metamorphosis all the more impressive -- she is actively fighting during every fight scene. Still, the scenes which earned Swank her Oscar nominations are the ones outside of the ring, where she steals half-eaten steaks off of tables at the restaurant where she waitresses and pours her heart out to Frankie. Swank demonstrates the full range of emotion that Maggie is capable of, from childish excitement to intense stoicism to a complete surrender to vulnerability. She captures precisely the hunger that drives Maggie, for whom boxing is the single thing that is real in her life, "the only thing that I feel good doing."
Equally deserving of his Oscar nomination for Best Supporting Actor is a stellar Freeman, whose melancholy narration lends somber gravity to an already heavy film. Despite being again typecasted as the mysterious, wise elder, Freeman overcomes any suggestion of clich with a subtly nuanced and at times comedic performance. Boxing is the overwhelmingly operative metaphor for life in this film, and he is the knowing voice of recollection, revealing several of the film's key thematic elements through his narration.
The trio of Eastwood, Swank, and Freeman help "Million Dollar Baby" rise above the caricatured bravado of "Rocky" and the hackneyed sentimentalism of underdog flicks like "Rudy." Other notable performances include Jay Baruchel's caricatured portrayal of Danger Barch, a hopelessly inept fighter, Brian O'Byrne's outstanding effort as Father Horvack, the Catholic priest pestered by Frankie and Margo Martindale's despicable portrayal of Maggie's disapproving, trailer-trash mother.
Eastwood and screenwriter Paul Haggis succeed in defamiliarizing the familiar trials of life by eschewing the clichs that are so readily embraced by Hollywood films and by refusing to resort to overstatement or cinematic gimmicks in order to move viewers. Though the vehicle for their vision is in the very violence of a sport, beauty and grace can be found where they are least expected: in the rhythm of a four punch combination, in the glass eye of a failed boxer and in the heart of a broken man. The film boasts stellar performances, a beautiful musical score, a gorgeous color scheme of black, blue and grey, and a compelling storyline that add up to consensual critical acclaim and seven well-deserved Oscar nominations. Eastwood strips the film down to its bare essentials, relying heavily on the characters themselves rather than an extravagant set, a complex plot, or intricate camera work to carry it. The simplicity of Eastwood's directing is coupled with the simplicity of the film's central figures: Frankie and Maggie have nothing but boxing, no one but each other. Ultimately, "Million Dollar Baby" is a quiet masterpiece, Eastwood's honest meditation on family, vulnerability and "the magic of risking everything for a dream that no one sees but you."
