It takes a lot to be a boxer. Every punch in the nose hurts. This one is pretty realistic. Not as uplifting as "Rocky", but a good fight story nevertheless. And pretty well choreographed. Robert Ryan, if I remember, was a boxer at Dartmouth, and his opponent here was state heavyweight champion in California.
The story is simple and well executed. (Based on a poem, believe it or not.
Maybe with an infusion of Hart Benton.) Ryan is supposed to throw a fight and he doesn't, so he is punished at the end. The ending is ironic. Ryan is at the end of his career anyway, and by breaking the bones in his hand, his enemies insure that he won't fight again, which is exactly what his wife, Audrey Totter, wants. (It's her best role.)
Ryan looks like hell at the end. Not as bad as Stallone looked in "Rocky," but then in 1949 everything had to be family oriented, and, anyway, nobody has Stallone's narcissistic taste for self aggrandizement. (He's an endearing Schlub in "Rocky," but when he gets out of bed to drink his raw eggs he's wearing a silky lavender thong that shows off his jewels.) Ryan is a fine actor. No one would call him handsome, I don't think, and he's not a bravura performer. But he's a reliable kind of guy, best at roles that suggest something simmering on the back burner. See him as a cop in "On Dangerous Ground," when he looks at the high-school athletic trophy on his mantel and says to himself, dismally, "Who cares?"
The movie is told in real time, like Oedipus Rex. It has a number of scenes that were, or were about to become, clichés -- the fat guy eating the greasy sandwich, the crooked gambler frowning when Ryan begins to win, the blind guy hollering "get him in the eyes," the lady screaming, "Kill him, kill him." The missing cliché is when the beaten boxer is on the canvas and looks up to see his enemies cheering his defeat, whereupon he gets up and kicks some a**.
But, really, I don't think I've seen a movie in which the choreographed bout looks real. Here, every punch seems to land on target. Plunk. Plunk. PLUNKPLUNK. Nobody ever misses. Nobody dances around long enough to feel his opponent out. I suppose because the director didn't want to bore the audience with two guys who were doing anything other than killing each other. It's a pretty barbaric sport, when you come right down to it.
This is a good low-budget movie and well worth watching if it comes around. Nice job by all concerned.
The story is simple and well executed. (Based on a poem, believe it or not.
Maybe with an infusion of Hart Benton.) Ryan is supposed to throw a fight and he doesn't, so he is punished at the end. The ending is ironic. Ryan is at the end of his career anyway, and by breaking the bones in his hand, his enemies insure that he won't fight again, which is exactly what his wife, Audrey Totter, wants. (It's her best role.)
Ryan looks like hell at the end. Not as bad as Stallone looked in "Rocky," but then in 1949 everything had to be family oriented, and, anyway, nobody has Stallone's narcissistic taste for self aggrandizement. (He's an endearing Schlub in "Rocky," but when he gets out of bed to drink his raw eggs he's wearing a silky lavender thong that shows off his jewels.) Ryan is a fine actor. No one would call him handsome, I don't think, and he's not a bravura performer. But he's a reliable kind of guy, best at roles that suggest something simmering on the back burner. See him as a cop in "On Dangerous Ground," when he looks at the high-school athletic trophy on his mantel and says to himself, dismally, "Who cares?"
The movie is told in real time, like Oedipus Rex. It has a number of scenes that were, or were about to become, clichés -- the fat guy eating the greasy sandwich, the crooked gambler frowning when Ryan begins to win, the blind guy hollering "get him in the eyes," the lady screaming, "Kill him, kill him." The missing cliché is when the beaten boxer is on the canvas and looks up to see his enemies cheering his defeat, whereupon he gets up and kicks some a**.
But, really, I don't think I've seen a movie in which the choreographed bout looks real. Here, every punch seems to land on target. Plunk. Plunk. PLUNKPLUNK. Nobody ever misses. Nobody dances around long enough to feel his opponent out. I suppose because the director didn't want to bore the audience with two guys who were doing anything other than killing each other. It's a pretty barbaric sport, when you come right down to it.
This is a good low-budget movie and well worth watching if it comes around. Nice job by all concerned.