The Best Boxing Scenes from Boxing Movies

With the exception of film, there is little that I love more than the art of boxing. I’m not a sports guy (at all), but when it comes to the sweet science of boxing, I am in complete awe. It’s a sport I’ve witnessed, practiced and cherished with equal levels of fascination. There’s something about the calculation that goes into the whole thing that I find unique and interesting.

There is, however, a catch to being such a fan of the sport: I am virtually unable to enjoy any boxing film that gets the boxing scenes wrong. One of the best, most recent examples of this is David O. Russell’s The Fighter. Good movie, horribly inauthentic boxing scenes. Micky Ward was such a unique, driven fighter, and the film portraying him in no way capitalized on that.

Oh well. Just keep in mind that for the purposes of this post, I am only focusing on the boxing. Here are the ones that got it right, pound for pound.

The Ten Best Directors of All Time Relay Race

For the past few months, fellow film bloggers may have been lucky enough to take part in two interactive and challenging relay blog posts, both created by the ever-excellent Nostra from My Filmviews. First up was the Ten Best Actors of All Time Relay Race. The ladies came next, and earlier today, Nostra began a relay race in which we are to rank to the 10 finest auteurs.

Piranha 3DD

Movies like Piranha 3DD are a perfect reminder as to why I love movies. The old maxim states that we’re only fully able to appreciate sunny days because of the rainy ones. It’s the whole joy wouldn’t feel so good if it wasn’t for pain argument. Well, that’s exactly what Piranha 3DD is: pain. It’s a disastrous, God-awful abomination of a film that in no way deserves to be classified as anything other than that. In fact, calling it a “film” is to degrade any other form of art that is fit to be classified as such. Piranha 3DD isn’t a film, it’s 83 minutes of walking, talking, cold, dark, runny baby shit. But it also makes me appreciate virtually every other film I’ve ever seen. So, you know… thanks?

Moonrise Kingdom

In Moonrise Kingdom, a young, precocious, humorously idealistic boy, escapes from his Scout camp in order to run away with a young, precocious, humorously idealistic girl. The time is 1965, the land is a small New England island, the tone is suitably Wes Anderson. From opening frame to final shutter, Moonrise Kingdom is laced with the best that Anderson has to offer. Snappy dialogue, naïve romance, warm hues, and a colorful cast of characters all help make the film a mostly enjoyable addition to the mostly perfect resume of Wes Anderson.

Mostly.

the Directors: Wes Anderson

When you start listing the most influential and assertive of contemporary directors, Wes Anderson has got to be close to the top. After he made his first feature at the age of 27, many said he was going to be the next Scorsese, which, in a way, is exactly what he’s become.

No, Anderson hasn’t become famous for depicting street-level mobsters or shooting iconic scenes of horrific violence, but he has proclaimed himself as one of the most branded filmmakers currently working in film. At the risk of being presumptions, I think most any person with a basic interest in film can recognize a Wes Anderson movie within 30 seconds of watching it. The sepia-infused tones, the normal-to-slow motion shots, the witty, upper-class dialogue, the antique set props – it’s all part of the formula.

Many people say that you either love or hate Wes Anderson. I’m not sure I agree with that, I can’t say all of his films justify that level of polarization (some do, though). But love him or hate him or like him, it’s impossible to deny his influence.

Take This Waltz

Sarah Polley’s Take This Waltz is a simple film about a complicated woman struggling through a messy love triangle. It’s straightforward, smart, and, much like Polley’s first film, Away From Her, completely authentic.

The woman in question is Margot, played expertly by Michelle Williams, an actress who, at this point, has no idea how to deliver a less-than-stellar performance. Margot is a woman of many fears, paranoias and eccentricities, and while none of this is presented outwardly (Williams’ performance is, for the most part, pleasantly restrained), we’re witness to Margot being told more than once that she behaves like a child. Baby voices, using the word “gay” as a substitute for “stupid,” comic ploys for attention – things like that. 

In Character: Sam Rockwell

I’ve covered some truly fantastic actors since I began In Character last October, but only twice have I had to bend my own rules to include what I felt were the best performances by the actor I was highlighting. I typically chose an actor’s five best roles, then a final one to signify my favorite specific performance. Emily Mortimer and William H. Macy are the only two actors I’ve had to give six essential roles to. Couldn’t find a way around it. Sam Rockwell makes three.

Whether he’s a bug-eyed maniac, a soft-spoken astronaut, or a far-from-slick con man, Sam Rockwell has a power that is rarely matched by other actors of his generation. It’s those expressive eyes. They’re maddening and sad and soft and piercing. The man’s simply got it.

The Ten Best Actresses of All Time Relay Race

Anna from Defiant Success has been kind enough to pass the baton onto me concerning the Ten Best Actresses of All Time Relay Race, Nostra’s female counterpart to her equally challenging (and ungodly amusing) Ten Best Actors of All Time Relay Race. And looking at the 10 actresses currently occupying the list, I can say that this is a much tougher choice for me than the actors relay race was. There are simply great, and to X one out will be extremely tough, but here goes.

Anthology Breakdown: Paris, je t'aime

The concept of Anthology Breakdown is simple: instead of reviewing an anthology film as one cohesive movie (which is the initial intention) I review and grade each individual vignette. For today’s post, the focus is Paris, je t'aime, a whimsical collection of 18 short films, each set in a different arrondissement in the City of Light.

Earrings: Editing Update and a One-Sheet

I haven’t posted about my new short film Earrings in a little over a month, and for good reason(s). I’ve lived and breathed this movie for eight months, so when filming wrapped, I felt it was important to take a few weeks off before I began reviewing all of the footage.

While taking a break from the film, I was hit with a rather heavy blow in my life. Point in fact, I’m currently going through something extremely difficult that I’m not going to discuss publicly. Times are tough, motivation is sparse, and inspiration has been nonexistent. Don’t worry, I’m not looking for a pity party, I’m just saying that when the worst of life happens, it’s important to embrace something (one thing, anything) and keep going.

Earrings is my one thing.

In Character: John Cazale

John Cazale. Five films. Six years. A lifetime of legacy.

No one had the slightest clue who John Cazale was when he was cast as the weak, foolish Corleone brother in The Godfather. But at the behest of his good friend Al Pacino, Cazale was plucked from New York stage obscurity and sent to rally with guys like Brando, Caan, and Duvall. Which he did, with impossible emotion and vulnerability.

Vulnerability. That’s a word you hear a lot by people who describe Cazale, the man, and Cazale, the actor. He was completely willing to open himself up to each of the four characters he played. Sidney Lumet said Cazale possessed a “tremendous sadness” (the origins of which Lumet never pushed to discover). Whatever his methods were, Cazale transcended screen acting. He did it with his cold, dark eyes, with a glance, or a helpless whimper.

Cazale was 42 when he died in 1978 after a particularly grueling bout with terminal lung cancer. His credits are restricted to five films. Five classics that helped define the finest decade of American cinema. If I were to ever make a list of my top 10 favorite actors of all time, you can be sure that John Cazale would be ranked among them. Here’s why.

My Favorite Scene: The Godfather Part II

Warning: Critical plot details will be divulged in this post.

The second installment of Francis Ford Coppola’s Godfather saga is about a lot of things. It’s about family, money, power, revenge. But at its core, it’s really a movie about a guy trying to figure out who the hell tried to kill him.

Early in the film, Michael Coleone’s bedroom is shot to hell as would-be assassins attempt to murder the Don. Immediately after surviving the attack, Michael sets out to find the perpetrator. Who did it, and why? Those two questions are, essentially, what fuels Michael’s section of the film.

Jumping ahead a few hours, after Michael has it confirmed that his dimwitted older brother, Fredo, was responsible for the attack, the two share a brief, heartbreaking moment together that remains one of the very best scenes from America’s best decade of cinema.

The Real New York

Midtown Manhattan, Jan. 2011, taken by yours truly

Most of what I do for my day job is act as the editor in chief of a quarterly magazine. The non-profit I work for essentially lends financial assistance to people with very rare diseases. Basically, we pay for the medications, premiums, etc. of people who cannot afford to pay them. And when I say can’t afford, I’m talking medication that costs thousands of dollars. A month. If our patients don’t take the medication they need, then they don’t make it. Period.

In late January, I traveled to New York City to interview Dennis Stravropoulos, a 9/11 rescue worker who currently lives with pulmonary hypertension, one of the diseases the company I work for supports. PH is a disease that causes abnormally high blood pressure in the arteries of the lungs. Every breath for Dennis is a challenge, and I thought his story, that of a veteran NYPD detective who contracted this often-fatal disease as result of cleaning up debris post-9/11, would make for a good cover story.

I had met Dennis twice before writing the article, so when I met up with him at Ground Zero in January, I was there as a friend first, an editor second, and a movie lover always. What basically developed was one long, giant conversation about his life, his disease and That Day.

101 Cinematic Reasons Why I Love the ‘60s

1.     “The day was 24 hours long, but it seemed longer.”

2.     “You never did eat your lunch, did you?”

3.     “Here you are, sir. Main Level D.”

4.     Peter Sellers as Clare Quilty

5.     Peter Sellers as Capt. Mandrake

6.     Peter Sellers as President Muffley

7.     Peter Sellers as Dr. Strangelove

8.     The unexpected brutality that occurs directly before this shot:

Battleship

After the “necessary” plot details are thrown into play (something about US officials shooting lasers into space to ignite the curiosities of would-be alien life forms) Peter Berg’s Battleship briefly divulges into some amusing character development.

Soon after we meet the Hopper brothers – the older, wiser, Navy man, Stone (because people are really named Stone), and the younger screw-up, Alex – Alex decides to break into a convenience store. Basically, what carries out is a send-up of my favorite viral video of all time. American blockbusters are always trying to be hip and relate to its young audience via the latest pop culture references (remember the "I'm the Juggernaut, bitch!" bit from X-Men: The Last Stand?). We see it all the time, but I’ve never seen it done this refreshingly.