Clint Eastwood’s “Million Dollar Baby,” unlike his “Mystic River” and “Unforgiven,” has arrived almost without fanfare. Few magazines or newspapers included it in their fall preview roundups, perhaps because it looked like just another boxing drama, with the not-so-novel idea of a female boxer dominating the action.
But this is no “Girlfight.” Indeed, when you leave the theater, you’re not likely to be thinking about it as a sports movie at all. Paul Haggis’ spare, thoughtful script, based on F.X Toole’s collection of short stories, “Rope Burns,” is about unlikely connections between people — and the degree to which those connections can fill gaps left in other, seemingly more crucial relationships.
The philosophical tone surfaces early in the narration, delivered in measured tones by Morgan Freeman. He plays a former fighter, Eddie Dupris (nicknamed Scrap), who takes care of the Hit Pit, a Los Angeles gym owned by a veteran trainer, Frankie Dunn (Eastwood). Wary of getting involved in anything new at his age, Frankie dismisses the possibility of training a woman, Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank). He thinks of female boxers as “the latest freak show out there.”
He comes at her with a list of reasons why she can’t succeed, including the fact that she’s 31 going on 32. Would a ballerina start training at that age? But Maggie doesn’t know how to give up, and her persistence helps to win him over. Under his raspy, laconic guidance, she succeeds almost too well, knocking out her opponents almost as soon as the fights have begun.
These brief contests (broken noses and all) turn out to be a reliable source of comic relief, and the movie appears to settle down to provide an entertaining account of her rise to fame. But when Maggie goes to Las Vegas for a bout with a boxer who plays dirty, the mood suddenly turns tense and serious, and it continues in that vein.
As a director (and as the composer of the film’s uninsistent score), Eastwood handles this shift with grace and sensitivity. His use of slow-motion in the Vegas fight is especially effective in setting up the notion that the characters have reached a point of no return. What could have been a manipulative tearjerker instead becomes something quite fresh and genuine.
Even a couple of visits with Maggie’s horrid hillbilly relatives turn out to be worth the trip; they tell us so much about Maggie’s need to succeed and her desire for family. Swank is at her most eloquent in these moments, trying to please a defensive, condescending mother (Margo Martindale) who can’t accept her daughter’s generosity and mocks her inability to “live normal.”
The Oscar-winning star of “Boys Don’t Cry” is also quite remarkable in the fight scenes, although it’s Frankie who comes to dominate these episodes. Once he’s made the commitment to Maggie, he becomes not only her trainer but her most devoted fan. The looks that pass between them are filled with feeling — and a sense that their connection, however powerful, is fleeting. This may be Eastwood’s most deeply felt performance.