Cinderella Man: Cheering the Good in Bad Times
by Dr. Marc T. Newman
June 3, 2005
(AgapePress) - When Rocky first took to the ring against Apollo Creed, he fought to prove that he "weren't just another bum from the neighborhood." By the time he finally touched gloves with Drago in Rocky IV, Rocky had become a transcendent cold-war international peace icon, telling everyone that "If I can change, and he can change, maybe everybody can change!" Boxing has always been a substitute for battle -- whether we war against personal demons or political police states. The horrific beauty of boxing, as it is portrayed in film, is its intimacy: two solitary combatants, slugging it out, vying for ascendancy -- metaphors for something outside the ring.In Cinderella Man (Universal), director Ron Howard focuses his lens on boxer Jim Braddock -- a former champion who is given a single chance to return to the ring, and who then turns that opportunity into one of the greatest comeback stories in American sports. Howard uses this story from the past to rouse the audience to defend, right along with Braddock, foundational ethics, fidelity, friendship, and family. But this is no Ward and June Cleaver story about championing easy virtue -- Braddock's story is framed by the Great Depression. True virtue, challenged by trying circumstances, is never easy.
Fighting for Faithfulness
The tone of Cinderella Man is set early. Jim Braddock is a fighter on the rise, with a wife, Mae, and children at home. A success in the ring, Jim has many female admirers. Coming home after a victory, his wife teases him about the ladies that hang back to meet her husband. She asks if there were women there, and then adds, "Was she blonde?" Jim smiles and tells her that she was a brunette. Then Mae launches into mimicry of what these women must say to Jim, commenting on his strength and prowess in the ring. In the midst of all the banter, a rare moment shines through. When was the last time a Hollywood film depicted a married couple who were dedicated to one another and still displayed passion? Yet here is Mae, a wife whose heart trusts in her husband and who does him good. She is the motivation that allows Jim to reject temptation. As she tells him later in the film, he cannot win his fights without her behind him -- and that includes the moral battles of his life.
Nothing in the film makes their relationship appear cloying. Even better, both the fidelity and the smoldering heat between this husband and wife are delivered with authenticity instead of the cynical directorial wink. One senses in Howard a true admiration for the man and the way he chose to live his life. Unabashed virtue comes across as appealing.
Fighting for What Is Right
Mere minutes into the film, the arrival of the stock market crash erases all of Jim Braddock's hard-won savings, and he is reduced to living in a hovel with Mae and three children. It does not take long to discover the depth of their poverty, as Mae is preparing single slices of fried bologna as the meal for her family -- a meal that still elicits from Mae the need to say grace and be thankful. They are behind on all of their bills, tapped out on credit at the grocer, and denied milk delivery because of late payments. Mae waters down the milk to stretch it through another day. Jim, considered "washed-up" by the boxing commission, is forced to fight injured just to make enough to slow his family's inevitable decline.
Their life is hard, but faith-informed. Irish Catholics, the Braddocks attend church (Jim has a special sparring relationship with the parish priest), say grace before meals, and pray for one another. Jim does get discouraged, telling his wife after a particularly rough day that he is "all prayed out." Nevertheless, his upbringing and practice provides Jim with a clear conception of right and wrong.
By the situational ethical standards embraced by many in our post-modern culture, almost anything the Braddocks could do to feed their family would be justified. But even when things appear at their worst, and parents are packing off children to relatives to stave off starvation, Jim fights his first screen battle outside the ring. He fights for the soul of his son.
Young Jay Braddock, the eldest child, steals a salami from the local butcher so that the family can eat. He fears that his family will break up soon, as he has seen happen to so many others in similar situations. When Jim comes home and is informed of the theft, he immediately marches Jay down to the butcher to return the stolen sausage, and to apologize to the butcher for his transgression. Outside the store, Jim tells his son that under no circumstances, however good the motive, is stealing justified. He makes his son promise that he will never again take what does not belong to him. After Jay promises, Jim makes a pledge of his own -- that he will never allow his family to be divided.
Fighting for Friendship
Mae fights -- playfully -- for her man, and Jim fights for the virtue of his son, but it is Jim's manager, Joe Gould, who fights for friendship. Mae, believing that Joe has been taking some advantage of her husband over the years, arrives at Joe's posh apartments to give him a piece of her mind about his attempt to drag her retired husband back into boxing. But when she discovers that Joe has risked everything to give her husband another shot, she is overwhelmed by his generosity and his belief in Jim. Joe is a manager, so there is no avoiding the financial aspect of his relationship to Jim. Nevertheless, the connection that is exhibited between these two men transcends a business arrangement. They are joined, brothers in adversity who will rise or fall together.
In film (and, one fears, in reality as well) business is a game of carnivores. Friendships between men who work together that evoke an appreciation for mutual risk and trust are stories that could stand to be told more often. While the world is certainly populated with rapacious people like Gordon Gekko from Wall Street, it is nice to be reminded that mentoring, nearly paternal, relationships like the one which evolves between the two men in In Good Company, and the fraternal bond shared between Joe and Jim, are possible, even in a competitive world.
Fighting for Family
But what about the boxing? All of the metaphorical life battles that face the Braddock family during the Depression help to frame the actual fights. The Braddocks are in financial straits, and jobs outside the ring are difficult to come by. Facing homelessness, starvation, sickness, and -- it is hinted -- possibly death for one of their children, Jim takes fights for chump change to scrape together as much as he can to keep his family going. When he loses his license to box, he lines up on the docks to fight for work. When even that gives out, he fights his pride and applies for help at the government relief office. And when he has done all he can and it is still insufficient, he humbles himself and goes to the very people keeping him from the ring to literally beg for aid, which in most cases is given only grudgingly.
As we watch Jim abase himself, the audience is not embarrassed for him. His willingness to humble himself is the precursor to his glory. What initially appears as weakness and inability speaks instead of strength of will, character, and perseverance. Far from being ashamed for him, the audience identifies, vicariously hoping that if ever faced with similar circumstances they would act as he does. Even out of the ring, Jim comes across as a hero.
Unlike the multi-millionaire boxing champions of today, Jim's pay only afforded him a modest lifestyle. Having experienced want, when asked why he has returned to prize fighting, Jim replies, "For milk." Jim never loses sight of his obligations -- he even pays back the welfare money he received from the state once his fortunes turn for the better. When he is in the ring, Jim's focus is not on personal glory, but on his family. Fearful of a return to privation, what keeps him standing through the punishment is the knowledge that this is what is required to provide for his wife and children. Bloodied, beaten, ribs broken, with all the reasons in the world to literally throw in the towel -- Jim battles on. His calling is greater than himself. He has obligations to meet. From his commitment comes the strength to endure.
Some in Western culture abandon families when they determine that their spouse no longer makes them happy or "meets their emotional needs." The admiration audience members express for the way Jim conducts himself demonstrates a desire for his brand of allegiance. Not happiness -- though it is a by product, not self-needs -- but the needs of others, motivate Jim Braddock's actions. The film resonates with viewers because even if they personally find such virtues lacking in their lives or relationships, they are still able to recognize their desirability. Knowing that virtue exists is not the same as possessing it, but knowing that virtue exists (and even when presented merely through film) gives one hope of possibly possessing it someday.
What Makes Cinderella Man a Contemporary Tale?
I have lamented elsewhere that when virtue is lauded in film it is frequently identified with the idiosyncratic or situated the nostalgic past. But the virtues of Cinderella Man, though set nearly 80 years ago, are played out in a way that translates well to the present. This is not some 50s feel-good movie. Temptations are hinted at that would be commonplace today for any powerful modern athlete or businessman. While we are hardly victims of a Great Depression, economic uncertainty and anxiety still drive problems in many marriages. Young people struggle to make sense of virtue in a value-free culture -- one does not have to be motivated by need to be tempted to violate morality. The competitive nature of the business world continues unabated. Boxing is a metaphor for the battles of life. The question everyone must ask is, "What are you fighting for?"
To watch Ron Howard's vision of Jim Braddock's life is to see an ugly, hopeless world transformed by the character and commitment of a man trying to do right when it would be easy to do wrong. He represents the courageous person everyone secretly hopes they could be. And if Howard's vision of Braddock inspires people to reflect on the circumstances of their lives and provides them with hope that they, too, can overcome difficulties by commitments to faith, fidelity, sacrifice, humility, and friends, his efforts to bring Braddock's life to the screen will be one of this year's finest cinematic achievements.
Opening June 3 in American theaters,
Cinderella Man is rated PG-13 for intense boxing violence and some language
Marc T. Newman, PhD (marc@movieministry.com) is the president of MovieMinistry.com -- an organization that provides sermon and teaching illustrations from popular film, and helps the Church use movies to reach out to others and connect with people.
