Yes, it is a movie about a man's fall and self-redemption, a fascinating theme that appeals to many filmgoers like myself, as well as a popular, if not the ultimate, category on the producer The Weinstein Company's lineups. However, compared to its counterparts such as THE KING'S SPEECH, or even Les Misérables (Jean Valjean's story), SOUTHPAW seems (clearly) to have tried too hard in the hope of fitting in the league that it apparently does not have the subtleness or patience to let the emotions felt by the audience, but rather bluntly tells them to the audience right away, in their faces, literally through the actors' mouths... "If only you could tune it down to make it subtle and believable..." was what I was thinking on the supposed-to-be emotional scene where Whitaker and Gyllenhaal dwelled on the boxing kid's sudden death.
It's not a bad movie, don't get me wrong. It is OKAY. Yet the thing that keeps bothering me is I think the story itself has what it takes to be great, eg the drama of the fall, the contrast of the man's professional and family life, the variety of his personality, the strength of the family, etc. All seems like a good hand of cards, yet not well played. To cherry-pick a typical to elaborate the point, there was a damn seat at the final match left empty by the deseased wife that could have been filled by the should-be-much-stronger daughter to climax both the emotional and family elements. The director even gave a shot of the empty seat during the match yet still left it empty like that, utill all of a sudden something (unknown) haunted our protagonist to bring him back to win.Then the should-be-much-more-encouraging daughter celebrated the victory with him in the changing room... Damn, how boring is that!
Imagine this, folks, which is my alternate version - during the short break between Round 11 and 12, our protagonist was already exhausted. He took a glance at the seat where his late wife used to sit, certainly it was empty. "Ding! " the bell rang, he stood up to the start of the final round when he took a sudden and hard pouch from the opponent and fell to the ground. In slow motion, exhausted and frustrated, he spontaneously tilted his head to have a look at the seat again. Bam, there it was, his daughter, sitting there making the smilier gesture to him like the late wife used to do. A smile merging on our protagonist's face, mixed with blood and slaver of course, he climbed back and swung the winning swing. There you go!
How about that? Predicable, maybe, but it emotionally works and works better. Just take that seat, baby girl, and you are welcome.
View more about Southpaw reviews