Clint Eastwood's Million Dollar Baby is the best American film of 2004. It is a film of considerable emotional heft and truthfulness, a film that takes the audience back to an era when the movies were an elegant combination of storytelling, acting and writing. A year after his over-praised Mystic River, Eastwood has finally crafted his masterpiece, his 25th film as a director, in which every moment counts as a little piece of the human condition.
Much of the film occurs in a rundown gym in Los Angeles, where Frankie Dunn (Eastwood) works as a boxing trainer. When the young Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank, who is ideal for the role) comes to him with her aspirations toward becoming a boxer Dunn rebuffs her immediately.
“I don't train girls,” he tells her. When she replies that people have told her she's tough, he rejoins with, “Girly, tough ain't enough.”
But Maggie won't take no for an answer. She is a poor waitress, just over thirty years old, and has very little to call her own. She steals half-eaten food from plates in the restaurant she works in so she can eat. When she is seen she shyly says, “It's for my dog.”
She shows up at Frankie's gym abruptly though he has told her he doesn't want her there, and pays the membership fee without his knowing. Though he is unwilling to remove her forcibly from the premises, he still ignores her when she tries to convince him to train her. Only eventually and reluctantly does he take her on. She is excited, of course, and trains after hours in the gym when everyone else has left—even when Dunn himself has left.
Years pass and Maggie's skill grows. Through her extraordinary motivation and Dunn's encouraging but hands-off training she excels in the ring. Soon she is the talk of boxing rings throughout both the States and Europe.
Then the film changes dramatically. The third act it becomes hard to watch as it makes turns into unexpected and devastated things.
Everything at work here is extraordinary. Eastwood's marvelous direction is understated and unpretentious, and he goes to work with contrasting light and dark shades to evoke the conflicting emotions of his characters. Paul Haggis' script, which is derived from short stories by F.X. Toole, is simple, poetic and beautiful. Although the plot is not entirely original, the story never seems clichéd. There is no false sentiment here and every moment builds toward poignancy.
No amount of superlatives could do justice to the actors here, all of whom turn in what may be the best performances of their careers. Morgan Freeman, who plays Scrap, Dunn's right hand man, and who also narrates the film, is wonderful. Eastwood himself is nothing short of brilliant. It is Swank, however, who steals every scene. It has been five years since her incredible gender-bending turn in Boys Don't Cry landed an Oscar in her hands, and it looks as though she may have another coming at the end of the month. From her glowing smile to her hopeful eyes, every ounce of her evokes the optimism of an underprivileged woman who wants to show the world what she is capable of.
It is hard not to over praise Million Dollar Baby; it is a nearly perfect film. While Mystic River was bloated, pompous and disappointing overall, Million Dollar Baby is delicate, modest and triumphant. Not to see it, in the theater, as it was meant to be seen, would be to deprive yourself of one of the most searing experiences to be had at the movies this year – make that the last several years. Just don't forget the tissue.
Million Dollar Baby is currently playing in the Jackson and Ann Arbor areas.