Cinderella Man
It is 1934, and in the locker room of New York's Madison Square Garden-- just minutes before his first bout in ages-- boxer James Braddock's stomach is turning.
Braddock isn't nervous. The rumbling of his stomach is not so much the result of frayed nerves, as it is the product of a day gone by without a bite to eat.
A victim of America's Great Depression, Braddock is-- literally-- a hungry fighter.
What follows next is one of the poignant-- if somewhat amusing-- scenes from Russel Crowe's latest movie, Cinderella Man (CM). After learning that his fighter is about to enter the ring on an empty stomach, manager Joe Gould (Paul Giamatti) quickly produces a bowl of beef hash that Braddock (Crowe) is unable to eat (both of Braddock's hands are taped and Gould forgot to get his ward any utensils). Unable to wait, Braddock buries his face in the bowl, and eats out of it-- an image that sums up the desperation of a man who must beg to pay his utility bills (another heart-tugging scene in the movie), and fight for a paltry sum, albeit years of not having trained.
There are feel-good movies, and there are outstanding feel-good movies. No split decision here. CM is one of the latter, a movie that combines a talented cast (Crowe and Giamatti are joined by Renée Zelweger, who plays Mae Braddock, James' wife) and good storytelling to produce a movie that is as entertaining as it is inspirational.
To compliment CM at this point would be redundant-- there a million reviews out there, all praising the movie. Which is ironic (but not surprising), since the movie hasn't done so well at the box office.
Fighting For What?
I'm sure many who've watched the movie can draw parallelisms between James Braddock and our hero-of-the-moment, Manny Pacquiao. Braddock gave the American people hope at a time devoid of it. Pacquiao gives us good news at a time there's a dearth of it.
Both are considered heroes for doing something they did primarily for themselves and their families. Let's not romanticize that aspect of their being prizefighters. One of the scenes in CM has a reporter asking Braddock something like, "why do you fight?" Braddock simply replies, "milk."
Pacquiao gets into the ring for far more than that, but it's basically the same thing. Boxing is the best way-- perhaps the only way-- he can put food on his family's table. That he carries the Philippine flag into the ring and manages to restore our pride in being Filipino-- these are bonuses.
I like that Pacquiao has given Filipinos something to smile about. I've just about had it with newspapers and news broadcasts-- all I see is bad news. You'd think that after the Gloria-Garci debacle, things couldn't get worse, but they have. Pacquiao's exploits give us something to cheer about. And for that, we should be grateful.
I don't see the point of debating on whether Pacquiao's a hero or not. We all have different standards, and I'm not about to impose mine on everyone else. (By my standards, anyone who leaves his or her family to earn dollars abroad is a hero. OFWs have helped keep our economy afloat, and without them our economy would be a hell of a lot worse off than it already is.) Many consider him one, and I won't dispute that. We Filipinos love our fighters, win or lose, because when they're out there slugging it out for their paychecks, we like to think they're out there fighting for us. Pacquiao has endeared himself to Filipinos, because unlike our so-called leaders-- who are too busy fighting each other-- the Pacman fights for his family, the flag, and for us.
If only our leaders would do the same.
It is 1934, and in the locker room of New York's Madison Square Garden-- just minutes before his first bout in ages-- boxer James Braddock's stomach is turning.
Braddock isn't nervous. The rumbling of his stomach is not so much the result of frayed nerves, as it is the product of a day gone by without a bite to eat.
A victim of America's Great Depression, Braddock is-- literally-- a hungry fighter.
What follows next is one of the poignant-- if somewhat amusing-- scenes from Russel Crowe's latest movie, Cinderella Man (CM). After learning that his fighter is about to enter the ring on an empty stomach, manager Joe Gould (Paul Giamatti) quickly produces a bowl of beef hash that Braddock (Crowe) is unable to eat (both of Braddock's hands are taped and Gould forgot to get his ward any utensils). Unable to wait, Braddock buries his face in the bowl, and eats out of it-- an image that sums up the desperation of a man who must beg to pay his utility bills (another heart-tugging scene in the movie), and fight for a paltry sum, albeit years of not having trained.
There are feel-good movies, and there are outstanding feel-good movies. No split decision here. CM is one of the latter, a movie that combines a talented cast (Crowe and Giamatti are joined by Renée Zelweger, who plays Mae Braddock, James' wife) and good storytelling to produce a movie that is as entertaining as it is inspirational.
To compliment CM at this point would be redundant-- there a million reviews out there, all praising the movie. Which is ironic (but not surprising), since the movie hasn't done so well at the box office.
Fighting For What?
I'm sure many who've watched the movie can draw parallelisms between James Braddock and our hero-of-the-moment, Manny Pacquiao. Braddock gave the American people hope at a time devoid of it. Pacquiao gives us good news at a time there's a dearth of it.
Both are considered heroes for doing something they did primarily for themselves and their families. Let's not romanticize that aspect of their being prizefighters. One of the scenes in CM has a reporter asking Braddock something like, "why do you fight?" Braddock simply replies, "milk."
Pacquiao gets into the ring for far more than that, but it's basically the same thing. Boxing is the best way-- perhaps the only way-- he can put food on his family's table. That he carries the Philippine flag into the ring and manages to restore our pride in being Filipino-- these are bonuses.
I like that Pacquiao has given Filipinos something to smile about. I've just about had it with newspapers and news broadcasts-- all I see is bad news. You'd think that after the Gloria-Garci debacle, things couldn't get worse, but they have. Pacquiao's exploits give us something to cheer about. And for that, we should be grateful.
I don't see the point of debating on whether Pacquiao's a hero or not. We all have different standards, and I'm not about to impose mine on everyone else. (By my standards, anyone who leaves his or her family to earn dollars abroad is a hero. OFWs have helped keep our economy afloat, and without them our economy would be a hell of a lot worse off than it already is.) Many consider him one, and I won't dispute that. We Filipinos love our fighters, win or lose, because when they're out there slugging it out for their paychecks, we like to think they're out there fighting for us. Pacquiao has endeared himself to Filipinos, because unlike our so-called leaders-- who are too busy fighting each other-- the Pacman fights for his family, the flag, and for us.
If only our leaders would do the same.
