I am no fan of boxing. It’s brutal sport, an anachronism in a society that calls itself civilized. Don’t we have, say, Quentin Tarrantino and David Cronenberg to allow us to vicariously appease our latent violent nature? So what need is there for the spectacle created by two humans physically damaging one another? Regardless of the answer to these questions, some of the ugliest subjects can and have been presented beautifully, powerfully, and evocatively on the big screen.
I knew that Cinderella Man was going to tell the story of underdog boxer James Braddock. I suspected early on that the filmmakers had the goal of getting me to experience the enthusiasm felt by ordinary Americans during the Great Depression, who saw Braddock’s unlikely comeback as a symbol of hope amidst dire hopelessness. What I did not expect was to be clenching my fists and tightening my body during each punch, hoping Braddock would knock the crap out of his opponents. (This was particularly embarrassing since I watched the film on my PowerBook on a flight, and may have woken up the passenger in front of me.)
Russell Crowe’s performance is subtle, which works particularly well in a film that barely manages to resist giving way to manipulation and sentimentality. (The resistance fails near the end with Renée Zellweger’s line, “You are the champion of my heart.” As she walks out, she might as well turn her head over her shoulder and say, “By the way, you had me at ‘Hello.’”) Paul Giamatti is superb as Braddock’s trainer and friend. His performance is likely the biggest reason that for 144 minutes, I became a boxing fan.
Here are this morning’s Oscar-nominated films, alphabetically. The nominees for foreign language film and documentary feature are compiled at the end of the list. (Short format nominees are listed in a 
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