Joey Magidson
Boxing biopics are nothing new to the cinematic world. Movie after movie has looked at fighters and their struggle both inside and especially outside of the ring. Playing at the Toronto International Film Festival, Christy is another one, telling the story of Christy Martin, though female boxers have rarely been given center stage. This one does, with a hell of a performance in the title role, to boot.
Christy does follow the path of many boxing biopics, but the difference here is that this boxing drama not just has a gender difference, but a performance many will not be expecting from Sydney Sweeney. She’s an absolute knockout, doing work nothing to date has prepared you for. It’s a positively captivating turn that the film really leans into.
Christy Salters (Sweeney) never planned on being a professional boxer. As a younger woman in 1989, she loved playing basketball. She just also loved beating other girls up in the ring for a little extra cash. However, she’s soon noticed and given at a shot at the professional circuit. Her parents (Ethan Embry and Merritt Wever) are more concerned about the rumors of her romantic interest in women, so they ignore the lecherous and sketchy elements o her trainer Jim Martin (Ben Foster), once he begins pursuing her personally, as well as professionally.
Marrying Jim and taking his last name, now Christy Martin is soon the next big thing in professional boxing, helping to elevate the women’s circuit. However, Jim is becoming more and more abusive, as well as controlling, hurting her career, alongside her body. The cost becomes bigger and bigger, until she reaches a breaking point, leading him to snap as well, with major consequences.
Sydney Sweeney has never been better than she is here, while Ben Foster turns in some of his most compelling work as well. Foster always excels at playing loathsome men, with this one being among his most vile. The genius here is in how sad and pathetic he makes Jim as well. Of course, Sweeney is the highlight, doing the best work of her career. There’s obviously a physical transformation on display, but it’s more than just that. Sweeney has Christy moving completely differently than she normally does, really inhabiting the role. You can’t look away from her. It’s a revelatory and transformative performance, one the Academy may well be paying attention to this season. In addition to Ethan Embry (who comes on strong at the end) and Merritt Weaver (who is awful in a really subtle way), supporting players here include Tony Cavalero, Chad L. Coleman, Katy O’Brian, and more.
Co-writer/director David Michôd mixes the grim with some black comedy here, helping to give a standard issue sports biopic a bit of personality. The screenplay he penned with Mirrah Foulkes (Katherine Fugate gets a Story By credit) hits almost all of the boxing drama moments, cliched or not. That limits a bit of the effectiveness of the heavier moments, though you’re constantly drawn in by Foster and especially Sweeney. Her casting is the flick’s single biggest triumph, which otherwise can at times feel like Michôd is a bit overqualified for. Still, he never appears to be slumming it, leading to the stock moments still working on you.
Christy is a great showcase for Sydney Sweeney, while being a pretty good film in its own right. Sweeney is going to be launched directly from TIFF into the Best Actress race, and whether she gets an Oscar nomination or not, this should enter us into a whole new stage of her career. That’s exciting for her, as well as for audiences, as she’s one of the more interesting young actresses out there today.
SCORE: ★★★
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