Christy review: Big performances hit hard in the boxing biopic
‘Christy’ recounts a pioneering woman boxer’s life as she fights for recognition in the ring and survival outside of it.
People have always deemed women’s athletics as inferior to men’s sports. It begins in school, when boy’s teams would get priority use of the gym or equipment. Funding — and payment models — always skew higher for men, regardless of a woman’s performance. It took decades for women to enter professional sports, irrespective of the discipline, building organizations from the ground up alongside their long-established male counterparts. Determined and inspiring women had to break down those walls, and demand recognition and respect. Christy recounts how a coal miner’s daughter fought for the first woman’s pay-per-view slot on Mike Tyson’s boxing card.
Christy Salters (Sydney Sweeney) was a basketball player, but she always got into fights with the other girls. Entering — and winning — a tough-man competition for fun, she grabs the attention of a boxing gym owner. He introduces her to Jim Martin (Ben Foster), who would become her trainer, husband and abuser. Immediately taking control of Christy’s life and career, he promises to take her to the top. Luckily, Don King (Chad L. Coleman) comes on his accord, attracted to Christy’s knockout record, reputation and good looks. In the ring, Christy was paving the way for women boxers. But behind closed doors, Jim’s manipulation and mistreatment would nearly cost her life.
Seeing everyone patronize Christy is irksome, but not surprising. Jim gifts her pink trunks for her first professional fight because she “looks cute in pink.” She needs to grow her hair because people won’t come watch an ugly girl win boxing matches. Outside the ring, she gives up pants for dresses, emphasizing her femininity to increase her appeal. Women who’ve faced similar criticisms and suggestions may feel activated and even frown on her compliance. But Christy puts everything she has into boxing and sacrifices even more to be successful.
It’s inspiring to watch Christy literally fight to earn every ounce of her reputation. But the never-ending battle outside the ring hardens her. She believes she alone deserves to share the spotlight with her male counterparts. Therefore, women challengers are not just her competition, but the enemy vying to take what’s hers.
Consequently, Christy was a reluctant trailblazer. She demands recognition for her abilities, repeatedly declaring she doesn’t care if anyone else gets theirs. But she begrudgingly drags other women boxers along the path behind her — otherwise, she’d have no one to fight.
The film includes classic boxing genre elements, including many scenes of her training and several fights, most of which she wins by knockout. The majority of the punching close-ups appear to connect, even if a couple are perceptibly pulled. Sweeney clearly prepared for the role, repurposing her kickboxing training. Beyond exuding Christy’s bravado, she looks like a capable fighter. Aptly, her technique noticeably improves over the course of the film after she begins training professionally.
Christy’s personal life supplies the film’s dramatic element. She’s a lesbian, shoved back into the closet by her close-minded, old-fashioned mother who thinks talking softly means you can say whatever you want. (Merritt Wever is outstanding, particularly for the disgust she draws from audiences each time she opens her mouth.) Joyce Salters is so happy Christy married a man, she blissfully ignores and even actively dismisses all the signs that her daughter is unhappy and potentially in danger. Unfortunately, Christy never approaches her more sympathetic father (Ethan Embry) for help.
This is the best performance of Sweeney’s young career. She commits not only to Christy’s physicality and loud personality, but her vulnerability. She allows just the slightest cracks in the boxer’s bluster before shoring them back up so no one else can expose her weakness. Meanwhile, Foster is nearly unrecognizable. Prosthetics and extra weight hide his familiar, wiry appearance. He’s lost in Jim’s insinuating malice, which is as striking as it is unsettling.
From the moment Jim sees Christy drop one of his male boxers, she becomes his meal ticket. The only things missing are bright green, cartoon dollar signs dancing above her head. Most importantly, he can tie her to him in a way he can’t with the men he trains. His marriage proposal is cringeworthy, coming right after he tears her down and threatens to take away everything she’s worked for. Their relationship is a sad and frightening demonstration of the power an abuser exerts over their victims. He wears down her spirit and whittles away her self-worth. He conceals his abuse in the guise of training and management, but everyone knows what’s happening — even Christy — yet, she’s powerless against him.
It’s difficult to find a biopic that comes in under the two-hour mark and this film is no exception. Unfolding chronologically, it skips several years to portray key moments in Christy’s life and career. Thankfully, this means the story is always progressing, which leaves little time for it to drag.
Director: David Michôd
Starring: Sydney Sweeney, Ben Foster and Merritt Wever
