Clint Eastwood is getting old–and he’s living proof that the Oriental cultures have it right.
Million Dollar Baby swept the top Oscars (saw it last night and could see why). My friend cynically described it as: “…a pretty good movie, and just a little bit soapy.”
Compelling is more the word I would use. Very much about real people and the real crap that makes life so intense–for good and for bad–but packaged in a hard-hitting punch-’em-up box and covered with human-emotion wrappings.
Had pretty much everything you could want–white kid from the trailer park trying to rise above it all, girls in tight little tops and shorts, blood and guts, guys with cut abs and rolling muscles, religion in the form of a fairly cool priest and some heavy moral choices, best guy friends, bullies, patsies, boxing matches, bloodthirsty fans, estranged father and kid, money-hungry family members and assorted other bad guys, and a tough, feisty heroine with a burning desire.
I am so-not a boxing fan–but by the time the fights came on, I cared about the characters so much it didn’t matter. I rate it A.
But I feel more like it’s a testament to the bright talent and quiet wisdom of a helluva guy who just keeps on giving from his heart.