Bang Bang

A boxer seeks redemption: an oldie and a goodie. Tim Blake Nelson takes on the worn mantle of the broken, irascible ex-pro fallen on hard times. He plays “Bang Bang” Rozyski, a Detroit legend who won his big match only to find that the rewards were fleeting, the pleasures artificial and the satisfactions withheld. Nelson gives an inhabited, mostly unsympathetic portrayal that tries to resist the rough-exterior-heart-of-gold archetype. His cranky insensitivities are loose and unpleasant; his wayward selfishness is a feature of his personality, not a glitch.

Supporting Nelson is a comic role for Glenn Plummer, who plays Darnell Washington, Rozyski’s smug, erstwhile rival and current mayoral contender, who made his post-retirement fortune not from grills, but blenders. It’s a nice joke, and the pair’s diverging paths and sensibilities produce a see-sawing tension that drives the narrative. The teasing sidenote of pathos is otherwise provided by Rozyski’s brother, also a boxer, whose fate we learn in the film’s denouement.

Nelson’s performance is an act of contortion: the sinewy muscle of his body moves him in and out of wheelchairs, as much as it does about and around the ring. Rozyski isn’t looking to forge his own return beneath the lights; he’s training his grandson Justin (Andrew Liner) to fight in his image, but to avoid making the same mistakes. Unfortunate, then, that this purported role model is now an alcoholic, a cocaine user and a man with occasionally homicidal intentions. In fact, there are very few debauched situations that Will Janowitz’s amusingly literal screenplay doesn’t throw at its protagonist. The viewer visualises the cogs of the plot, as they turn, turn, turn.

In this sense, Bang Bang is a great example of a film where stylish direction and decent acting elevate the contrived pedantry of the script. Vincent Grashaw (with DP Pat Aldinger) knows where to point the camera – whether in the fluid brawl of the gym or the domestic racket of Rozyski’s half-finished kitchen. There are also acutely observed scenes that demonstrate the habits the warrior has borne from his sport: eating ketchup sandwiches to keep calories down, perpetually standing on bathroom scales, vomiting to make weight for fights that stopped long ago. These details amount to an engaging character study, and the closing moments supply a startling and blunt emotional impact.

Joseph Owen

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