The Fire Inside review – a sporting biog that lacks originality

We must be reaching a saturation point now where there’s at least one underdog boxing drama for every human being inhabiting planet Earth right now, and with Rachel Morrison’s The Fire Inside, we have one more to add to the pile. Based on a weirdly underwhelming script from Barry Jenkins, it’s a well-meaning if inert and surprise-neutral journey through the young life of female boxing prodigy Claressa Shields, feistily essayed by actor Ryan Destiny.

Set against a backdrop of extreme poverty in the deprived city of Flint, Michigan, we see Claressa running miles each day to hang out at a rinky-dink boxing gym run by local community leader Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry). The initial hurdle of allowing a girl to come in and fight with the boys is swiftly dealt with, as Crutchfield straight away sees “the fire inside” and decides to take Clarissa under his wing and usher her into the largely unchartered terrain that is female professional boxing.

The film hits all the expected beats, from domestic strife and economic woe to the actual logistics of packing this twosome over to London to compete in the 2012 Olympic Games. It’s impactful in the way it talks about a general dearth of opportunities for young women of colour in sport, culture and the job market, yet it’s dealing with too many different issues for any one thing to really hit home.

The arc that chronicles Claressa’s rise up the ranks ends up being context for a more compelling second act in which she is thrown on the scrapheap despite her incredible, record-breaking achievements at the Olympics. The film holds up a mirror to the world of commerce and marketing, painting an unflattering portrait of an industry that is driven by cynicism, stereotypes and an unwillingness to break the mould.

Destiny’s performance in the lead captures the necessary physicality demanded of the role, yet Clarissa’s mode of perma-scowling annoyance does make the her feel a little one-note at times. Tyree Henry has a lot more dynamic range in his character, and is able appear more appealing by dint of the fact that he passes through a range of emotions, from euphoria at Claressa’s wins to melancholy at the way she is all-but-ignored by the American public.

This is Morrison’s first film as director, having worked previously as a cinematographer for filmmakers like Ryan Coogler and Dee Rees. For reasons that seem rather perplexing, this is not a visually interesting film, and everything feels as if it has been shot and framed for maximum efficiency rather than to stand out from the crowd. Jenkins’ screenplay, too, while having a couple of rousing monologues, doesn’t really contain the depth and detail that you see and hear in his own directorial work. Shields is a worthwhile subject and her accomplishments are incredible, but this film is perhaps one for underdog sports enthusiasts only.