THE STORY – MMA legend Patton James, now a commercial fisherman, is pulled back into the cage when his brother is in danger. Reuniting with his old coach, Sammy, he commits to one final fight in ONE Championship against its brutal champion, Xavier Grau.
THE CAST – Russell Crowe, Daniel MacPherson, Luke Hemsworth, Mojean Aria, Kelly Gale, George Burgess, Bren Foster, Saphira Moran & Amy Shark
THE TEAM – Tyler Atkins (Director), David Frigerio & Russell Crowe (Writers)
THE RUNNING TIME – 114 Minutes
Since the beginning of time, man has found it satisfying to watch others beat themselves senseless. Violence, something ingrained in our psyches, has turned that desire into some of the biggest professional sports in the world. While the UFC has Americanized MMA and taken the throne as the premier name in the business, the international scene remains massive. Like these real-life pastimes, cinema has long tapped into this carnal appeal, with fighting dramas becoming a staple, whether centered on MMA or boxing. On paper, the new film “Beast,” which pairs a sport built on primal brutality with a ground-and-pound filmmaker like Tyler Atkins, sounds like it would make for a brisk, engaging watch for fans of the sport. Instead, it ends up as a bland Australian iteration of “Warrior,” complete with nearly every familiar genre trope blended into one.
In “Beast,” audiences follow Daniel MacPherson’s Patton James, a former MMA fighter and ex-con who abandoned his dreams of greatness at the height of his powers. His commitment to his family now outweighs anything tied to his fighting past, including his younger brother, the brash Malon James, played by Mojean Aria, and his former trainer, Sammy, played by Russell Crowe. Naturally, this fragile attempt at a peaceful life is challenged at every turn, as writers David Frigerio and Crowe, who also serves as co-writer, throw one hardship after another at their protagonist. A lack of steady income threatens his daughter’s access to emergency medical treatment, his wife is pregnant, and his family’s legacy is tested by a rival from his past, the reigning champion Xaviar Grau, played by Bren Foster. After relentlessly piling on these conflicts, “Beast” aims to function as both a rousing sports drama and a meditation on forgiveness. Still, it ultimately feels rushed and unlikely to satisfy most viewers.
Patton, a grizzled shell of a man, is as empty as the characterization the screenplay gives him. He is clearly in pain, yet the film rarely explores his inner turmoil until the back half, after a major event shakes his personal life. If anything, it is MacPherson’s physical commitment that keeps audiences invested in Patton’s journey, despite his surface-level stoicism. Crowe, who in his prime portrayed physically imposing figures like Maximus in “Gladiator” and James J. Braddock in “Cinderella Man,” now occupies the other side of the ropes. His Sammy is an aggrieved trainer, still holding Patton’s abandonment against him while hobbling in and out of the story. Their dynamic, like most of the relationships in Patton’s life, is thinly sketched. The essentials are there, but little more, leaving the film’s emotional beats feeling hollow despite Atkins’ efforts.
The fight sequences, staged by Atkins and Mark Duncan’s stunt choreography, are serviceable at best. They rarely embrace the full, blood-fueled intensity of the sport, often cut to pieces or awkwardly slowed down. As a result, they never become truly absorbing, especially with “Beast” leaning so heavily on the clichés of the genre, telegraphing the outcome of nearly every bout. The grappling, however, is impressive when the film allows it to play out uninterrupted. Watching MacPherson and Foster go toe-to-toe has its moments, even if Foster’s cartoonish antagonist is among the more predictable villains the genre has to offer.
When a sports drama fails to generate any real sense of exhilaration, whether in its protagonist’s climb back to the top or in the stakes surrounding his personal life, it ultimately falls short of its intentions. There is some fleeting satisfaction in watching a punch connect, aided by sound mixing that gives each blow a sense of weight, but beyond that, there is little here that truly lands.
