THE STORY – The protagonist is known only as The Boxer. And boxing is virtually all he lives for. Ten years ago, a nasty cut took The Boxer out of commission. Ever since, he and his wife and trainer Caitlin have run a successful gym. It should be enough, but when another boxer unexpectedly dies before a title fight, The Boxer puts himself forward as a replacement and the event’s shady promotor decides to make him the new contender — everyone loves a comeback. The only problem is that, to qualify, The Boxer needs to drop a precipitous number of pounds in just six days. Enter Boz, a brash trainer infamous for using every possible technique, legal or not.
THE CAST – Orlando Bloom, Caitríona Balfe & John Turturro
THE TEAM – Sean Ellis (Director) & Justin Bull (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 99 Minutes
Boxing movies are a dime a dozen, but Sean Ellis’s “The Cut” isn’t your average boxing movie. Taking what would generally be condensed to a single act or even a montage of most boxing movies, “The Cut” focuses entirely on cutting food and water to make weight for the big match. While this approach certainly makes for a unique take on the boxing movie, that doesn’t stop the screenplay from following the same basic beats used by every boxing movie since the movies have existed. Even with its director and star throwing everything they have at the screen to make it work, “The Cut” can’t rise above.
Orlando Bloom stars as The Boxer – yes, that’s all he’s credited as – who suffered a devastating defeat ten years ago due to a nasty cut on his eye. Since then, he has run a fairly successful gym alongside his wife/coach Caitlin (Caitríona Balfe), but his soul has never fully recovered. When another boxer suddenly dies right before a title fight, he sees an opportunity to get back in the ring and won’t let it go. He barely has to push the event promoter – everybody loves a comeback! – but Caitlin is worried about how much weight he must lose in such a short amount of time. Unable to back down and unwilling to admit defeat before he’s even stepped into the ring, The Boxer enlists the help of another trainer, Boz (John Turturro), who infamously subjects his fighters to anything and everything to get in shape, no matter how dangerous or even illegal. As he works harder than he ever has to get ready for the fight, The Boxer is pushed to the physical and psychological brink, but will he survive the prep, let alone the fight?
Knowing that the audience expects some hard-hitting, pulse-pounding action in movies about boxers, Ellis adds as much action as he can. He’s hindered by the film’s structure, which opens with the match that cost The Boxer his career and never goes into the ring for a match again, outside of some slow-motion transitions that use shots from a fight to dramatize the physical pain The Boxer is going through. Knowing there’s not much action in the film, Ellis does what he can to make The Boxer’s psychological breakdown as kinetic as possible. Considering the low amount of food intake and high amount of energy exertion he’s going through, this makes sense. Anyone would start to crumble under those situations, getting exhausted and moving through the world in a haze due to the lack of nutrients and energy. But Ellis goes too hard, pushing the film into a much higher, dizzier register than the generally low-key dialogue scenes. Black-and-white flashbacks to The Boxer’s youth work well enough, although Justin Bull and Mark Lane’s screenplay is at its most melodramatic during these moments, exploring the trauma that drove The Boxer to reach this point. But once he hires Boz and goes to even deeper, darker places, Ellis puts the film’s style into overdrive, breaking the film’s intimate, almost neo-realist patience. This attempt to bring the kineticism of the ring to the preparation to fight is commendable, but it works against everything else the film is doing.
Thankfully, Bloom’s commitment to the role always shines through whatever else is happening on screen. The cast around him is great, too; Balfe adds yet another supportive wife to her resume that she shades with such grit that the thinly-written Caitlin feels like a fully drawn protagonist in her own right. Turturro sinks his teeth into the unscrupulous Boz with glee, contorting his face into Mephistophelian grins and shouting humiliating obscenities at his fighters with pointedly reckless abandon. They’re the angel and devil on The Boxer’s shoulders, and Bloom fully immerses himself in the character’s internal struggle. The physical commitment is on full display, with the actor believably going from pudgy to ripped and taking some nasty-looking blows to every part of his body.
The psychological commitment, however, sees Bloom raising the bar for himself as an actor, as he takes all of the character’s internal scars and finds ways both subtle and not externalize them. His push-pull relationship with Balfe feels like that of a couple that has been together for so long they’ve lost sight of each other just enough that they’ve become slightly different people without realizing it. How Bloom reacts to every crazy thing, Boz asks The Boxer to do shows that he doesn’t want to do it but is so committed to his goal that he will push himself anyway, pushing the character’s tragedy to the forefront. It’s the best performance he’s ever given, but it’s in a film that can’t thread the needle between the character study at its heart and the boxing movie it’s dressed up as.
