Warrior

Cliché over cliché where everything goes according to a template seen hundreds of times, following the expected tracks, when it’s very easy to guess the development of the plot for long minutes ahead, even the dialogues you can chew in your mind before the actors let them out of their mouths. The comparisons with Rocky are ridiculous; more than anything, Rocky was an original and unconventional love affair, while Warrior has nothing original and unconventional at all. PS: Forget the much-vaunted Oscar, boys and girls. (10/12/2011)

Deceptively familiar plot template, masculine sweat in every minute, and problems that will forever stare back at you. Warrior is at first glance a kind of screenwriting calculation. It takes elements from various plot premises of famous boxing dramas and wraps everything up in themes that appeal to both audiences and critics. Iraq, heroism, trauma, high school, debts, alcoholism intersect here, with the strongest family values remaining at the center, wrapped around bitter memories. But it works, and it works perfectly. Gavin O'Connor has learned from Miracle that some emotions work better implied and without words, and with each scene that delves into broken family relationships, he escalates the atmosphere of unwavering fandom and desire for reconciliation. And last but not least, it features Tom Hardy in the forefront, who shatters all doubts with his brute strength. It's hard to say why guys so easily succumb in a moment when they hear the characteristic sound of a blow hitting a muscular body, but the adrenaline that surged in me during each significant fight could power a regional power plant. When even the most hidden memories and associated emotions bubble up during the final song, there is no defense against the power of this narrative. (09/12/2011)

So this is the best picture so far this year. An intense emotional and action-packed fireball with the faultless Tom Hardy and unexpectedly great Joel Edgerton, whose future is starting to look promising. A great idea, swimming in Hollywood sauce and the exiting environment of MMA has exactly the right ingredients. Warrior is about a struggle between two losers, both heroes in a way, but just one of them can win. Sorrow is overcome at the end by joy and the classic lesson “Don’t give up" rings true. I wouldn’t be surprised if this picture became a favorite for an Oscar. (07/12/2011)

If someone had told me a couple of days ago that there would be a combat sport drama that would get close to my TOP films of 2011, I would have laughed to their face. Fighter, The Wrestler, Cinderella Man, Rocky, Raging Bull… I didn’t give five stars to a single one of them and I’m actually trying to remember whether I’ve given such high rating to any other sports film. Warrior has a very straightforward plot and nobody will have a hard time figuring out how it ends – although I must say that I thought of two other endings while I watched it, both fairly effective, so I wasn’t all that sure. In the end, the creators took the path of least resistance, but it doesn’t matter, I can forgive that, because if I look at the not very sophisticated script (which doesn’t mean that it was stupid!), it’s brilliant and it works both as a drama and as an action film about fighting. In the end, Warrior arouse in me more rapturous emotions than any other film this year. Tension, followed by joy, followed by sadness, all with a great soundtrack in the back. I really prayed that the barrage of emotions wouldn’t be ruined with some pointless dialogue. Fortunately, it didn’t happen. PS: Now I believe that Hardy’s Bane will match Ledger’s Joker, really. (02/12/2011)

I welcome making the “I’ll take some – I’ll dish some out – I’m the winner” formula exceptional by dividing attention between the two actors in the final conflict, who also happen to be brothers (thus a bit of biblical symbolism to top it off). At the same time, I find it regrettable to not use the plot to generate greater ambivalence. Through the emphasis placed on the familial subtext and the praiseworthy teaching work, we are subtly directed to clench our fists when Brendan takes a punch, not Tommy, whose system is stolen (which, nevertheless, is not appropriate). The film does not show the desperation arising from the endless carousel of defeats and victories as in The Wrestler. Where Aranofsky's drama was critical, Warrior is pathetic. It does not dissuade from mindless violence, but rather encourages it with aggressive music. Furthermore, voluntary self-destruction has been the only option for both brothers from the beginning to preserve (or possibly improve) their existence. In the interest of its own dramatic functionality, the film does not allow any other option. Brendan fights in order to support his family, whereas Tommy fights because adrenaline gives him strength (this post-combat inability to give up fighting was captured more sensitively in The Hurt Locker), which is another reason to have more understanding for Brendan. Despite that, Tom Hardy’s performance made me feel sorry that the entire film is not focused solely on him. However, the more brilliant actor does not disguise the mechanical construction of the drama: the son does not like the father, the father gets wasted, the son pities the father and vents his frustration when he crushes his opponent in a match. This works in a beautifully simple way in films and perhaps we even long for it somewhere inside, but the emotional impact of this would-be psychological film suffers because of it. Warrior does well when, after approximately eighty minutes, it resigns itself to some sort of psychological dawdling and then only shows from different angles how two guys beat and kick each other and how others watch them. The matches are directed as uninventively as the dialogue scenes, which stultify us with endlessly alternating shots and counter-shots. The camera either remains outside of the cage and/or attempts to imitate the unprepared shooting of television cameramen, thus simulating the experience of at-home or live viewing of similar matches. Unlike Scorsese in Raging Bull, for example, O’Connor does not bring an aesthetic element into the violence, and thus does not make it an action surpassing everyday experience, thereby merely promoting the numbness of the audience and giving the impression that it is something ordinary. In short – and unfortunately – an uncritical film. 70% (09/10/2018)