The Price of Glory 1 and 1/2 Stars (Outr of 4) Reviewed by Mac VerStandig critic@moviereviews.org http://www.moviereviews.org March 31, 2000
---A copy of this review can be found at http://www.moviereviews.org/price_of_glory,_the.htm ---
Jimmy Smits' new film, The Price of Glory, a mawkish, overly poignant look at family and boxing, is more like something a network would produce as their Sunday night movie than a studio would put into theatres; such tired clichés and poor dialogue have no business being on the silver screen.
Disclosure: I have never seen NYPD Blue, the show that made Jimmy Smits a star. Perhaps he is a talented actor after all, but you certainly wouldn't know that from seeing this movie. As a former boxer who rose too fast and fell too quick, Smits doesn't look like an athlete. As a father grooming his three sons for boxing glory with a blistering temper, Smits doesn't seem mean enough. And as the ruthless manager of the aforementioned three talents, Smits doesn't seem determined enough. Actually, it is rare that Smits seems like anything other than an actor reciting lines while simultaneously cursing his agent in the back of his mind. But that could well be the fault of the script.
The screenplay for Price of Glory allows such pathetic exchanges as the following scene between the Smits character and his wife:
`I love that boy!'
`More than anything?'
`Yeah.'
`More than boxing?'
Dramatic pause
All that is missing is a few weeping violins and a father/son conflict. Oops! There is a father/son conflict. Actually, there are three of them. Would you believe me if I told you one involved marriage and a fight with the future in-laws? Rushmore's Max Fisher would be proud.
Fortunately, there is some good to justify this being a decent Sunday night movie. The boxing footage is amazing. Much like the recent Play it the Bone, the filmmakers here seem to have put all their efforts into making the in-the-ring scenes memorable. They succeeded as every blow is exhilarating and every jab exciting, but there is too much out-of-the-ring action to justify solely judging the movie on punches and flying sweat.
Ironically, it seems that the only parts of the film properly edited are the complex boxing sequences. Numerous moments that cut back and forth between two camera angles have significant continuity flaws. There is no better example than a mid-film date scene where characters' positions seem to jump around even though they don't seem to be moving. The only excuse for such flaws is someone believing they were blocking the scenes with a more forgiving TV screen in mind.
The film's finale, although certainly no Rocky, is mediocre. But mediocrity projects an appearance of brilliance when following such poor work as the film's beginning. Most of the boxing footage finds itself in these last few moments and the dialogue is limited enough that audiences might actually exit the theatre with a cheaply placed grin on their face. This doesn't make up for the clichés, script or Jimmy Smits however. But then again, nothing could.
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