Million Dollar Baby

Cast: Clint Eastwood, Hilary Swank, Morgan Freeman Direction: Clint Eastwood Music: Clint Eastwood

By talking anything about it, I run into a danger of revealing the plot of the movie and I sincerely dislike that idea. Four Academy awards, innumerable rave reviews, 173 on 190 positive reviews from Rotten Tomatoes and Roger Ebert calling it the 'best movie of the year' in its premier evening. Your expectations are bound to soar. More importantly, despite my pre-conceived hatred towards this movie, I must grudgingly accept that it's a very well made film.

Clint Eastwood found his niche in his 24th film (Mystic River) and has used it to maximum in the 25th offering (Million Dollar Baby). A very deliberate underplay of emotions and matter-of-factly depiction of some of the crucial and often cruel twists in the movie. In Mystic River, that the life of those three kids are changed forever is depicted with the play of shadows behind the window curtain. You know that the scar will never leave them. In Million Dollar Baby, however, you know that the stool inside the ring has some significance in the early stages of the movie itself. For instance, recall the Frankie and Scrap conversation about Scrap's socks holes is a classic example. A not so exciting life style of Frankie and Scrap gets interwoven very casually with that of Maggie and you realise that in future their life is going to be inevitably changed. And that change is going to be through the boxing game. You somehow prepare yourself for a grand finale where Maggie wins sort of a championship final or something.

Eastwood knows better not to drive you into yet another boring, in-your-face underdog-emerges-winner finale. And strangely, in the initial matches where Maggie wins tournament after tournament, some sort of an unease engulfs you. Those who know Eastwood's style of film making and the nature of his themes can't help wonder that such juggernaut is not going to last.

As he takes you through that gripping and inevitable climax, though you the plot gets a bit predictable, you uneasily squirm in your seat and hoping for Eastwood to bring in a twist. You don't mind even if it'll look unreal or melodramatic. You just don't care. Such a disturbing ultra-thin sensitivity that Eastwood dabbled with Tim Robbins character in Mystic River reaches its peak towards the climax of Million Dollar Baby.

When Scrap says 'Get a shot at your life' and confronts Frankie for not having given him that 'shot at life', in a very existentialistic way, Frankie makes up his mind. And only Eastwood can give you such a story twist so nonchalantly.

I saw a few people walking out of the movie hall towards the end, and I know because they were getting uncomfortable. I was told that a middle-aged lady in US, fainted in the movie hall. I can perfectly understand that. The movie doesn't have anything gory or vulgar or blood oozing out. It simply unsettles you. Makes you ask a lot of questions. The questions you don't want to confront.

I will never forgive Clint Eastwood for making such a good movie in the same year my favorite director Marc Froster made Neverland.