A boxing drama like “Girlfight” and “Air”

“What do you think about girls’ boxing?” The man asking this is Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry), the coach of a boys’ boxing club in Flint, Michigan. The year is 2012 and five years before he allowed a girl to join his club (even though it was against protocol): a scowling eleven-year-old named Claressa Shields, played by Jazmin Headley and, when she came of age, by Ryan Destiny .

Claressa, the heroine of “The Fire Inside,” has the dogged determination to fight her way into the ring. It’s not like she talks her way into it – Claressa, we learn, doesn’t say much. She speaks with her fists. And one of the reasons she uses them so brilliantly is that, by her own admission, she loves hitting people. She’s a tyrant and she owns it. She comes from a difficult situation: father behind bars, selfish, sometimes mean single mother (Oluniké Adeliyi) who can’t seem to keep her family out of poverty. Not to mention the hopeless atmosphere of a depressed community. Everyone tells Claressa that the only direction she can hit is sideways.

Jason, the coach, asks about girls’ boxing because he brings up what a foreign concept it is to most of the world at this point. Of course, as moviegoers we don’t feel that way. The concept of girls’ boxing seemed revolutionary in 2000 when Michelle Rodriguez starred in “Girlfight,” Karyn Kusama’s compelling drama about a troubled Brooklyn high schooler who channels her aggression into the ring. But that was a long time ago and the story that “The Fire Inside” tells is one of victory and glory. In 2012, when she was 17 years old, Claressa Shields, nicknamed “T-Rex,” became the first American woman to win an Olympic gold medal in boxing. Four years later, she repeated the feat and became the first American boxer to win consecutive Olympic titles.

Given her relative youth, we expect a story full of fierceness and determination, of the unstoppable rise of a boxer who emerges as a fast-paced dynamo. “The Fire Inside” gives us that catharsis; It’s a real thrill. Still, the film is rooted in a sobering understanding of the trauma that can be the flip side of triumph. The arc of the drama revolves around a huge curveball that it throws at the audience. And Then the film becomes really good.

“The Fire Inside” is the first feature film from Rachel Morrison, the acclaimed cinematographer who shot “Fruitvale Station,” “Mudbound” and “Black Panther,” a frills reality that is very New Hollywood. When you watch “The Fire Inside,” you can taste the evening chill of the Flint winter, along with the desperate dreariness of Claressa’s home, where there is never enough in the closets. Most of all, you realize what a grumpy and intimidating personality Claressa is.

It’s not that she’s “unlikable.” It’s that aspiring actor Ryan Destiny fascinatingly curbs and redirects her charisma, allowing us to see how Claressa’s mind has morphed into itself. Claressa is a girl of few words because she knows exactly where her words will take her – not far. The bond she develops with Jason, the trainer, is characterized by respect coupled with hostility. You’d think Brian Tyree Henry has played this kind of role before – the down-to-earth nobility, the impulse, annoyingly supportive. But what he does this time is emotionally invigorating. Jason, with glasses and a goatee, is a gentle soul who is in over his head. He’s not a professional; He is a security guard who also works as a trainer. And he realizes that the only way he can deal with a hurricane like Claressa is to do his best to focus and direct her energy. Still, she needs him. When she lands a spot at the 2012 Shanghai Olympics, Jason can’t afford to accompany her on his own. And his absence upsets her.

The sports film genre has more or less prepared us for one thing: winning. But here’s the tantalizing trick “The Fire Inside” plays on us. Claressa’s relentlessness in the ring is undeniable. The fight scenes are exciting because Ryan Destiny makes you feel the destruction they cause. And when she emerges victorious and wins her first gold medal, we feel the catharsis we want to feel, even if we think, ‘Wait, the movie’s only halfway over.’ Where can we go from here?”

A black teenager rises from the doldrums of Flint to become an internationally celebrated Olympic star. Could this have a disadvantage? It is this. Claressa plans to continue her career as a boxer, which is entirely possible for her. But part of their desire is for their success to translate into, wait for it, monetary value. She achieved greatness, she achieved fame, she made America proud. So where is their reward?

Olympic stars earn money from advertising contracts. But for Claressa there is none. The sponsors approach them and then walk away. Why? Because these deals are all about companies promoting an image that they believe will resonate, and even in the 2010s, the image of a woman beating up everyone else in the boxing ring is officially considered repugnant. “What do you think about girls boxing?” The corporations that control the purse strings don’t like that.

“The Fire Inside” transforms from a sports drama to a sports parable on American marketing like “Air.” But of course “Air” wasn’t just a film about selling a shoe. It was about race, about the inner meaning of Michael Jordan’s superstardom, about the value we place on a particular athlete and why. Marketing is one of our culture’s metaphysical billboards; In its capitalist way, it reflects equality and justice. So when Claressa sets out to become a product endorser and match scholarships for female boxers training for the Olympics, she’s not just doing it outside of boxing. It is a form of boxing. She pounds her fist into the system, trying to break it apart. And Ryan Destiny’s performance will be heroic. We see that that scowl from Claressa, her refusal to coddle anyone and nothing less defiant than that, is exactly what she needs to win this fight.