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With Will Smith's Focus opening this weekend, I was perusing the actor's filmography and was reminded of one remarkably glaring blind spot. It's strange that I've never seen Ali for a lot of reasons. For one, Will Smith is maybe the biggest movie star in the country, and it's strange that I haven't seen one of his most notable movies. For another, it's supposed to be quite good. Perhaps the strangest aspect of my not having seen Ali is that it nabbed Will Smith his very first Oscar nomination, and I always like to see the Oscar nominees.
What can I say? This one got past me. Maybe it was the two-and-half-plus-hour running time that kept me away. Maybe it's that Michael Mann-directed movies never seem to appeal to me as much as they do everybody else (not even a little sorry, Collateral). Regardless, it's a gap that has needed to be closed for a long time, and no time like the present.
It's not that I expected to dislike Ali, but I sure wasn't expected to like it as much as I did. This is an EXCELLENT movie, and Will Smith should probably have an Oscar on his mantle for it. …But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The movie opens with nearly ten minutes of the young Cassius Clay (Smith) training, set to the music of Sam Cooke. Sometimes we see Cooke performing his act on stage. Two men who were such important figures to the black community of the 1960s. Oh, and here's a third, as Cassius takes in a speech by Malcolm X (Mario Van Peebles) about the Nation of Islam. Cassius seems intrigued and would like to subscribe to his newsletter:
This is one of those blessedly smart biopics that takes a slice of a man's life rather than starts with the character as a child and takes him into old age. So the first major event of the movie is Clay's big flight against Sonny Liston. We get a sense early of what an entertaining loudmouth he is during the weigh-in, when he makes fun of Liston for being a "big ugly bear."
Suddenly, from the back of the press gaggle, comes a man wearing a Nixon mask …
Wait, no, that's Jon Voight in character as Howard Cosell, Ali's biggest ally in the press. Voight was also nominated for an Oscar, but suffice it to say I don't think he should have a trophy on his mantle.
Michael Mann films the match with Liston so beautifully, I can hardly appreciate it properly. His mixture of close-ups and long shots has such a rhythm to it, and his camera dances around the fighters in a way most boxing movies simply can't manage. Some of the best work of his career.
So Clay beats Liston, becomes the champ, and then changes his name to Muhammad Ali, via his association with the Nation of Islam. He's got a colorful entourage around him, and they're almost all familiar faces, which is always nice. Ron Silver as Ali's trainer Angelo Dundee; Jamie Foxx as his eccentric pal Bundini; Jeffrey Wright as a photographer friend; Giancarlo Esposito as Cassius' father.
There's an interlude that winds itself around the periphery of Malcolm X's estrangement from the Nation of Islam, and while a part of me was thinking I'd seen all this (and better) in the movie Malcolm X, it becomes very apparent why we see all this strife, including Malcolm and Ali traveling to Africa. By the time Malcolm is assassinated, the impact on Ali is pretty profound. This was not only his close friend, but also a public figure who helped to form Ali's public conscience. It's a loss that's deeply felt in the movie.
Around this time, Ali starts seeing Sonji, played by Smith's real-life wife Jada Pinkett Smith. It's a short-lived relationship, mostly because the Nation disapproves of her character and inability to be meek and humble. But they sure could dance.
The next major event for Ali is his getting drafted into the Vietnam War. Mann's structuring of the scenes thus far make sure the audience knows how much of this was a political culmination of the establishment's fear of Ali as a black militant figure. Everybody knows Ali refused military service, but Mann and Smith put the fiery words into Ali's mouth as he defends his decision.
If the movie ever slows down, it's this middle period, where Ali is barred from boxing inside the United States (and barred from traveling outside the country). There's a lot of haggling over logistics here, trying to stay out of jail for draft-dodging, plus a lot of time spent with Bundini's substance abuse and Nona Gaye as the woman who would be Ali's wife.
Before I get to why Will Smith should have an Oscar, I need to shout out what a great job everybody in this cast is doing. Even though I still think Voight got nominated less for a great performance than for playing a well-known character and wearing a lot of makeup, the Cosell/Ali scenes have some great back-and-forth dialogue and are hugely entertaining. Jamie Foxx was not a very well-regarded In Living Color alumnus before this movie turned him into a critical fave, and suddenly three years later he was winning an Oscar for Ray. Jeffrey Wright has one line-reading I absolutely adore, as Team Ali watches the famous "down goes Frazier!" fight where Frazier gets upset by George Foreman. His delivery is so low-impact and mumbly, like he imagined he had a hugely impactful thing to say and just forgot it. Very "The jerk store called, and they're running out of you!"
Also I absolutely adored Mykelti Williamson (who will probably always be known for Bubba from Forrest Gump, even though he's done so much good work in his career and also Final Destination 4) as Don King, promoter of Ali/Foreman's "Rumble in the Jungle" bout in Zaire. The press conference announcing the match is a joy to watch, though Mann makes sure to contrast King's cartoonishness with Ali's creeping doubts that he can beat Foreman.
Course, they can't all be winners. Of all the actresses Mann could've cast to play reporter Veronica Porsche, who draws Ali's eye away from his wife (and ultimately becomes his third wife), he went with … Michael Michele? Who'd already so thoroughly bored us on E.R.?
In Zaire for the fight, Ali once again finds himself in the middle of political struggles; between King and Foreman; between Mobutu and Idi Amin and everybody else looking for an upper hand in Africa. Mann keeps reminding us of all the ways Ali couldn't just be a man or a boxer. The Rumble in the Jungle is given a whole lot of build-up, and rightfully so. Smith plays Ali's uncertainty riding just under the surface of his braggadocio.
Again, the boxing scenes for the Rumble in the Jungle look exquisite. The cinematographer on Ali, by the way, was Emmanuel Lubezki, who just won the last two cinematography Oscars, for Gravity and Birdman. This movie is one of the reasons he was so overdue two years ago.
The fight is epic, building to a climactic knockout and downpour, and the part of me that loves sports and drama and crescendos was all about it. Way to go, Michael Mann. You earned the right to end your movie on a freeze frame.
Final Thoughts: At the 2001 Oscars, Denzel Washington and Halle Berry took home Best Actor and Best Actress for their respective films. It was the first time black performers ever triumphed in both those categories at once. That Washington won for Training Day, a harsh, violent dirty-cop movie without a whole lot of prestige appeal, always seemed kind of odd. Not that the Oscars shouldn't look outside the prestige genres (they should!), but that they did so for Washington felt like a narrative in search of a performance. That narrative being: Denzel Washington, consummate leading man and former winner for Supporting Actor (for Glory), should have a Best Actor trophy and should be the first black Best Actor winner since Sidney Poitier. As acclaimed as his Training Day performance was, it almost didn't matter. He was Denzel.
It's always puzzled me that no such narrative built up around Will Smith that year. He was nominated. He was a hugely popular star, having made billions for Hollywood studios in summer blockbusters. He had managed to make the leap from frivolous action films to Serious Work, which, as I discussed earlier this week, isn't the easiest thing. I always assumed it was because his performance in Ali wasn't that great. But it is! I'd watch Ali one hundred times before I ever pick up Training Day again.
Who knows why momentum never built behind Smith's performance? Maybe voters couldn't bring themselves to award two actors who guest-starred in the same episode of Martin. The world may never know.
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