Real Steel Review

Nothing unexpected happens in Real Steel. We’ve seen its characters, themes, and scenes in other movies. There is a moment in the film though where Charlie (Hugh Jackman) tells his son Max (Dakota Goyo) about Sugar Ray Leonard. He’s trying to convince Max to do something flashy that looks a bit silly. His message is there are many boxers, but it’s their flair that makes that makes them great individuals – their charm. The same is true of Real Steel: what it lacks in grace it makes up for with swagger.

Real Steel is set in a possible future. Boxing still exists but humans have been replaced by hulking, expensive, complex, remote-controlled robots. Charlie is one of the last human boxers who managed to transition into ‘bot boxing. He has a son, Max, who he’s never met because Charlie abandoned him. After Max’s mom dies Charlie trades custody to Max’s aunt for $50,000. One of the conditions of that deal is that he is forced to spend a summer with Max. Fresh on new debts Charlie takes his $50,000 and Max to begin their unlikely journey together in the robot boxing circuit.

In sports (and in life) Charlie has the same problem as Eddie Felson (Paul Newman) in The Hustler: all talent and no character. His landlord/former flame/enabler Bailey (Evangeline Lilly) tells us when Charlie was at his best as a boxer he was “beautiful.” She reminds him: “Win or lose it’s not over until someone is on the mat.” Unfortunately, Charlie has applied this theory to life. His priorities are all mixed up. We see a phone call wake him one morning and he reaches for the half empty beer bottle before he reaches the for the phone. Robot boxing is a gamblers game and Jack approaches it like an addict: the bigger you lose the more you bet next time. He’s a dick to everyone, especially Max. People are simply obstacles in the way to what he mistakes for glory, but is actually an escape from feeling like a failure. Our first glimpse of him is in his truck behind the reflection of the front window. In the reflection are the bright lights of a fair. Charlie hangs his head and stays in the truck; his world isn’t about having fun — it’s about beating himself up.

Feeling sorry for Charlie helps get us passed how much a dick he is and allows us to cheer for him. I’m not convinced it’s entirely because Hugh Jackman is pretty and well-liked, but it helps. There’s a promo clip on imdb that shows Charlie bargaining with Bailey. They chose this clip for promotional material because Jackman and Lilly sell their connection subtly and effortlessly. Real Steel‘s tender scenes leave light imprints on the viewer. Like when Charlie and Max find their robot, Atom, at the ‘bot scrapyard. Max digs Atom out of the ground all night with nothing but his hands and fingernails. The decision to go with animatronic puppets for the robots meant more tangible performances; meant both the character Max and the actor Dakota loved Atom. He runs with Atom early in the morning to train and smiles at him differently than he does others. Lovingly.

All the genuine feel-good stuff dims the films flaws. There’s also some clever direction and pacing from Shawn Levy. The recent fight flick Warrior might use action “properly” (sparsely and entirely at its conclusion as a cathartic release of an entire film spent building events and characters), but Real Steel keeps its feet moving. There are plenty of ‘bot fights each with a different element of the story at stake that also defines our characters. The most engaging aspect is the layers with which we interact with the robot boxing. Charlie and Max control Atom with their voice or by mimicry. We’re cheering for all of them, but Levy does a good job on focusing on the fact that Charlie can’t make Atom do whatever he wants. Seeing our hero somewhat powerless during a conflict wills us into cheering multiple successes: that Charlie uses the correct move, that Atom performs that move correctly, and that the move connects successfully. I can’t remember the last film I saw where an audience felt so engaged with the conflict on the screen.

Of course that depends on how much you can suspend disbelief. There’s a lot of opportunity for a viewer to cry bullshit. For one, the way Max and Charlie interact is fun and quick-paced, but completely unrealistic. We’re expected to believe Max loves robot boxing so much he can work and travel with a Father who abandoned him and sold him, while Charlie is being a dick. Kids aren’t so quick to forgive. Nor are they as plot-conveniently gifted with machinery and programming as Max appears to be. Screenwriter John Gatins has worked on Dreamer, Coach Carter and Hard Ball. I like Hard Ball. But some of the things you have to accept in about Hard Ball exist in Real Steel. In Hard Ball there’s a kid pitcher who needs to hear Notorious B.I.G.’s Big Poppa to pitch well. In Real Steel Max enters each match performing hip hip moves while Atom follows behind him. It’s a silly as it sounds.

Still, silly unbelievable things matter less when you’re invested and dazzled. The greatest compliment I can pay the puppeteers, puppetmakers and CG guys was I didn’t consider whether I was watching puppets or CG while watching. I merely enjoyed.

Walking into the theatre I was shocked by how many kids were there and how excited the seemed. One boy screamed, “it’s going to be epicly epic!” I didn’t see that kid after the film – it’s hard to see with misty eyes. Even if our words differ I bet our sentiments are similar. It’s uplifting to watch a man who lets himself get beaten on the ropes fight back because his loved ones remind him of his worth with the heartfelt clamour of their cheering.