2 out of 5

Director: Uwe Boll

As usual in a Boll review, let me establish that I am interested by the director.  He’s definitely made some tripe, and has chosen to express himself publicly in questionable ways, but I appreciate his momentum and there are some definite highlights and interesting flicks in his career.  Watching a lot of his movies, it’s also easier to get a sense at what his strengths are as a filmmaker.  Unfortunately, those strengths can’t much apply to “Fist,” the oddly paced, simplistic tale of German boxing star Max Schmeling.  Max’s story is an interesting one, filled with peaks and valleys of fights and losses in the ring, treading water in Nazi Germany, and maintaining a sense of nobility throughout his career and life.  But Boll and scripter Timo Berndt decide to fracture the narrative by starting out in WWII – during which Max was essentially forced to participate as (within the film’s story) a way for the government to quietly shush his boxing loss to Joe Louis under the ol’ Aryan carpet – and having Schmeling detail the rise of his career to a prisoner he’s overseeing.  The reason for this starting point is unclear, as unclear as what events are supposed to be moving or sad, exciting or frightening, with the Schmeling timeline moving at a not well detailed speed from losses to wins, then back to the war and, now we’re done with our flashbacks, on to the final fights before Max would retire.  Along the way, details of heavy historical events are dribbled in and then shuffled past, not giving too much weight to any fore- or background aspect of the story.  Boll cast real boxer Henry Maske, who brings across a charming aloofness for Schmeling but can’t dare bring any emotions to his wooing of future wife Anny Ondra, though actress Susanne Wuest doesn’t assist in that task either.  The boxing scenes also mostly fall flat, Boll (my guess) not experienced at blocking the style of action and no one able to train these real boxers on how to make the fake stuff seem like it hurts.  When Maske is training, you can see the power in his jabs, and the footwork and pacing is more true to real-life boxing, but otherwise there’s just no passion in the ring.  The sets and production design also don’t convince so much here.  Uwe is normally good at making the small scale seem grand, but perhaps the scope was too grand here, and it just never really feels like the 1930s, nor do there seem to be enough extras to sell the crowd scenes.  And Boll’s dedication to hand-held work doesn’t match the tone of a biopic, robbing quieter moments of a stillness that could’ve elevated the emotions prickling at story’s edge.  But – all that being said – it’s a respectful film, and there is a sense of ‘purity’ to the pic, in that it wants to do right.  Which makes it watchable, if fractured.  Select moments suddenly come together – the Joe Louis fight is actually pretty exciting, and Kristalnacht very frenetic – and Maske isn’t asked to get emotive too often, so his friendly giant version of Max mostly works, and makes you accept his chummy treatment of almost everyone (friends, rivals, Nazis).  Boll is capable of better, but I just don’t think he was up to the task of an epic.  And, frankly, its in part a labor of love – as Max Schmeling’s story is certainly interesting, but lacking in enough big moments to, perhaps, make for the best film.