**Million Dollar Baby is an extremely well-done film that takes an abrupt turn to deal with incredibly sobering subjects that are definitely not what I thought I signed up for.** I know it’s supposedly a masterpiece, and I will lose some cred for saying this, but Million Dollar Baby was a dreadful movie. I spent the first half of the film falling in love with the hopeful, talented, and inspiring Maggie Fitzgerald and her redeeming of the cranky and lonely trainer, Frankie Dunn. But when the second half takes its giant turn, the story shifts from an endearing sports narrative about overcoming opposition and redemption to hopelessness and agony. Clint Eastwood directed a powerful story with impressive mastery, but the subject matter robbed the film of any enjoyment. For many, Million Dollar Baby deserved Best Picture at the Oscars. For me, I wish The Incredibles had claimed that victory.

The curmudgeonly “Frankie” (Clint Eastwood) runs a boxing gym with his stalwart “Eddie” (Morgan Freeman) that’s full of testosterone-charged no-hopers like “Berry” (Anthony Mackie) all going through the motions. The only exception is the young “Barch” (Jay Baruchel) who fancies himself as the best welterweight in the world, but who clearly couldn’t pull a pint let alone a punch. One afternoon, they notice a girl. Yep, a girl in their gym. “Frankie” tells “Maggie” (Hilary Swank) that he doesn’t train girls, and that her being tough isn’t enough. She’s persistent, though, and targets the less grumpy “Eddie” before gradually proving that she might have what it takes to make the big time. What now ensues sees her relationship with "Frankie" develop and for her to become something akin to the daughter we know he has become estranged from over the years. He’s not the only one with rocky family foundations. She comes from pretty poor, working class, stock and her mother (Margo Martindale) has little interest in the aspirations of her daughter, especially if it impacts on her benefits. “Maggie” proves to be resilient in the ring, makes some decent money and even manages to help her family but when tragedy stops her in her tracks, some hard truths and choices are going to have to be made, and true colours shown. Swank is superb here. Aside from the fact that she’s obviously trained hard to convince us visually, her characterisation oozes a strength, a dedication and an integrity that really comes off well. Eastwood is, as ever, sparing with his dialogue and he is by now a past-master at the less-is-more style of presentation as his burgeoning affection for “Maggie” grows in a suitably subdued, tough-love, fashion. Freeman, who narrates occasionally too, serves to anchor the film effectively and the effort from the enthusiastic Baruchel brings home that there is more to this sport than winning. The fight scenes are realistic and the production is designed to deliver a plausible look to a film that, as is so often true of those about boxing, shows us just how much of a lifeline - both psychological and physical, this can be. I felt the conclusion to be provocatively brave. It asks us questions well beyond the purview of a drama and takes us into the realms of ethics for which there is no obviously clear or agreeable solution. It's perhaps those final elements that turn this into something just a little more significant.