Capsule Reviews: 'Hard Truths' & 'The Fire Inside'

by Philip Price

Hard Truths

Photo: Bleecker Street

As someone who has always taken the obstacles life throws my way as enough to deal with, I have, in turn, always found it difficult to understand and sometimes sympathize with those who can't get out of their own way - creating hurdles in their own minds, sometimes based on experience, sure - but the more confounding perpetrators are those who do as such and then complain about it as if a single, personal choice can't resolve these issues: changing their way of thinking. It's a complicated web, and there are often many layers to people's stories and identities that have compiled these internal obstacles, shaping who they've become, which is exactly what writer/director Mike Leigh is exploring in “Hard Truths.”
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Through Marianne Jean-Baptiste's Pansy, an angry, mean-spirited woman who annoys the viewer as much as she does everyone in her own life, we meet someone intent on picking fights in almost every encounter to feel something or fill a void she seems too ashamed to admit she let open. Her marriage is loveless, her 22-year-old son is grown and still lives at home (God bless Moses, though), and they are all she feels she has to show for her life. She is angry because she is disappointed in herself. As much as Leigh probes the human condition through Pansy, his screenplay is almost equally intent on exploring the ramifications of Pansy's bad-tempered behavior on those closest to her.

About halfway through the film, we get seemingly random scenes featuring Pansy's sister's (Michele Austin) children (Sophia Brown and Ani Nelson) who are grown, with careers, and dealing with conflicts and prejudices in their workplaces, which is ultimately emblematic of the movie as a whole. While technically centered around Jean-Baptiste's heartgrating Pansy, this film is about the difference between the strong and the bold. Hurling insults loudly at strangers you disagree with could be considered a bold move, but those who are mature enough to rise above such behavior because they think through scenarios while simultaneously considering the multitude of reasons the bold might hold such a position, that takes strength and genuine wisdom. Leigh isn't simply paraphrasing the idea that "bullies act out because they're damaged too" either but is instead taking it a level beyond by showing how those strong enough to bear the burdens of life must also bear the burdens of the less adept, whether through damage or by choice.

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The Fire Inside

Photo: Amazon MGM Studios

Rags to riches is one of the many tropes “The Fire Inside” utilizes to structure the story of Claressa Shields within the sports drama pantheon, but first-time feature director (and noted cinematographer) Rachel Morrison uses these familiar building blocks to mold something fresh while still delivering the kind of feel-good, heartfelt sports drama featuring a child if not necessarily a team of children that frankly, they don’t make anymore. 
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Said freshness primarily comes from the honesty of Shields’ story, which the film doesn’t try to shy away from. Beginning in 2006, in the dead of winter in Flint, Mich., we are first introduced to an 11-year-old Shields making her way to a gym for the first time, meeting Bryan Tyree Henry’s Jason Crutchfield - the coach who will inspire and change the course of her life - and as the motifs play out we get a sense of the tone and direction this story might take. And then. Then, the film will make slight choices, such as having the young Claressa instinctively back away from Crutchfield the first time he goes in to congratulate her with a hug.

This style of presentation continues throughout, whether in juxtaposing the breakfast situations at Claressa’s house, who has a borderline negligent single mother, with that of Crutchfield, who has a family of his own and seems as present with them as he is when coaching boxing voluntarily. These aspects are continually fleshed out as we move forward five and six years shortly after that; the film is never afraid to show the minutiae of Shields’ particular circumstances.

As much naturally crescendos when what would typically be the climactic, triumphant moment comes right at the hour mark, leaving another 45 minutes for Morrison and Barry Jenkins’ screenplay to explore what makes Shields’ story so singular. The film makes it clear why Shields is drawn to the sport of boxing, and her no-frills approach to as much when speaking to the press conveys more about her character and background in a handful of seconds than most films can manage, period.

The revelation is that Claressa’s biggest battles weren’t inside the ring - even when on the biggest stage possible - but instead came in the form of a complete rejection of what comes after being crowned the best in the world based solely on one’s sex. Shields faces a mad, cruel world yet somehow finds a way through by remaining as sincere as she does uncompromising, which is the same attitude Morrison brings to “The Fire Inside.”