Creed (15.)
Directed by Steven Caple Jr.
Starring Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Dolph Lundgren, Florian Munteanu, Wood Harris and Phylicia Rashad. 130 mins.
Michael Owen, the resolutely dull ex-England footballer, famously hates movies and claims to have only seen eight in his entire life. “I like factual stuff. I don't like being kidded by anything.” You'd expect me to be outraged by that but actually, I kind of understand him. Why are we so willing to be taken in, jerked this way and that, by dramatic manipulation?
I have to wonder though if his view has been warped by the disproportionate number of sports films he's seen. Sports movies are like watching a match you know has been fixed. This is Rocky 8, for crying out loud. There are some superficial changes but fundamentally it's just like all the others. You know what is going to happen, and you can't even put a bet on it. Do we really have nothing better to do?
Well, maybe not. The previous Creed had revitalised the Rocky saga by introducing us to the son of Apollo Creed, Rocky's great rival turned friend in the early films and the follow up addresses events in Rocky IV (Michael Owen's favourite/ least hated film apparently) when he is killed in the ring by the hulking Russian Ivan Drago, (Lundgren.) After becoming the heavyweight boxing champion, in a surprisingly muted sequence, Adonis (Jordan) finds himself being baited into fighting Drago's son (Munteanu.)
Creed II reminds me of A Star Is Born, in that it delivers a soppy sentimental tale with surprising finesse and dignity. The performances of Jordan and Thompson as the lead couple are really exceptional, giving depth to scenes and characters that have no business with depth. Even the fearsome Munteanu manages to give Drago Jr an abused child sense of betrayal.
Stallone's Rocky films were heart-on-the-sleeve affairs, blunt appeals to your emotions; the Creeds are a little bit more restrained. They carry themselves like proper grown-up dramas but when the blood starts to hit the canvass they are shameless bellows of emotions. The climax had the crowd roaring their approval and support as if the outcome was in some kind of doubt.
Directed by Steven Caple Jr.
Starring Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Dolph Lundgren, Florian Munteanu, Wood Harris and Phylicia Rashad. 130 mins.
Michael Owen, the resolutely dull ex-England footballer, famously hates movies and claims to have only seen eight in his entire life. “I like factual stuff. I don't like being kidded by anything.” You'd expect me to be outraged by that but actually, I kind of understand him. Why are we so willing to be taken in, jerked this way and that, by dramatic manipulation?
I have to wonder though if his view has been warped by the disproportionate number of sports films he's seen. Sports movies are like watching a match you know has been fixed. This is Rocky 8, for crying out loud. There are some superficial changes but fundamentally it's just like all the others. You know what is going to happen, and you can't even put a bet on it. Do we really have nothing better to do?
Well, maybe not. The previous Creed had revitalised the Rocky saga by introducing us to the son of Apollo Creed, Rocky's great rival turned friend in the early films and the follow up addresses events in Rocky IV (Michael Owen's favourite/ least hated film apparently) when he is killed in the ring by the hulking Russian Ivan Drago, (Lundgren.) After becoming the heavyweight boxing champion, in a surprisingly muted sequence, Adonis (Jordan) finds himself being baited into fighting Drago's son (Munteanu.)
Creed II reminds me of A Star Is Born, in that it delivers a soppy sentimental tale with surprising finesse and dignity. The performances of Jordan and Thompson as the lead couple are really exceptional, giving depth to scenes and characters that have no business with depth. Even the fearsome Munteanu manages to give Drago Jr an abused child sense of betrayal.
Stallone's Rocky films were heart-on-the-sleeve affairs, blunt appeals to your emotions; the Creeds are a little bit more restrained. They carry themselves like proper grown-up dramas but when the blood starts to hit the canvass they are shameless bellows of emotions. The climax had the crowd roaring their approval and support as if the outcome was in some kind of doubt.
