Film editors steal the show in ‘Cinderella Man’

Abby Lorenz

Four years into the great depression, former boxing champ James J. Braddock has lost almost everything — his house, his acclaim, his dignity and one of his front teeth. But he hasn’t lost his kindness, love for his family and, most importantly, his spirit.

“Cinderella Man,” directed by Ron Howard, is different than the usual man-down-on-his-luck-who-will-rise-again-and-triumph-over-adversity-story.

Most films of this nature involve a man who, as a former champ, refuses handouts despite destitution. Howard is too good a director for the clich‚ and presents a brilliantly moving character who knows there are more important things in life than his pride — like a warm apartment for his children.

Representing Braddock with dignity and respect is Russell Crowe, perfect as usual with his ability to transform himself both physically and emotionally into the character. As with Howard’s “A Beautiful Mind,” Crowe achieves Braddock’s humility and painfully loving nature so startlingly that for 144 minutes, Russell Crowe simply doesn’t exist.

Rounding out the Howard-Crowe team once again are editors — and the stars of “Cinderella Man” — Mike Hill and Dan Hanley. Yes, stars.

Hill is one of those rare filmmakers in modern cinema who not only understands the power of editing, but explores it, plays with it and creates new ways to affect the experience of a film.

The boxing scenes, though brutal, are crafted with care and skill, resulting in a captivating paradox of gruesome violence and primitive beauty.

The editors’ talent creates an intense experience which is painfully difficult to watch, but so visually stunning one can’t look away. Though they are exclusively behind-the-scenes participants, Hill’s and Hanley’s powerful and sensual style renders the editing an entirely separate character in itself, omnipresent over the experience of the audience.

They don’t simply assemble a scene — they orchestrate a visual symphony.

With Hill and Hanley’s outstanding craftsmanship and Howard’s always quietly sweeping vision, “Cinderella Man” is the most visually remarkable of Howard’s films yet.

Howard has always had a great talent for telling not just heart-warming stories, but gut-wrenching, jaw dropping stories that involve characters who are not only captivating, but achingly human. “Cinderella Man” is an example of what happens when filmmakers treat movies as they should be treated — as an artform.