Boxing Gym by Frederick Wiseman

Film #6 at the BFI London Film Festival 2010


Every art, every sport, every repeated ritual has a rhythm of its own making... this is almost a secret that practitioners effortlessly tap into, while for many outsiders this rhythm seems almost hypnotic in its pace, sound and sometimes, fury.

Boxing Gym, a documentary by Frederick Wiseman, captures the rhythm of the sport of boxing in all its glorious variations. Filmed in Lord's Gym at Austin-Texas, the film looks at the fascinating variety of people who jab and dance around on the gym's rings... men hiss/sputter their way into punches as babies watch, a mother bring her epileptic son to see if there's a chance for him to start, grandpa's almost do a slow waltz in the ring, all the while timing themselves to the omnipresent clang of the timer.

As the blurb on the BFI site says, 'this is a story about the human condition as much as it is about boxing'... the 'human condition' in its relentless pursuit of perfection and triumph and the ebbing impotence that awaits us all around the corner. If you're not the type that is taken aback by the wonder of all this, then the sheerly physical intensity of Richard Lord and his fighting women (and the occassional man!) will keep you alive through the 91 minutes of the film.

There is an utterly beautiful scene in the film where two of Lord's best boxers, a young woman and a slightly older well muscled man, practice in the same ring... they don't fight each other but shadow-box in the same enclosed space. The woman slips around the ring, breathing softly and scarily, in sleek sinous movements... yet you instinctively sense the immense, trapped power that lies within her, especially when you get a glimpse of her eerily focused, fierce eyes . The man on the other hand is much more direct and blunt about the retribution that he will exact... like a well oiled machine going though its paces, he chops the space of the ring into neat pieces, with angular shifts, sharp turns and the constant hiss that flies with his punches. Wiseman does a brilliant job mapping this interplay between the sexes... the footwork of the boxers, their glances, the movement of their muscles and in doing so, captures the spell-binding contrast between a man and a woman in a fighting space. Not very unlike two dangerous and completely alive animals in an arena, testing their territorial limits, marking their borders, the air crackling with the barely contained danger of it all.

PS: To be seen after reading Gordon Marino's take on the philosophy behind boxing in the NYT here.

Image from the mubi site here