They Fight review – boxing drama is an emotional gutpunch

In the lineage of Creed and Million Dollar Baby, They Fight makes yet another compelling case for why boxing remains a timeless allegory for the human condition. This time it’s Walt (André Holland) who’s staring up at a 10-count. Once a luminary on Washington DC’s boxing scene, Walt saw his promising career derailed by the city’s drug trade. After an extended prison stint, he is paroled and intent on reuniting with his old flame (Samira Wiley) and their young son.

Walt trudges back to the disregarded after-school gym where he first found his footing in the sweet science, hoping to chart a new path forward, only to be drawn into its revival by the resident counselor, Slim (Wendell Pierce), and a trio of boys spoiling for a fight. But it’s best friends Quincey (Toussaint Francois Battiste) and Peanut (Anthony B Jenkins) who wind up on a collision course for a national title belt as their futures, Walt’s reintegration into society and the gym’s place in DC’s rapidly changing Ward 8 hang in the balance.

Like the young fighters at its center, They Fight carries itself with purpose. There isn’t an ounce of fat on its 90-minute frame. The film arrives with clear advantages, to be sure: it is adapted from an acclaimed documentary that premiered eight years before this feature made its Tribeca debut, and it benefits from the backing of ESPN’s Andscape, a Black culture and sports platform known for getting the nuances right – even when the film does lean a bit too much on faux-SportsCenter segments for exposition. You may also find yourself rolling your eyes when the film likens Walt’s life to “one of those ESPN 30 for 30 docs”, as if They Fight weren’t made in part to address exactly that oversight by the prestigious series.

Ultimately, what distinguishes They Fight is that it doesn’t reach for the knockout. It wins on points, steadily piling up emotional victories until its themes of redemption and forgiveness leave you grappling for the Kleenex box. Director Sheldon Candis teases the warmth out of what otherwise might have been a lament for the memories and lives that gentrification bulldozes and builds over.

Adversity wallops Quincy and Peanut; neighborhood violence, lost parents are all blows that force the kids to grow up fast. But even amid the pain, Candis makes room for precious joy: a tender family dinner, the boys clumsily flirting with female classmates at the community pool, Walt teasing Slim for dispensing Zen koans while slurping ramen noodles. They’re the sort of scenes that stick with you after the final bell, the moments that make clear the true stakes of the bout.

But it’s the quiet confidence of They Fight that invites inevitable comparison to Million Dollar Baby and, more recently, the 2024 feature The Fire Inside based on the life of world champion boxer Claressa Shields. Battiste and Jenkins fill the screen with an earnestness and sweetness reminiscent of a young Michael B Jordan in The Wire; one can easily imagine looking back at They Fight a decade from now as the film that announced two extraordinary talents.

It’s hard not to be reminded of The Wire, with Pierce delivering yet another noble performance in service of a community under strain and Andre Royo’s shimmering turn as Peanut’s wayward father. Mykelti Williamson makes the most of limited screen time yet again, and the women of They Fight – led by Wiley (from Orange Is the New Black) and Tinashe Kajese-Bolden (of the DC Universe) – give the film an unshakeable emotional ballast in the face of constant narrative aftershocks.

But it’s Holland who reminds viewers that he remains one of the finest leading men of his generation, despite rarely receiving due recognition for the work he’s done since his Moonlight breakout – from High Flying Bird to Love, Brooklyn. Holland is incredibly deft at playing the subtle beats, keeping Walt’s pain tucked behind his soft eyes and pursed lips.

He makes it so satisfying to watch Walt finally let it all go as he finds purpose guiding his young charges through back yard boxing drills using bricks and tires – old-school methods that mask an almost algorithmic approach to the sweet science. “The numbers are the code,” Walt tells the kids of their punch combinations. “You master the code, you master your opponent. You may hate my methods, but you’re gonna love the results.”

In its final grace note, They Fight closes with an end credits scene juxtaposing the film’s principal cast with their real-life counterparts. Of course, as with all boxing stories, it’s more about the journey than the main event. But that marriage of feature and documentary gives the hard-earned triumph that extra bit of ringside catharsis. It’s why They Fight doesn’t just win on the cards. It hits you right in the feels.