Southpaw

About as subtle as a right uppercut to the jaw, Southpaw is nonetheless a welcome addition to the boxing melodrama genre.

Gyllenhaal brings every ounce of his physical self to the role, but rippling muscles and a mashed-up face don't really constitute a performance. It's not quite his fault that Billy is such a maddening character.

The modicum of pleasure delivered by "Southpaw" arrives thanks to its cast, who struggle bravely and energetically with the hopelessly bland text and the invisible, impersonal direction.

It's like a 1930s ring melodrama tarted up with lifestyle bling and hyper-professional whoomph, but it's essentially bantamweight.

Jake Gyllenhaal continues his streak of brilliant performances the Academy will likely ignore.

I veered between being awed and appalled, though mostly the latter.

Southpaw uses the world of boxing as an excuse to talk about different adversities in life, especially around emotional ties. Therefore each fight and each blow contains a meaning in itself, and with each of them the boxer will give a part of his life.

The entire film hinges on Gyllenhaal, because everything else onscreen adopts the worn-out blueprints of every boxing film you've ever seen.

Can't punch its way out of the ring of boxing movie cliches.

Jake Gyllenhaal stars in a completely predictable but reasonably stirring boxing drama.