The best kinds of movies, like the best kinds of journalism, are not about a subject, but about people. For this reason, describing “Warrior” as an “MMA movie” is not quite accurate. Because Warrior is the best kind of movie, a complex film about family, set against a backdrop of sports.
The story unfolds in time, confidently led by director Gavin O’Connor, a name perhaps familiar to MMA fans for his stewardship of “The Smashing Machine,” a 2002 documentary of Mark Kerr. Despite its singular title, the film is essentially the story of a family that has been torn apart by a long history of tragedy. To call the family divided doesn’t quite do them justice; there doesn’t seem to be a prayer of reconciliation for them.
O’Connor’s deft touch unfolds from the opening frames, telling the parallel stories of estranged brothers Tommy and Brendan Conlon, and their father Paddy, a recovering alcoholic. The family is Pennsylvania born and bred, and that background shades their characterizations. Like many of the men from that region, they are blue-collar grinders who don’t always have a lot to say, but rather hint at difficulties beneath their troubled eyes.
At the outset, it appears Tommy (played by Tom Hardy) and Brendan (played by Joel Edgerton) could not have turned out more differently. While life for Tommy was so bad he literally ran off to war to escape his everyday existence, Brendan has settled into a suburban life complete with a teaching job, a marriage and children.
We quickly learn, however, that the brothers are indeed rather similar. Fourteen years after last seeing his brother and father, Tommy returns home to Pittsburgh with barely a word, but a request. He wants his father Paddy — played brilliantly by Nick Nolte — to coach him for an upcoming, $5 million MMA tournament called “Sparta.” As the story goes on, we learn that Tommy was at one time a high school wrestling standout, and Paddy was his coach, and Tommy soon makes clear that this is a business arrangement and nothing else.
Hardy’s riveting intensity and brooding silence tell a story that is always simmering below the surface. In due time, we learn more about his mysterious past, his selfless motivations to win Sparta, and the depth of feeling that led to his detachment from his family. None of it is revealed by Hardy, who excels at the hardest job an actor can have: acting without speaking.
There is a lot of that in Warrior. Despite a 2-hour, 20-minute run time, there are many pockets of silence, but none wasted. Unspoken communication is an ongoing theme in the movie. There is the implied family-altering history, there is a coach who uses music as a learning tool, and there is fighting as a solution to problems.
While Tommy and Paddy’s damaged relationship dangles in the balance, Brendan — who we learn is a former UFC fighter — is faced with financial difficulties of his own. For him, fighting is simply a way to make money, a selfless act of surrendering his body to provide for his wife and kids, even as they object.
Of course, Tommy and Brendan never quite know they are on a potential collision course until it’s too late.
Less than half of the movie is actually devoted to the tournament. MMA fans will see some familiar faces, like Nate Marquardt, Anthony Johnson, and referee Josh Rosenthal. The in-cage action is fairly close to reality, though there are a few moments that will cause fleeting cringes if you’re not one to voluntarily suspend disbelief. Most audiences, however, will have no problem looking past those small issues.
Nearly every key member of the cast shines in his role, particularly Nolte as a father desperate to mend the destroyed relationships between himself and his boys. Despite his time as a recovering alcoholic, Nolte’s character Paddy does not yet have the clarity of mind or perhaps the will to summon a real solution. He tries and repeatedly fails, even when Tommy is living under his roof again. Both sons have pieces of their father in the personalities. Tommy bottles everything up tight, and given his military background, you feel like he wouldn’t give up his feelings under the threat of waterboarding. Brendan at least tries, but like dad, he also hides things, not informing his wife of his plans to fight again until his mind is already made up.
Because of superficial similarities in genre, there have been comparisons between “Warrior” and “The Fighter,” the 2010 film based on the life of boxer Micky Ward. A comparison to a film that earned seven Academy Award nominations is quite complimentary, yet the films and performances within each are quite different. Hardy and Edgerton, for example, are nowhere near as well known as Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale, who played the two leads in The Fighter. One film is a biopic, the other is completely fictional. The Fighter finds its emotional balance in the love story between Ward and Charlene; Warrior is anchored solely in the roots of family. Finally, I would boldy add, Warrior is the better of the two films.
It is filled with layered performances, confidently directed and powerful. While most films have formulaic protagonist/antagonist relationships, it says plenty about Warrior that by the film’s climax, you’re not quite sure what to hope for or who to root for. Life’s conclusions aren’t always clear and clean, and this film leaves us the same way. Everything isn’t tied up nicely with a bow; it’s no Hollywood ending. It’s more challenging that that. There has been some early Oscar buzz for Warrior and its cast. For fans who have been subject to a series of MMA-related movie duds, that may come as a shock, but it is truly an excellent piece of moviemaking.
Warrior is also important for the place it will undoubtedly find in pop culture. Movements don’t take place in a day; they happen over time, in spurts, until a few waves of momentum become a tsunami. This is a film that’s good for the sport, not for technique or action, but for the humanization of its athletes, fictional though they may be. Tommy and Brendan may be troubled, but at least they’re fighting for something. For the remaining few who still see MMA’s athletes as brainless barbarians, it’s an opportunity to see fighters as real people, with real problems.
Much like MMA itself, “Warrior” has more at play than what we see at surface level. Tommy’s plotline has geopolitical overtones, Brendan’s shadows the current economic landscape in the U.S., and Paddy’s tells the universal tale of parental regret. The ultimate conclusion for the trio may not be ultimately conclusive, but it’s a step forward, and in their complex world, that’s just as welcome as a happy ending.
The best kinds of movies, like the best kinds of journalism, are not about a subject, but about people. For this reason, describing “Warrior” as an “MMA movie” is not quite accurate. Because Warrior is the best kind of movie, a complex film about family, set against a backdrop of sports.
The story unfolds in time, confidently led by director Gavin O’Connor, a name perhaps familiar to MMA fans for his stewardship of “The Smashing Machine,” a 2002 documentary of Mark Kerr. Despite its singular title, the film is essentially the story of a family that has been torn apart by a long history of tragedy. To call the family divided doesn’t quite do them justice; there doesn’t seem to be a prayer of reconciliation for them.
O’Connor’s deft touch unfolds from the opening frames, telling the parallel stories of estranged brothers Tommy and Brendan Conlon, and their father Paddy, a recovering alcoholic. The family is Pennsylvania born and bred, and that background shades their characterizations. Like many of the men from that region, they are blue-collar grinders who don’t always have a lot to say, but rather hint at difficulties beneath their troubled eyes.
At the outset, it appears Tommy (played by Tom Hardy) and Brendan (played by Joel Edgerton) could not have turned out more differently. While life for Tommy was so bad he literally ran off to war to escape his everyday existence, Brendan has settled into a suburban life complete with a teaching job, a marriage and children.
We quickly learn, however, that the brothers are indeed rather similar. Fourteen years after last seeing his brother and father, Tommy returns home to Pittsburgh with barely a word, but a request. He wants his father Paddy — played brilliantly by Nick Nolte — to coach him for an upcoming, $5 million MMA tournament called “Sparta.” As the story goes on, we learn that Tommy was at one time a high school wrestling standout, and Paddy was his coach, and Tommy soon makes clear that this is a business arrangement and nothing else.
Hardy’s riveting intensity and brooding silence tell a story that is always simmering below the surface. In due time, we learn more about his mysterious past, his selfless motivations to win Sparta, and the depth of feeling that led to his detachment from his family. None of it is revealed by Hardy, who excels at the hardest job an actor can have: acting without speaking.
There is a lot of that in Warrior. Despite a 2-hour, 20-minute run time, there are many pockets of silence, but none wasted. Unspoken communication is an ongoing theme in the movie. There is the implied family-altering history, there is a coach who uses music as a learning tool, and there is fighting as a solution to problems.
While Tommy and Paddy’s damaged relationship dangles in the balance, Brendan — who we learn is a former UFC fighter — is faced with financial difficulties of his own. For him, fighting is simply a way to make money, a selfless act of surrendering his body to provide for his wife and kids, even as they object.
Of course, Tommy and Brendan never quite know they are on a potential collision course until it’s too late.
Less than half of the movie is actually devoted to the tournament. MMA fans will see some familiar faces, like Nate Marquardt, Anthony Johnson, and referee Josh Rosenthal. The in-cage action is fairly close to reality, though there are a few moments that will cause fleeting cringes if you’re not one to voluntarily suspend disbelief. Most audiences, however, will have no problem looking past those small issues.
Nearly every key member of the cast shines in his role, particularly Nolte as a father desperate to mend the destroyed relationships between himself and his boys. Despite his time as a recovering alcoholic, Nolte’s character Paddy does not yet have the clarity of mind or perhaps the will to summon a real solution. He tries and repeatedly fails, even when Tommy is living under his roof again. Both sons have pieces of their father in the personalities. Tommy bottles everything up tight, and given his military background, you feel like he wouldn’t give up his feelings under the threat of waterboarding. Brendan at least tries, but like dad, he also hides things, not informing his wife of his plans to fight again until his mind is already made up.
Because of superficial similarities in genre, there have been comparisons between “Warrior” and “The Fighter,” the 2010 film based on the life of boxer Micky Ward. A comparison to a film that earned seven Academy Award nominations is quite complimentary, yet the films and performances within each are quite different. Hardy and Edgerton, for example, are nowhere near as well known as Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale, who played the two leads in The Fighter. One film is a biopic, the other is completely fictional. The Fighter finds its emotional balance in the love story between Ward and Charlene; Warrior is anchored solely in the roots of family. Finally, I would boldy add, Warrior is the better of the two films.
It is filled with layered performances, confidently directed and powerful. While most films have formulaic protagonist/antagonist relationships, it says plenty about Warrior that by the film’s climax, you’re not quite sure what to hope for or who to root for. Life’s conclusions aren’t always clear and clean, and this film leaves us the same way. Everything isn’t tied up nicely with a bow; it’s no Hollywood ending. It’s more challenging that that. There has been some early Oscar buzz for Warrior and its cast. For fans who have been subject to a series of MMA-related movie duds, that may come as a shock, but it is truly an excellent piece of moviemaking.
Warrior is also important for the place it will undoubtedly find in pop culture. Movements don’t take place in a day; they happen over time, in spurts, until a few waves of momentum become a tsunami. This is a film that’s good for the sport, not for technique or action, but for the humanization of its athletes, fictional though they may be. Tommy and Brendan may be troubled, but at least they’re fighting for something. For the remaining few who still see MMA’s athletes as brainless barbarians, it’s an opportunity to see fighters as real people, with real problems.
Much like MMA itself, “Warrior” has more at play than what we see at surface level. Tommy’s plotline has geopolitical overtones, Brendan’s shadows the current economic landscape in the U.S., and Paddy’s tells the universal tale of parental regret. The ultimate conclusion for the trio may not be ultimately conclusive, but it’s a step forward, and in their complex world, that’s just as welcome as a happy ending.
The best kinds of movies, like the best kinds of journalism, are not about a subject, but about people. For this reason, describing “Warrior” as an “MMA movie” is not quite accurate. Because Warrior is the best kind of movie, a complex film about family, set against a backdrop of sports.