The 10 Best Fight Films of All Time

With Warrior getting staggering reviews out of the gate, now seems as good a time as any to release our list of the Best Fighting Movies ever made. The requisites for making the cut are as follows: the film must be able to be considered a boxing movie, a wrestling movie, or another form of officially sanctioned fighting. So don’t start ‘roiding out when you don’t see Enter the Dragon or Legend of Drunken Master. The same goes for Jean Claude Van Damme’s canon of films. While admittedly not an expert on the recent addition to The Expendables 2, I know enough about Bloodsport to know a martial arts tournament where people die is not justly regulated.

Also not included – movies with lots of fights. I know, I know. The title is a little misleading here, but most of those would fall under the action movie genre. Fights must be in or around a ring or octagon to be considered here. Finally, in an effort to be fair to the other competitors, the Rocky series will be exempt from competition. What is clearly the best fighting franchise of all time doesn’t need to be mixing with what are comparative peons. Just know in your burning heart the films (other than Rocky V, of course) hold a place higher than the #1 seed on this list.

Got it? Good. Now, touch gloves and read on.

I know, I know. After listing all those regulations, I’m starting off the list with a film that barely qualifies as a fighting film. For the first three-fourths of this classic, I was ready to write it off. Granted, Brando’s performance is one for the ages and the anti-corruption parable holds tremendous relevancy to this day. But there’s no fighting. From the outset, Terry Malloy is a retired boxer. The line is “I coulda been a contenda”, not “I AM a condtenda”. He’s done fighting.

So how does it qualify? If you haven’t seen it (and I know plenty of folks from my generation who have not), stop reading and watch it to find out. For those wise enough to seek it out on Netflix instant or old enough to have watched it on VHS, you know it’s the final act that saves it. Like the other films on this list, there’s a title bout at the end. Malloy’s physical fight is with corrupt union boss Johnny Friendly, but his victory comes from standing up (physically and spiritually) for his beliefs – honesty, truth, and the workingman.

If the final showdown took place in a ring, On the Waterfront would be in the top five. As is, its fighter’s attitude earns it the last slot on this list.

That is not a typo. I did not mean to put an “o” instead of a “y”, just as I did not mean to choose James Earl Jones’ 1970 boxing drama over Samuel L. Jackson’s 1996 boxing comedy. The Great White Hype is a film adored by fight and film fans alike, and deservedly so. It takes all the stereotypes of the boxing genre and turns them against the audience. For once, filmmakers conning their audience is part of the fun.

Starring as a thinly veiled version of Don King, Jackson promotes the hell out of a match between the heavyweight champ, James “the Grim Reaper” Roeper (Damon Wayans, in his element) and the retired challenger Terry Conklin (Peter Berg). Most of the movie is Jackson selling the fight, Conklin preparing for the fight, and Wayans slacking off so much he shows up to the fight with a gut the size of a heavy bag.

But don’t expect heart to win out – The Great White Hype is not using its title ironically. Boxing is not about who’s strongest, toughest, or purest – skill is involved, despite what other films have taught you. The film is undoubtedly a dark comedy, but it’s necessary viewing for all fight film fans if only to keep reality from blurring.

Hotly contested for everything but Smith’s fine performance, Michael Mann’s Ali is a lengthy, slow-paced biography about a fast-talking athletic and social legend. It had a lot to live up to, and to many, it fell short.

How could it not? No movie could fully encompass the confounding, courageous Cassius Clay. Yet Mann’s attempt is an appropriately reflective, enamoring picture with a strong lead performance to boot. It takes a neutral stance on a man everyone had an opinion about, which may numb its impact to some while heightening it for others.

Unlike many of the other pictures on this list, Ali isn’t constructed around the final fight. The most noted historical moments for Ali the man, his fights, are not the most noteworthy in the movie about him. After all, Mann is trying to show you something you haven’t already seen instead of merely recreating your favorite moments from Ali’s fights. It may not be the greatest, but it’s great enough for this list.

Denzel Washington’s powerful performance was at least partially overshadowed by the controversy surrounding the film’s depiction of race. Those prejudices and complications aside, The Hurricane is a tremendous boxing film. It is not just about a boxer and his unjust imprisonment – it’s about how boxing and the mentality he gained from it helped him survive his confinement (and vice versa).

Washington more than plays Rubin “Hurricane” Carter – he inhabits him. He becomes him. The performance is an extremely difficult one because it calls on the lead to exhibit an internal mentality of stoic pride, an outward physicality of an improbably tough fighter, and the constant calmness of a cool, calculated, and intelligent individual. Washington moves smoothly from one aspect to the other and makes each uniquely fascinating.

Perhaps his and the film’s strongest scene is when Carter is initially locked in solitary confinement. His mental state cracking, the champ is forced to debate openly which part of him can survive inside. His anger fights with his humanity, one calling the other names and the second begging for survival. It’s a captivating scene, shot in an almost identical style to the one in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers when Gollum debates with his reflection in a lake. Here, though, the camera hovers on Washington, letting the powerful performer do the work on his own – no costar necessary, reflection or otherwise.

The Hurricane isn’t about the final fight in the ring, either, but its fighters’ mentality serves the whole film, and the early fights do matter. They say more about the man than much of the film’s fight-less second half. At the very least, watch it for Washington. He didn’t get the Oscar he wanted, but he can still get your eyes.

Though it’s certainly lost some of its luster since its impressive Oscar run in 2004, Clint Eastwood’s last acting role in a good movie (yeah, Gran Torino is terrible and you know it) will never be forgotten, and deservedly so.

At its onset, the film feels like your standard boxing tale. An underdog fighter hires a reluctant manager to get a title shot. The twist was supposed to be that this time, the fighter was a woman. That is, until the real twist arrived in the film’s shocking final act. The movie changed. The message changed. The formula was forever altered.

And damn if there wasn’t some good fighting. From Eastwood fixing his first fighter’s nose to the final, ill-fated battle between Maggie Fitzgerald and Billie “The Blue Bear”, these sequences stand toe to toe with the other great fight scenes in film history. While it will never be a title contender, Million Dollar Baby has earned the respect of its peers.

Ron Howard’s Depression era boxing drama was actually ahead of its time. The story of James Braddock would have played much better today (in my opinion), during a time of economic turmoil when people go to the movies for escapism. You see, Cinderella Man is about a fighter forced into retirement due to injury during one of the worst times in history to be unemployed. He gets a second shot at the ring and makes the most of it, becoming a hero to the working class and an icon for America.

I know audiences aren’t too keen on watching movies with even the slightest relation to the real world right now, but Howard’s emotionally affecting tale has two factors going for it. The first is distance. The time period clearly sets it apart from modern times for those who don’t want to make the connection. The second aspect favoring its release is a true hero story, something sorely lacking in theaters now. Sure, superheroes are all over the place, but their appeal is limited to the fantasy world. Braddock really did what he did. He gave hope to our grandfathers. Sell that, and you’ll sell a lot.

I know what’s scaring you off, though, and I’ll be the first to admit my distaste for Renee Zellweger. Yet she holds her own here, and it’s no small feat next to Crowe, who in 2005, was at the top of his game. This was only his second movie since coming off back-to-back-to-back Oscar nominations from 2000-2002, and his first was the undervalued Master and Commander. No matter when you watch it, though, Cinderella Man is an incredible story with equally talented actors to support it.

The only well-known boxing documentary is probably the only one casual fight fans need to see. Before the fictionalized version of Ali was released in 2001, fight fans got to see the man himself in Leon Gast’s outstanding Academy Award winning documentary on the 1974 bout between Ali and the heavyweight champion of the world George Foreman, known best as “The Rumble in the Jungle”.

Gast’s footage is outstanding. He has multiple interviews with Ali, an unbelievable amount of behind the scenes recordings, and a natural eye for his subjects. The many stories going on at the time (race, war, politics) could have burdened the film if its leader wasn’t so focused on chronicling everything that lead up to one of the greatest fights in the history of the sport. Instead, each gets its due time, but never outside of context.

Best of all, Gast sets aside the final thirty minutes for exclusive fight coverage. Every punch thrown is seen and each crucial blow, movement, and strategy is dissected by journalists who were there. Norman Mailer and George Plimpton’s accounts are relied upon in particular, and each is as concisely depictive in their interviews as they are in their written words. Gast also gives us some beautiful shots of the fight’s most ferocious punches in slow motion, sometimes two or three times. There was never an instant where I had to rewind because I wanted to see something again – Gast gives us all the best shots from the best angle possible.

The whole picture clocks in at a mere 89 minutes, so for those of you putting it off – stop. Flip on Netflix instant and enjoy yourself. You’ll be on your feet by the end anyway.

You think this might be too high a ranking for a film released less than a year ago? I think it might be too low. David O. Russell and his movie were robbed blind by the Academy last year. Sure, Bale and Leo got their deserved awards, but The Fighter deserved a sweep instead of a few nods of recognition. Years from now, I hope we, the film buffs of the world, look back at 2010 and say, “How did we make such a mistake?”

I’m not going to make another mistake by listing it too high now. The story of two brothers, both fighters from Massachusetts, had the heart of Rocky and the mouth of The Departed. “Yawh nawt fightin’, yawh nawt fightin’, and yawh nawt fightin’! I’m the one fightin’ heah!” and “Where’d you pahk the fahkin’ cah, Boo Boo?” will forever be a part of my vocabulary, just as “I’m nawt a fahkin’ cawp” will be uttered every trip to Bahston and Rocky will be watched every day.

Yet, there’s more than just personal bias swaying my ranking. The Fighter was a visceral rush and an undeniably well-crafted one to boot. I doubt anyone who had seen I Heart Huckabees was expecting this kind of heart from a film by the same director (not that I’m insulting Huckabees, just arguing it was a more of a head trip), even if they saw the brilliant integration of shots coming a mile off. No one could have predicted Amy Adams’ bold transformation, either, nor could they have known Wahlberg would so passionately adhere to his character and his film.

Oh, Mickey Rourke. It was almost unfair of Darren Aronofsky to have given you this role. What was hailed as the greatest acting comeback of the century at the time of its release has transformed into something almost as tragic as the film itself. Rourke, a fine thespian who lost his prime years to boxing (yes! A real boxer is on the list!), booze, and other boisterous activities, will never get another role as good as Randy “The Ram” Robinson.

It’s a good thing he nailed it. Another film denied its rightful dues by the Academy, Aronofsky’s The Wrestler is a harrowing tale of what athletes give up for their sport. Ok, so Randy didn’t exactly choose wrestling over raising his daughter, but my point is still valid for those familiar with the traumatic final scene. Shot in a grainy haze befitting of its New Jersey setting, The Wrestler doesn’t shy away from the dark corners of the sport many people refuse to call a sport. Real blood. Real pain. Real scars. It’s all here, along with some hefty emotional baggage carried through to the distressing end by an exceptional trio of actors.

The Wrestler also takes the trophy for most gruesome fight scenes. Though #1 on the list gives it a run for its money, those who have seen Randy deliver his signature move need hear only two words to cringe from the memory: staple gun. Anyone who dared say professional wrestlers aren’t athletes will shut up right quick after witnessing the world they inhabit here. They’re fighters, too, and Aronofsky proves it indisputably.

Oh, and in case you forgot – The Wrestler not only failed to score a Best Picture, Director, or Screenplay Oscar nomination, but Bruce Springsteen’s Golden Globe-winning song was also neglected by the Academy. After writing this list, I’m starting to think they may not like fighting movies as much as we thought (after Rocky). This does not bode well for Warrior.

De Niro.

“You didn’t get me down, Ray.”

Pesci.

“I heard things.”

Scorsese.

“I’m da boss. I’m da boss, I’m da boss, I’m da boss.”

And it’s the champ. There’s really nothing else to say here.