Normally, I hate biopics. They're long, they're cheesy, and there's always some kind of artificial climax-- the character achieves fame, or loses fame, or dies. These flicks are often slow and weirdly structured because, guess what? Our lives aren't lived in three acts.
Know why I liked Cinderella Man? It didn't pretend to tell a whole life story. How can you? It's a life, man! Instead, this little boxing pic (I can say that 'cause it'll get neglected for next year's Oscars, unless Renee is rewarded yet again) does what a good biopic should: chooses a key time or series of events in a character's life and follows it closely. In this case, the film follows the few key years in Jim Braddock's life and career that anyone cares about: his low-level fame as a possible contender, his fall from grace, and his return. All set in the direst few years of the depression. The stakes are laid out simply-- he needs to work to feed his family, and his best work is in the ring. I don't think I've ever seen a biopic in which the last act is so driven, so focused-- it all comes down to one, long fight, in which everything --his family, and his life-- is on the line.
I wouldn't argue it's a great film, but at least it moved forward with purpose. No time spent in Braddock's childhood, falling in love with boxing as he fended off schoolyard bullies. Because, I mean, really, who would care?