The movie boasts a talented cast, telling the true tale of Irish boxing trainer Ingle, who mentored a brash Sheffield youth from Middle Eastern migrant parents. Dubbed Naseem Hamed, the youngster was coached to stand up to racist bullies and transformed into a celebrity world champion in the 1990s. The trainer cultivated his showboating confidence and lethal fists, but after becoming rich, Hamed turned against his coach, excluding him and making him a mix of Falstaff and Danny Rose.
Brosnan plays the trainer; Amir El-Masry embodies the role of the prince, and Toby Stephens is the assertive promoter Warren, who recognized the potential that Ingle had uncovered.
Yet, the movie honestly misses the Prince’s fancy footwork: the fight scenes flow well, but the all-important story in between is repeatedly dull and one-note. There is no subtlety or contrast in the portrayal of the protagonist himself, and the actor, an otherwise outstanding performer, isn’t given the chance to display any depth or much of what might make his role really interesting – even though he’s obviously been training and looks very plausible in the ring.
The drama is often lumbered with utilitarian, expositional lines that inform you exactly what is going on and what we are supposed to be thinking (“Your journey began your boxing journey at seven years old …”). This is the sort of script that digital executives call “double-screen”, ensuring you know what’s going on while you’re viewing the film but also checking your phone. And, the background music is overpowering, sometimes almost overwhelming, particularly in the scene where Hamed gets overexcited visiting Warren in his palatial residence.
While El-Masry and Brosnan do their considerable best, their dynamic doesn’t quite ignites, and the big set-piece fight scenes are often anticlimactically cut short. The most important scene is certainly when, goaded beyond endurance in the training facility one day by Hamed as a delusional “old man”, the trainer actually proposes to get in the ring and fight him. All present in the gym is stunned and uneasy. In what way is this insanely risky standoff going to play out? What will be the ending? Certainly the champion is going to kill him? Alternatively will he emotionally hold back? It’s not clear.
This isn’t to imply that there aren’t some nice jabs. The actor elicits humor when Ingle informs a reporter what he’s teaching the kids from his local community: to oppose bias and when you encounter a paedophile, “Hit them in the bollocks”. Amusing too when the boxer squirms at the ridiculous antics Ingle makes him do in the beginning: posing as the “beast from the Middle East”.
Regarding the rift, the movie shows this as being exacerbated by a revealing book that Ingle is supposed to have written (a plot point clearly adapted from another source), and there is an intriguingly conceived final conversation – although the emotional tribute that Hamed is reportedly paid to his mentor after his death is merely referenced in the closing credits, and not shown on film. There is engaging content here, but the punches fail to connect.
The film was shown at the London film festival and is available in UK and Irish theaters from 9 January.
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