Film focus

WHAT: “Resurrecting the Champ”

RATED: PG-13 for some violence and brief language

RATING: 3½ stars

STARRING: Josh Hartnett, Samuel L. Jackson

As story of self-discovery, ‘Resurrecting the Champ’ is a knockout

Would you spin the truth to make yourself more impressive to someone you love? Would you hide a lie for money? What about cutting corners to advance your career?

“Resurrecting the Champ” is an astute morality tale set in the worlds of boxing and journalism, but the ethical questions it poses would be as crucial for doctors, cops or any profession where trust is a big part of the job description. The themes of masculinity and maturity it lays open will surely resonate with men everywhere.

Josh Hartnett plays Erik Kernan, a second-string sportswriter for a Denver paper who meets a homeless man claiming to be Battling Bob Satterfield (Samuel L. Jackson), a long-forgotten prizefighter once ranked third in the world. Erik, laboring in the shadow of his late father, a legendary sportscaster, sees the Champ’s hard-luck story as his ticket to the big leagues. He draws the old fighter out, reveling in his colorful anecdotes of fights with Marciano and LaMotta (crisply staged in flashbacks by director Rod Lurie).

As they spend time together, the men develop a friendship neither anticipated. Erik, who has fumbled his own attempts at marriage and fatherhood, brings his young son to hear the Champ’s stories, and the kindly fighter shares memories of his struggles.

As with all great romances, we sense from the beginning that it will end poorly, and it does. Erik writes the story of a lifetime, plaudits descend and he’s tapped for a glamorous job as a TV fight commentator. Then a shocking turn of events threatens their improbable bond and Erik’s integrity.

The fact-based “Resurrecting the Champ,” inspired by an article in the Los Angeles Times, is about where and how you place your faith and what getting to know its object entails. Strong on story and emotional development, it features great lead performances enhanced by careful characterization. Jackson’s alcoholic, wheezy-voiced battler is the finest performance he has offered since “Pulp Fiction” – sad, endearing, engaging and funny.

Hartnett does his best work ever. His character, emotionally scarred by a distant father and so eager to succeed that he sabotages himself in unlovable ways, is presented with sensitivity but not a lick of sentimentality. There’s a depth to his work here we haven’t seen before. His scenes with Jackson, one of the most powerful actors in American films, are exchanges between equals.

Each man sees himself as something of a failure, “down and nearly out” as the Champ puts it, in a long shot battle for respect. This isn’t a story of victory against impossible odds or a wise older man passing the torch of enlightenment to a youngster, but of two lonely men who force one another to face up to their questionable choices.

Well-grounded in manly realms – Peter Coyote’s cameo as an old-school gym owner is so sharp you can smell his rancid cigar – the film wobbles a bit in its depiction of women. Teri Hatcher is a stiletto-heeled shrew as a TV executive on the make for Erik professionally and conjugally, and Kathryn Morris registers only faintly as his estranged wife.