The movie features a impressive ensemble, depicting the true story of coach Brendan Ingle, who guided a cheeky Sheffield teenager from Yemeni immigrant parents. Dubbed “Prince” Naseem Hamed, the fighter was coached to confront prejudice and transformed into a media-friendly world champion in the 1990s. The trainer nurtured his flamboyant confidence and powerful punches, but after achieving wealth, Hamed betrayed his mentor, excluding him and making him a mix of Falstaff and Danny Rose.
Brosnan plays Ingle; El-Masry takes on the part of the prince, and Toby Stephens appears as the bullish promoter Frank Warren, who recognized the potential that Ingle had discovered.
Yet, the film frankly lacks the fighter’s agility: the boxing sequences flow well, but the all-important story in between is repeatedly dull and monotonous. It lacks subtlety or light and shade in the depiction of Hamed himself, and the actor, an otherwise outstanding performer, doesn’t get the chance to display any depth or much of what might make his character truly engaging – even though he’s obviously been training and appears convincing in the ring.
The drama is often lumbered with utilitarian, explanatory dialogue that inform you precisely what is going on and what we are meant to feel (“Your journey began your boxing journey at seven years old …”). It is the sort of dialogue that streaming-TV executives call “double-screen”, ensuring you understand what’s unfolding while you’re watching the movie but also checking your phone. Additionally, the background music is overbearing, at times almost deafening, especially in the scene where the boxer gets too excited visiting Warren in his luxurious home.
While El-Masry and Brosnan do their very utmost, their relationship never really ignites, and the major fight scenes are often anticlimactically cut short. A key scene is surely when, goaded beyond endurance in the training facility one day by Hamed as a misguided “elder”, Ingle actually offers to get in the ring and box him. All present in the gym is stunned and uncomfortable. How exactly is this insanely risky standoff going to play out? How precisely the ending? Surely the champion is going to kill him? Alternatively will he emotionally hold back? The resolution remains ambiguous.
That’s not to say that there are no some good moments. The actor gets laughs when Ingle tells a reporter what he’s teaching the youths from his local community: to oppose bias and when you meet a offender, “Punch him in the groin”. Amusing too when Hamed squirms at the ridiculous stunts Ingle makes him do in the early days: posing as the “monster from the East”.
As for the rift, the movie depicts this as being exacerbated by a revealing publication that Ingle is allegedly written (a story element evidently adapted from prior material), and there is an intriguingly conceived final conversation – although the emotional tribute that the boxer is reportedly paid to his mentor after his death is merely referenced in the end titles, and not shown on screen. There is engaging content in this film, but the punches don’t land.
Giant screened at the London film festival and is available in British and Irish theaters from 9 January.
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