"Resurrecting the Champ” takes some swipes at a few heavy issues: fathers and sons, honesty, ethics in journalism and the humanity of homeless people. For a movie with so much on its mind, it does a good job.

Given the title, one might think that the life of a boxer is the main focus of this movie. But one would be wrong. At its core, this movie is about one man finding himself and learning to be the man and father he wants to be, and it is the interplay of all those heavy issues that light his way.

Josh Hartnett plays Erik Kernan, the fictionalized version of Los Angeles Times reporter J.R. Moehringer, who wrote the original article, Resurrecting the Champ, in 1997. Hartnett’s Kernan has issues deriving from his non-existent relationship with his famous father that manifest in his relationship with his own son — the disarmingly adorable Dakota Goyo — and in his career ambitions. Kernan seems to have an almost pathological need to embellish the truth when talking to his son and when trying to promote his career as a sports journalist. This leads him to pursue a story about a homeless man he finds at the tail end of a sort of “bum fight” and who claims to be Bob “The Champ” Satterfield, a former boxer of some repute during the 1950s.

After bribes of money and alcohol fail to loosen the lips of the Champ, brought to life by Samuel L. Jackson, Kernan weaves a story about needing a good story to save his job. The Champ complies.

While writing the story, a friendship develops between the two men. Kernan’s relationship with the Champ immediately has a positive affect on his writing skills. And it is his willingness to share this triumph with the Champ that wins Kernan our first bit of admiration.

As their interview process continues, Kernan becomes more and more aware of the Champ’s innate humanity; that is, he begins to see him as a person and not just his “chance at the title shot.” The recognition of the Champ as an equal gives Kernan the sensibility of the injustice he has done his son by telling him only stories rather than sharing experiences with him. So when an embarrassing moment involving NFL quarterback John Elway heightens this guilt, it is to meet the Champ that Kernan takes his son.

The article, when published, becomes an instant sensation. But then comes the shocking news that the Champ isn’t who he claims to be, and Kernan must do some soul searching, not to mention some heavy duty explaining to his bosses and the real Satterfield’s family. This is when, via the issue of journalistic ethics, Kernan finally sees the scope of the damage caused by his habit of telling little white lies. And again, it is the way this impacts his son that compels him to change.

Advertisement

As the Champ, Jackson has completely discarded his “Snakes on a Plane” persona. From his strained voice to his slightly stooped, but always jogging, movements, Jackson makes the Champ sympathetic while still feeling real. Though Jackson’s Champ avoids eye-contact and tends to hold his head down in an obviously learned-through-experience way, he still has spirit left, as when he argues against the validity of a driver’s license as proof of one’s identity.

Though an obvious ploy to cultivate sympathy for the Champ, the scene where drunken men seek him out for a fight also highlights a dark reality of life for the homeless. Yet, in terms of gaining our sympathy, it is not really necessary: Jackson’s portrayal is enough to make the audience forgive him when his deception is discovered.

The weakest link in this movie may be Kernan himself, or perhaps Hartnett’s portrayal of him. Somehow, it is hard to really care about Kernan. If Hartnett was trying to make Kernan unlikable at the beginning so as to better depict his growth by the end, he may have over-done it. Kernan is so shallow, ambitious and self-aggrandizing that it is hard to get invested in him. His relationship with his son is the best thing about him; however, even in that Hartnett displays a certain aloofness, especially at the beginning. I found myself rooting for Kernan primarily for the sake of his son rather than for his own sake.

Director/producer Rod Lurie and writers Michael Bortmann and Allison Burnett make the interplay and outcomes of all the issues feel like a natural consequence of the confluence of personalities and situations depicted. Even the supporting cast feel like necessary links in the causal chains.

As Kernan’s managing editor, Alan Alda, is both funny and antagonizing, and it is the antagonism that first sets Kernan in motion; Kathryn Morris, as Kernan’s wife Joyce, is the voice that speaks truth to him and offers him hope — and this while being much more successful in her career than he is; Peter Coyote, as the man who first tells Kernan of the lie in his story, is almost unrecognizable in an amusing scene where he proves the point he is trying to disprove; and Teri Hatcher, in her element as a cynical Showtime exec who seems to enjoy how jaded she is, acts as a mirror to Kernan, showing him who he might become.

In a story about a man struggling to be a good father while furthering his career by writing about a now homeless former boxing champion, it is no mean feat that this movie neither gets bogged down in mawkish sentimentalism nor offers an overly pat resolution. The struggles and growth of the characters make the outcome feel earned, even real, rather than mere gloss. Still, with the tag line, “based on a story, that was based on a lie,” one can’t help wondering how much of this story was true.

(Three out of four stars.)

Staff writer Amanda Brooks can be reached at 737-1056 or at abrooks@lompocrecord.com.