TIFF Review: Christy Attempts an Unapologetically Formulaic Oscar Bid for Sydney Sweeney

      “Are we really still doing this?” This was the thought that crossed this writer’s mind while watching Christy, the boxing biopic crafted as a potential Oscar contender for Sydney Sweeney. Both the distributor and the actress seem to have similarly questionable intentions for the film industry with this project. Distributors—whether A24, NEON, or in this instance, Black Bear—are increasingly leaning into sports biopics (such as The Iron Claw and The Smashing Machine) that cater to middle-American sensibilities while providing gritty stories for somewhat controversial stars eager to enhance their credibility as they navigate uncertainty about their brand’s future. Sure, that’s the nature of capitalism, but it feels somewhat unpleasant when leaving a theater after a somber true story, only to be told you're meant to feel uplifted.

      Sweeney plays Christy Martin, often recognized for bringing women's boxing into the spotlight in the ’90s. You instantly get a sense of what to expect once you hear Sweeney adopting a West Virginian accent in the voice-over, and we soon meet the dull, coal-mining household where she grew up. Her family, disapproving of both her love for sports and her sexuality, clearly repress her to the point that boxing—a violent outlet—seems like the most fitting way to release her pent-up frustration.

      Despite the doubts from everyone around her regarding a future in sports, she is introduced to low-level trainer James V. Martin (Ben Foster, sporting a beer belly and combover), who recognizes her potential. To maintain the illusion of being heterosexual and not wanting to lose the one person that believes in her, Christy ultimately marries the obviously detrimental James. Their relationship yields little benefit until he leverages his connection with Don King to arrange a career-defining bout in the mid-90s. The story then jumps to 2003, where a crushing defeat to Muhammad Ali’s daughter signals the end of the marriage, accompanied by drug addiction and the emergence of James’ worst traits.

      The film's shift in the third act from a sports biopic to a domestic abuse drama, while reminiscent of a Lifetime movie, at least injects some intensity into the narrative. Nevertheless, the conclusion wraps up neatly, with Christy confronting James in court—complete with moments for the audience to applaud—that it leaves you feeling uneasy about how someone’s real-life suffering has been reshaped into “inspirational” sentimentality. Even given its predictable structure, the film might have achieved more with a stronger directorial vision, though one doesn’t feel a notable presence behind the camera.

      Since A24 has kept his Pete Davidson-led stoner comedy on hold since 2022, David Michôd is likely trying to maintain a compliant demeanor, clearly catering to a producer/star who is fervently pursuing an Oscar. We’ll see how that unfolds, but one can only hope that voters will see through the superficiality of it all; otherwise, we will be faced with more films like Christy in the future—a disheartening notion.

      Christy debuted at the 2025 Toronto International Film Festival and is set to release on November 7.