‘Christy’ Review: Sydney Sweeney Lands a Knockout in a Gritty, Heartfelt Boxing Drama

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Sep 8

Written By Jonathan P. Moustakas

Sydney Sweeney delivers a fierce, emotionally resonant performance as boxing legend Christy Martin in a powerful drama that hits hard where it counts.

There’s no question Sydney Sweeney trained hard for Christy. From the physicality of her movements in the ring to the weighty emotional moments of trauma and silence, her embodiment of boxing icon Christy Martin is total and transformative. She’s the reason Christy remains compelling even when the film itself plays things too safe. Directed by David Michôd, this TIFF 2025 Special Presentation explores the real-life rise and survival of one of the most visible female athletes in boxing history. While its subject matter is inherently cinematic — power, identity, pain, legacy — the film hesitates to dive deep into the psyche of its titular fighter until it’s nearly too late.

Opening with Christy’s unlikely entry into the sport, the first act establishes her as a basketball player from a conservative West Virginia town. After stepping into the ring at a local fight night event on a dare, her brutal right hook earns her immediate attention. It’s here where the film plays like a traditional sports rise story. Promoter Larry (Bill Kelly) takes her under his wing and gives her the Coal Miner’s Daughter persona, packaging Christy as tough yet feminine, a trailblazing novelty meant to attract fans and headlines. The fight scenes are slick, occasionally brutal, and stylized with ecclesiastical score flourishes — but they lack the lived-in weight and rawness of, say, Creed or Million Dollar Baby. Still, Sweeney’s focus and body language keep us locked in, even when the script plays by the rules.

Where Christy finds its emotional complexity is in the quieter, uglier moments. Ben Foster plays Jim Martin, Christy’s trainer and eventual husband, with cold menace and quiet volatility. At first, his misogyny is played for tension — he dismisses women’s boxing, mocks Christy’s appearance, and subtly pushes her into traditional femininity. He encourages her to grow her hair out, forces her into pink satin robes, and rebrands her sexuality to appeal to the mainstream. When Christy’s past with a high school girlfriend resurfaces, her parents panic. Merritt Wever as Joyce Martin delivers a chilling moment of parental rejection, her soft voice laced with judgment and fear.

The film hints at the central tension of Christy’s life — her public persona as a straight, feminine American hero masking the truth of her private identity — but frustratingly doesn’t dig deeper. There’s little interrogation of what it means to suppress queerness for survival or marketability in a hyper-masculine sport. Instead, Christy treats her sexuality as a subplot, one more hurdle on the way to greatness.

As Jim and Christy’s relationship devolves from manipulative coaching to emotional and physical abuse, Christy begins to feel like a different movie. This darker turn is where Michôd’s direction sharpens. The pace tightens. The framing becomes claustrophobic. The brutality is no longer in the ring but in the kitchen, in the bedroom, behind closed doors. And it’s here that Sweeney shines brightest — her body language shifts, her voice hardens, her eyes flicker with fear, anger, and eventually, resilience.

A scene late in the film between Christy and her mother on a front porch is devastating. Christy, trembling and worn down, confesses that Jim is taking explicit photos of her without consent, that she fears for her safety. Joyce’s response? “Oh Christy, you sound crazy.” It’s a moment that encapsulates so much of what Christy is trying to say about cycles of abuse, the weaponization of love, and the ways women are gaslit by those closest to them. Wever plays the line with frightening subtlety, and Sweeney responds with silence — the kind of silence that speaks volumes.

Still, these moments of truth feel scattered rather than central. The film takes too long to reach its most urgent material, leaving the first hour feeling like a highlight reel. The transformation from athlete to survivor is where the heart of this story lives, and while the last act finally leans in, the pacing and emotional stakes of earlier scenes don’t always build toward it in satisfying ways.

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That said, Sweeney never wavers. Her physical transformation is undeniable, but it’s the emotional weight she carries that defines the performance. In the film’s final scenes, bloodied and bruised, Christy stumbles out of a house where her husband has nearly killed her. Her survival is both a horror and a triumph, and Sweeney plays it with restraint. No melodrama, no grandstanding — just the quiet, terrifying truth of what it takes to survive.

The supporting cast offers standout turns. Katy O’Brian adds nuance as fellow boxer Lisa Holewyne, providing a voice of reason and a mirror to Christy’s contradictions. Chad Coleman is electric in his brief but memorable role as Don King, oozing charisma and bringing sharpness to a film that often feels emotionally muted. Bryan Hibbard’s Big Jeff and Jess Gabor’s Rosie round out the cast with heart and depth, even if they’re underused.

Technically, the film is well-crafted. Antony Partos’ score blends gospel and synths for a sound that feels both grounded and mythic. The cinematography avoids boxing clichés and occasionally leans into impressionistic shots — sweat in slow motion, empty locker rooms, bruised knuckles bathed in red light. But for all its aesthetic control, Christy plays it narratively safe. It wants to be inspirational, but its subject matter demands more confrontation.

Ultimately, Christy is a film that lands some heavy punches but never quite delivers the knockout. Sydney Sweeney, however, does. She gives everything to the role — body, voice, spirit — and emerges with a performance that proves she’s capable of far more than the industry may have given her credit for. She’s not playing dress-up here. She’s fighting.

Rating: ★★★★☆

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“Sydney Sweeney transforms completely for the role of Christy Martin, delivering a raw and physical performance that grounds the film. While ‘Christy’ occasionally leans on biopic tropes, her emotional range and physical dedication elevate the material, landing it firmly in fighting form.”

— Jonathan P. Moustakas

CREDITS

Screened: Saturday, September 7 | TIFF Special Presentation
Cast: Sydney Sweeney, Ben Foster, Merritt Wever, Katy O’Brian, Ethan Embry, Jess Gabor, Chad Coleman, Bryan Hibbard, Tony Cavalero, Gilbert Cruz, Bill Kelly
Distributor: Black Bear Pictures
Creators: David Michôd (Director/Co-Writer), Mirrah Foulkes (Co-Writer)
Release Date: November 7 (US Theatrical)
Rating: R