Down for the count

Boxing movies continue to be as dopey as the sport itself. That’s especially evident with Undisputed, a poor Wesley Snipes vehicle that is almost worth viewing just for the performance of charismatic costar Ving Rhames.

Snipes is Monroe Hutchin, inmate of Sweetwater Federal Prison, convicted for a murder of passion. Monroe was an undefeated boxer before entering the clink, and he remains such, fighting organized prison matches inside a steel cage. He dispenses of skinhead boxer wannabes with big-punch sound effects—the kind of monster-sounding thunder blows that started getting out of hand after Rocky 2. One of Stallone’s legacies.

Things get interesting at Sweetwater when the prison lands a superstar inmate. Undisputed heavyweight champion “Iceman” Chambers has just earned six to eight years for a rape conviction—a Tyson-esque plot twist. Iceman comes to Sweetwater, bitch slaps Monroe in the cafeteria, and the rivalry is on.

The boxing program—a silly, unrealistic enterprise that reminds me of the WWF Steel Cage matches—is run by a milquetoast prison guard (Michael Rooker). Gambling enterprises are headed by mobster inmate Mendy Ripstein (Peter Falk). Falk’s Mendy is Columbo with a potty mouth. He drops more F-Bombs than Eminem if a car driven by techno superstar Moby were to back over Eminem’s foot.

All systems are go for a big showdown in the ring between Monroe and Iceman. After all, the movie would be five minutes long if there weren’t one. Director Walter Hill gives us a few underdeveloped side stories, like a lame showdown between Iceman and some skinheads and Monroe’s scheme to send potential winnings from the big fight to his sister. All of it is clichéd, big-biceped, macho-movie claptrap.

Snipes spends a large chunk of the film in solitary confinement, making ugly houses out of toothpicks. The performance is one of his worst, turning a potentially charismatic character into a droll, glazed over, growling stick in the mud. While your average inmate in solitary confinement wouldn’t be all smiley, hopping around like he just got a gallon of his favorite ice cream, this sort of realism doesn’t belong in such a silly movie. Monroe winds up being somewhat of a party pooper.

In Undisputed, it’s Rhames who steals the show, livening up scenes with his huge presence. Pumped to a scary degree, he is convincing as a heavyweight boxer, and even more convincing as a hardened criminal. Watching Rhames, I was reminded of Mike Tyson’s troubles behind bars, the stories of near riots and challenges by fellow inmates.

The final fight is a letdown, so poorly edited and shot that you can see the punches clearly missing the actors. This makes it impossible to follow the action. The outcome is predictable, following the blueprint of nearly every boxing movie after the first Rocky. (Raging Bull doesn’t count because that was a true story, and it was good.)

The supporting performances are stilted across the board, from Falk’s shameless scenery chewing to Fisher Stevens as Monroe’s corner man and confidant. One gets the feeling that most of Stevens’ performance wound up on the cutting room floor, since we never really see Snipes and Stevens conversing. We see Stevens rubbing down Snipes and giving him pep talks, with Snipes barely acknowledging him. It’s almost as if Stevens is Snipes prison whore.

The film is a joke, and only Rhames seems to be in on it. When he’s not on screen, Undisputed never rises above the level of late August Hollywood throwaway garbage. Bring on the fall movie season!