Just as —has a gift for casting such hurt as a catalyst for apocalyptic fury, and it’s not long before the ex-con is stating his grand professional intentions and, moreover, his opinion that Adonis owes him this “impossible” opportunity.
Majors radiates volatility whether he’s smiling or frowning, and as with his recent Marvel outing, he’s the most charismatic aspect of Creed III, embodying Dame as a Clubber Lang variant fueled by long-held resentment and anger. That the film teases the reveal of his insanely formidable physique until its midway point only amplifies one’s impression of Dame as a rampaging wolf eager to shed his sheep’s clothing.
It’s to Jordan’s credit that he makes the film’s old moves feel fresh—a trick he and screenwriters Keenan Coogler and Zach Baylin accomplish by recognizing that the Rocky template is almost invincibly sturdy. Dame slowly ingratiates himself into Adonis and Bianca’s life, gently (and then not-so-gently) taunting them about their joint decisions to walk away from their beloved careers (Bianca, due to hearing impairment, is now a producer rather than a singer).
When Felix’s big-ticket opponent Viktor Drago (Florian Munteanu) is injured during a suspicious attack at a record label party, Adonis—ashamed about abandoning his friend when they were kids—gives Dame a chance to show the world what he’s made of, which turns out to be a ton of rage and a concurrent willingness to fight dirty to achieve the glory he craves.
If you’ve seen any of these movies, you know precisely what Creed III has in store, including with regards to Adonis’ loving mother Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashad), who in her first scene shrugs off the recent stroke she suffered and, in doing so, telegraphs her Mickey and Apollo-style destiny.
Eli Ade/MGM
Once Dame is in the boxing-world driver’s seat, he’s free to drop the guilt-trip routine toward Adonis and embrace his inner scoundrel, highlighted by his calling into Stephen A. Smith’s First Take to mock Adonis as a crybaby and a coward, thereby motivating the hero to return to the ring for one more go-round.
Set at Dodger Stadium, that clash is as inevitable as its outcome is preordained. Jordan works hard to make it count, his camera getting up-close-and-personal with the athletes as they trade body blows, grimace and scowl at each other, and—during the aforementioned flourish-heavy sequence—battle not only each other but the adolescent demons that helped propel them to this moment in the spotlight.
Adonis’ fears about being soft and spineless are conventional hang-ups that he must invariably overcome. Yet to a greater degree than Stallone did in Rocky III and IV, Jordan humanizes his protagonist instead of letting him morph into an outright superhero. At times, one actually wishes for a bit more outsized color and flair from Adonis (and the film); such hackneyed material, after all, can only be taken so seriously.
Eli Ade/MGM
Still, Adonis’ rapport with Amara and Bianca is easygoing and sweet, and it makes up for the fact that the fighter’s lessons to his daughter about how boxing is about “timing, focus, and control” rather than violence—a message necessitated by the girl’s habit of knocking out school bullies—isn’t really proven by the action at hand. Creed III is about long-hidden blasts from the past, and the need to sometimes solve pesky problems by pummeling them as brutally as possible, and recurring talk to the contrary, the film doesn’t pretend that its central conflict can be solved any other way.
As with so many sports dramas, Creed III’s Achilles heel is dreadful color commentary that sounds scripted and does little more than dispense basic (and unnecessary) exposition; the switch from HBO to Showtime branding for the big bouts also costs the film the participation of boxing’s best voice, Jim Lampley. Nonetheless, Jordan’s noble charisma and Majors’ seething wrath are more than enough to get this latest franchise installment to the end of its final round.
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