‘The Fire Inside’: Toronto Review

Dir: Rachel Morrison. US. 2024. 109mins.

The directorial debut of cinematographer Rachel Morrison, The Fire Inside tells the true story of American boxer Claressa ‘T-Rex’ Shields and her journey to the 2012 Olympics. Early on, Morrison – the first woman to ever be nominated for a Best Cinematography Oscar for her work on Mudbound – visually tells us everything we need to know about where Shields has come from. A bird’s eye view sees a young Claressa (Jazmin Headley) running through empty building lots and broken fences in the snow. What could be any deprived Black neighborhood in America is, in fact, Flint, Michigan, a beaten-down but resilient town where Claressa will rise from a desperate home life to become the first woman to win Olympic gold for middle-weight boxing.  

 As with Moonlight, Jenkins and Morrison are not here to reprint cliches – and the craft of the film follows suit.

There have been few inspirational Black women sports movies. Films like Queen of Katwe and Akeelah And The Bee have emphasised brain over brawn, and very few have shown the physical strength of Black womanhood. With a thoughtful script written by Moonlight filmmaker Barry Jenkins, Morrison’s profound debut has filled that void. Premiering as a Toronto Gala Presentation, this is a highly rewatchable and wholly fulfilling drama which should appeal to a family audience when it is released in the US on December 25.

Anyone who has grown up in a disadvantaged situation will recognise images from Claressa’s early life – the dilapidated houses, bare cupboards, empty fridges and a single bed shared by three siblings. She is obviously a fighter, begging trainer Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry), who says he doesn’t work with girls, to take her on. Pretty soon we move from 2006 to 2011, and Claressa (now played by Ryan Destiny) is, despite a hectic family life that involves a despondent mother (Olunike Adeliyi), a top boxer with Olympic dreams. 

This film, however, is not about winning gold. It asks other questions. What happens when a dream isn’t deferred but attained? What pressure is felt when the weight of a family, a community and even a race falls upon one person’s shoulders? Despite only being 16 years-old, Claressa is expected to uplift her entire family out of poverty. It’s an incredible pressure that puts her at odds with her father (Adam Clark), her coach and others. Claressa fears abandoning those obligations. The Fire Inside, nevertheless, posits that one need not sacrifice community to pursue singular desires — enriching scenes of her neighbors coming to her aid and rooting her on are deeply touching — and says that success is not a magic wand that can wish away the realities of systemic racism. 

This film also doesn’t sell an easy villain. Claressa’s absentee father, fresh out of prison, doesn’t have to explain his crime; her troubled mother is given a chance to grow and redeem herself; Jonathan and his wife become Claressa’s second family but they do not replace her primary parents. These aren’t opportunities to perpetuate flattened perceptions of urban Blackness. These are people working to survive in a systematically disadvantaged city. The film instead takes aim at the pay disparity between male and female Olympic athletes and the misogynoir of brands not wanting a tough-as-nails Black woman as the face of their marketing campaign. As with Moonlight, Jenkins and Morrison are not here to reprint cliches – and the craft of the film follows suit.

Morrison and her DoP Rina Yang opt for compositions bathed in warm and vibrant hues of pinks, purples and blues. Along with editor Harry Yoon, they also trust these exceptional actors to deliver heartfelt grace notes. Henry, who never seems to misstep in any role, is exceptional here, adding layers of hurt, regret, and fatherly love to what is usually a rote character. Destiny matches Henry step for step. For scenes outside the ring, Destiny works with Jenkins’ tender script to carve moments of joy, maturity, desire, awareness and trauma within Claressa. Inside the ring, Destiny is a picture of focused fury. These are intense bouts, compactly framed physical realisations of Claressa’s love for the sport and her absolute need to win. 

Most of all, this film sees Claressa as more than an athlete or a champion. It dispenses any gaze that would see her solely through her hardships, too. She falls in love and goes to prom, and finds her own sense of independence. “I don’t deserve it. I earned it,” demands Claressa. The Fire Inside, in a deceptively brilliant twist on the inspirational sports film, is a humanist story, whose every hard hitting beat and aching emotion is also truly earned.