“Christy” “A Knockout Portrait of Power, Pain, and Survival!”
TIFF 2025 Review: “Christy” “A Knockout Portrait of Power, Pain, and
Survival!”
“In the ring, she fought for glory. At home, she fought for her life.”
The haunting tagline captures the brutal honesty of Christy, director David Michôd’s
latest and most emotionally charged film to date. The premiering at TIFF 50, Christy
isn’t a typical sports biopic; it’s a searing, deeply human story about a woman who
fought her way to the top of a male-dominated sport while enduring the quiet, unseen
war behind closed doors.
Christy is anchored by a transformative performance from Sydney Sweeney and an
unflinching script co-written by Michôd and Mirrah Foulkes, based on a story by
Katherine Fugate. Christy takes the story of boxing legend Christy Martin and strips
it bare, without the Hollywood gloss, no victory lap, just the raw truth.
A Story That Hits Hard
From the first frame, Michôd sets a tone of quiet menace. We meet Christy, a girl at her
first fight alone and unsure of where she fits in anywhere. A
schoolgirl training alone, winning her first-ever fight. Her early days in small-town West
Virginia, with her coal-mining father and brother, and a mother who can’t accept her
daughter’s life choice. She is offered a way out, and that would lead her into the arms
of Jim Martin, her reluctant trainer, manager, husband, and eventual abuser.
Ben Foster, in one of his most terrifyingly restrained performances, plays Jim not as a
caricature of evil, but as a chillingly believable manipulator, charming in public and
monstrous in private. His control over Christy’s life, body, and image becomes the
invisible cage she can’t escape, even as her fame grows.
Michôd doesn’t sensationalize the abuse. He observes it with restraint. Muted lighting,
long silences, and lingering shots of Christy’s face as she processes pain she can’t
press. The result is devastating. Every bruise tells a story, and every victory in the ring
feels tainted by the war she fights at home.
Sydney Sweeney’s Career-Defining Performance
The question is, this is Sydney Sweeney’s line. Known for emotionally charged roles
in Euphoria and Reality, Sweeney has never been this commanding, this stripped down,
or this raw. She disappears into Christy Martin, physically, mentally, spiritually. She
gained weight, trained intensely for months, and learned to fight with both hands like a
real boxer. But it’s not just her physical transformation that’s remarkable; it’s the
emotional ones as well.
Sweeney captures Christy’s contradictions perfectly: the proud fighter who can face any
opponent, and the woman trapped by love, fear, and loyalty. Her eyes do most of the
talking in this film, haunted, defiant, and searching for a way out. In the quietest
moments, when she sits alone after a fight or flinches at Jim’s voice, you feel her
exhaustion deep in your bones.
It’s the kind of performance that doesn’t win awards; it earns respect. TIFF audiences
gave Sweeney a standing ovation, and for good reason. It’s simply the finest work of
her career, a performance that demands and deserves attention.
A Director in Complete Control
David Michôd, best known for Animal Kingdom and The King, proves once again that
he’s a master of tone and tension. In Christy, he swaps his usual epic scope for
something smaller, tighter, and infinitely more personal.
His direction is stripped of glamour. The boxing matches aren’t like cinematic set
pieces; they’re intimate and tactile. You feel the sweat, the breath, the snap of every
jab. The sound design deserves special mention; realistically, every punch lands not just
on the opponent, but on the audience.
Visually, Christy is drenched in muted tones—faded reds, dim gyms, cheap motels, and
smoky arenas. Cinematographer Greig Fraser (fresh off Dune: Part Two) keeps the
camera close to Christy’s face, refusing to let us look away. The claustrophobic framing
mirrors her inner entrapment, making even victory feel suffocating.
But it’s Michôd’s restraint that makes the film powerful. He never overplays Christy’s
emotion or milks the tragedy of Christy’s problems or tears. Michôd trusts his directing,
the story, and Sweeney’s acting to carry the film’s strength. The pacing is deliberate,
allowing audiences time and space for reflection, anger, and healing. When Christy
finally fights back, it’s a powerful scene and the reclamation of her identity and herself.
Ben Foster’s Stillness
Ben Foster continues to prove why he’s one of the most fearless actors. His portrayal of
Jim Martin is horrifying precisely because it feels so real. He didn’t play Jim as a loud,
angry abuser; instead, he was a quiet, insidious one who manipulates with words,
control, and psychological cruelty.
In a lesser film, Jim would be a villain painted in broad strokes. Here, Foster plays him
with nuance, his love curdled by ego, his need for dominance rooted in insecurity. It’s
hard to watch, but impossible to look away. His chemistry with Sweeney is magnetic in
the worst way; every scene between them feels like a ticking bomb.
Not Just a Boxing Film
While Christy has her share of thrilling sports moments, it’s really about boxing; it’s
about survival. Michôd and Fugate use the sport as a metaphor for endurance, for
taking hits and getting back up. The gloves, the ring, the roar of the crowd —all of it
becomes a backdrop to Christy’s war for autonomy.
By the final act, Christy’s sight isn’t about titles or trophies; it’s about freedom. And
when she finally throws her last punch, it feels less like victory and more like liberation.
TIFF 50’s Emotional Powerhouse
At TIFF 50, Christy was one of the festival’s emotional screenings. I was silent as the
credits rolled, then the theatre erupted in applause. As I left the theatre, I listened to
other attendees call the film “heartbreaking,” “endlessly moving,” a “d “on” of the most
powerful biopics in years.”
Sweeney’s performance, and deservedly so. Beyond awards, Christy connected with
people on a human level. Many were visibly shaken, especially women who saw their
own experiences reflected in Christy’s story.
As one critic noted, “It’s a comeback story. It’s a survival story.” A” d that’s precisely
what makes Christy special. It’s about winning the fight; it’s about surviving it long
enough to tell the tale.
The Verdict
Christy isn’t a comfortable film. It isn’t meant to be. It’s heartbreaking and honest to its
core, a story of strength, endurance, and the quiet power of reclaiming oneself.
With breathtaking performances, masterful direction, and a screenplay that never
flinches from the truth, Christy cements Sydney Sweeney as among the best of her
generation. Michôd delivers his most intimate and affecting work yet, a film that hits
hard, lingers longer, and reminds us that sometimes, the bravest thing a person can do
is survive.
Verdict: ★★★★★ Brutal, beautiful, and unforgettable. A knockout in every sense.
“She was the champ the world saw, and the survivor no one did.”
