There's a scene near the end of Resurrecting the Champ in which a sorrowful, despondent young man is imbibing in a dive bar. The door opens, and the young man's boss walks in and notes the predictability (and banality) of drowning one's sorrows in liquor, particularly after a little humiliation has occurred. The interaction was a little ironic, because up until just a scene or two earlier the movie seemed to be fairly predictable and straightforward. Luckily, the story zig-zagged thereafter.To be honest, I wasn't really sure I wanted to watch Resurrecting the Champ, a drama about a young reporter who discovers that a former boxing great is living on the streets of Denver. It sounded a little too melodramatic for my tastes, following the formula of the idealistic lad saving the bitter ex-jock.But that's not quite how it goes. Erik Kernan, Jr. (Josh Hartnett) is a reporter for a Denver newspaper. He covers boxing, but his stories are buried deep in the sports section by his boss, Ralph Metz (Alan Alda), who pegs Erik's writing as ordinary but sufficient. Meanwhile, Erik is dealing with his separation from his wife Joyce (Kathryn Morris), who has custody of their young son Teddy, and he feels as if he's stuck in stasis with his current job.All of that changes when, while walking home late one night, he comes across a trio of drunken college-age kids beating up a homeless man. The homeless man, known as Champ (Samuel L. Jackson) mentions that he's Bob Satterfield, a pugilist long thought to have shuffled off this mortal coil. He regales Erik with tales within the squared circle, including fights against Rocky Marciano and Floyd Patterson. Naturally, Erik sees this as an opportunity to do some substantive writing for a change, and with Champ's permission he writes a story for a local magazine profiling Champ and his post-boxing life.Everything goes along swimmingly, as you might expect, until it does not, which you also might expect. What you might not expect is how and when the tone shifts – and how the principal characters each deal with the change. The film seems to be asking us who the victim and the antagonist are in this play.The good news is that Jackson is on fire. He rises above caricature in his portrayal of Champ – he doesn't go for cheap laughs or oversell Champ's homelessness or personality twitches. His Champ seems to have been come by honestly; in retrospect, the performance feels authentic and divinely from the heart. Jackson doesn't satirize a homeless wreck of a man, he inhabits him.The more-disappointing news is that Hartnett is a little underwhelming. He's been excellent (Lucky Number Slevin) before, but here he just didn't rise to the challenge. Hartnett tries his best to convey the deep emotion that Erik feels, but he spends way too much time using "run fingers through own hair" as a way to show consternation or frustration. Or elation, for that matter.#3,980 is a fine, understated film that doesn't really take off until the final reel, and even then the denouement falls a little flat.

The surprising thing about this boxing story is that it's not really a boxing story per se. To use another sports film analogy, it's similar to the way "Field of Dreams" is not so much about baseball when you come right down to it, but the way a man relates to the legacy of a father who's no longer around but still manages to cast a shadow over his own life. The twist in the story occurs when Samuel L. Jackson's character turns out to be someone completely different from the celebrated sports figure he's presumed to be when first discovered by newspaper writer Erik Kernan Jr. (Josh Hartnett). The unveiling of Battlin' Bob Satterfield (Jackson) as a fraud becomes the undoing of Kernan's career as well, forcing him to embark on his own journey of introspection and self discovery. Putting politics aside, Jackson gives an exceptional performance here, much unlike just about any other character I've seen him portray. Though Hartnett was OK for his role, I could visualize a number of other actors who would have handled the job capably. Alan Alda injects a much needed conservative challenge to Hartnett's character to start taking his career seriously and produce something of value, and even though she portrayed a sleaze of a film producer, Teri Hatcher provided just the right touch in the film to jolt Kernan's career back on track to some semblance of respectability. The young kid playing Kernan's son (Dakota Goyo) hit the right notes when he needed to, and was most effective when keeping it real for his Dad.

But just not that good a movie overall. Not a bad movie either by a long shot, but if you consider the acting on show here, you would expect a somewhat better movie. Samuell L. Jackson especially is very good. Josh Hartnett does his best and the supporting cast is phenomenal (Alan Alda always delivers just to name one of the supporting actors). But unfortunately it takes quite a few missteps by walking a thin line. While the performances overall are subtle and genuine, sometimes they go completely OTT (Teri Hatcher especially has to deliver one dialog, where you feel sorry for her, while all the subtleness goes out the window).Depending on how much you weight you put on acting, story and other things, you will like it more or less than I did. The point is, that this is a really good companion piece to "The Solist". So watch the Robert Downey Jr. picture too while you're at it.

I'm sure Josh Hartnett is a real nice kid, and my teenage daughters like him--but he ain't no actor. His attempt at acting is like his character's attempt at reporting: going through the motions with no spunk or soul. Don't blame him, though, blame the director who chose him. Samuel L. Jackson is awesome and convincing, as is Alan Alda as the tough old school editor, Peter Coyote as the wizened old boxing insider, Terri Hatcher revved up like on amphetamines, but Hartnett brings the movie down. The attempt at sentimentality with his separated wife and young son are weak and don't fly. Funny--the girl who plays his wife is good in Cold Case but not as strong here. I honestly think anyone save for Matt Dillon would have been a better casting choice as the lead.