It is not impossible for a white, male director to tell great stories about identities they do not share. This year, PTA directed One Battle After Another (2025); two years ago, Scorsese delivered a masterpiece in Killers of the Flower Moon (2023); and David Lynch (Mulholland Drive; Inland Empire) made a career out of women in danger. But humility, empathy, and courage have to point the camera at the subject, and this film left all of that behind in pre-production.
Sydney Sweeney as Christy Martin in David Michôd’s CHRISTY. Photo courtesy of Black Bear.
David Michôd has no cohesive aesthetic philosophy beyond a high degree of polish, but he does maintain a thematic focus on power. A journeyman auteur, he will be known by younger audiences for the Netflix blockbuster The King (2019), some real nerds might remember him for War Machine (2017), and cinephiles might know him as the director of Animal Kingdom (2010), a reputable thriller about an orphan being manipulated by his grandmother and her criminal children. He is a good director with experience in the troubled waters of the real-life Christy Martin who was groomed and controlled by her much older trainer turned husband. But around the 20-minute mark of Christy, it becomes clear that he and the other collaborators who control the final tone of a film such as the editor, music supervisor, and composer, just lost their grip on it.
“You know how easy you make it for people to dislike you?”
Sydney Sweeney (Madame Web; Anyone but You) is almost pretty good as Christy Martin, a queer woman in her early 20s whose conservative family is threatening to cut her off financially. Her girlfriend, Rosie, played by Jess Gabor (Shameless; School Spirits), is being sent to “counseling”. So, when boxing trainer Jim Martin, played by Ben Foster (X-Men: The Last Stand; Hustle), offers to make her a star, she jumps at the chance. She becomes the first household name in women’s boxing and the victim of the abusive Jim who pimps her out, blackmails her, beats her, and worse. Christy Martin’s rise, fall, and comeback is a compelling story, and a queer one. Katy O’Brien (Twisters; Love Lies Bleeding) even plays her future wife, though you wouldn’t know that from the trailer.
L-R: Ben Foster as James Martin and Sydney Sweeney as Christy Martin in David Michôd’s CHRISTY. Photo courtesy of Black Bear.
When O’Brien shows up as Lisa Holewyne to help with Christy Martin’s training, she says, “I just need the money,” and one wonders if she knew the camera was rolling. The screenplay of Christy does not shy away from Martin’s identity, but the distributor certainly has. It’s yet to be seen if Sweeney, who also produced Christy through Fifty-Fifty Films, was a collaborator or a tool in the GOP’s recent bolstering of her American Eagle ad into a culture fight and this boxing movie was designed to get the public to take Sweeney seriously as an actor. What is certainly true is that Christy is sold to her shifting audience as an inspiring sports film about a trailblazing woman who escaped an abusive husband. It is not sold as a thriller about a groomer blackmailing a queer woman. The great fault of the filmmaking is that it tries to eat both slices of cake, hopping between the tone of inspiration and danger without proper juxtaposition. Sweeney put in the work to transform for the film, kept the queer story in, but seems to pull back on or have no take on queer identity or attraction. She has more chemistry with her female friends in Madame Web than she gives to the women she loves in Christy.
“You think you’d be a little more grateful.”
Ben Foster rightfully identifies in his performance the pathetic side of men who see relationships as exercises in power, control, and violence. What he and the film both fail to find is the feeling of an edge. Every time the camera slowly dollies on what is supposed to be a frightening face, it feels offensive. Gauche, even. Maybe this is because the film hides the reality of the abuse from the camera until the traumatic final set piece of visceral violence. Or maybe it’s because Foster is not the kind of weighty character actor who should be carrying this performance. Or maybe it’s because the film keeps interrupting the danger with upbeat sports montages. Boxing is portrayed almost exclusively through montage instead of building to a singular fight, so no narrative villain threatens Christy in the ring, either, even when the film suddenly remembers that Martin has to fight Laila Ali. No, the only real successful menace in the film comes from Merritt Wever (Marriage Story; Birdman) who needs barely three scenes to portray one of the most evil mothers in movie history.
In theaters November 7th, 2025.
For more information, head to the official Christy website.
Final Score: 1.5 out of 5.
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Categories: In Theaters, Reviews
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