BEVERLY HILLS -- Resurrecting the Champ enters the end of the bruising summer movie season as an underdog.
No special effects, no superheroes or boy wizards, and a plot set in the world of boxing. Even director Rod Lurie admits his sombre, emotional drama is faced with a marketing minefield.
"It's not a boxing movie," he says, with good reason. "Women don't go to boxing movies. In the end, Field of Dreams was about fathers and sons, and Rocky was a romance.
"(Resurrecting the Champ) is either a religious movie because of 'Resurrecting' or it's a boxing movie because of 'Champ.' "
Joking aside, Lurie's concerns are more than merely the pre-release jitters of a director-for-hire. He has shepherded Champ through years of development, as far back as when Morgan Freeman was attached to star.
The movie is based on a 1997 Los Angeles Times article entitled Resurrecting the Champ, which retraced the life of a former legendary boxer who went from being a Chicago City Golden Gloves champion to a homeless man on the streets of California.
For Lurie, a former journalist and film critic, the drama represented the two-fold opportunity to mill about in familiar territory. In addition to his journalism background (he boxed at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point), the project also allowed him to explore the relationships of fathers and sons. But, as with most films rooted in reality, Champ is foremost a drama, not a documentary.
"Almost every film takes very dramatic liberties, even stories that are historically sensitive like The Insider," Lurie says.
Some such dramatic liberties are merely practical -- as when he transplanted the action from Los Angeles to Denver, a decision he made after choosing to shoot Champ in Calgary, which could pass convincingly for Colorado but not California. (Lurie was inspired to trek to Alberta after a conversation he had with Brokeback Mountain director Ang Lee, in which Lee praised the city's film community.)
Although moviegoers aren't left to wonder what Champ's fate is in the film, in reality no one knows what actually happened to the former fighter who inspired the story.
"We don't know where he is," Lurie says, explaining that in 1997 the producers found the real-life Champ still living on the streets.
"It'd be nice to know if he's alive ... (But) if the United States can't find Osama bin Laden, it's hard for me and my buddies to find this needle in a haystack."
The filmmakers were luckier in tracking down footage of the actual bouts the real Champ fought in. "(Champ producer Mike Medavoy) and Sylvester Stallone are good friends. (Stallone's) got access to an extraordinary amount of footage. Mike, when you go to his house, Stallone is always there. He said, 'Why don't you ask Sly?' And Stallone made it happen for us. That's why he gets a thank you at the end of the film. That guy knows boxing very, very well. He's not just an actor in that respect."
Meanwhile, with the film's release approaching, Lurie is hoping positive word of mouth -- women may not dig boxing films, but they were weeping during test screenings of Champ -- can keep his film from being KOed on opening weekend.
If not, Lurie can take some comfort in how unforgiving the cinematic landscape is for adult dramatic fare. Just this year, Medavoy released the acclaimed but criminally-ignored serial killer thriller Zodiac.
"Zodiac's a fine film, but it tanked. The same week it came out, Wild Hogs had a huge opening and (the producers) were bummed out," Lurie says, "and I said to Mike, 'A year from now, which poster do you want on the wall?' "
Hint: it wasn't the one with Tim Allen.
