Review of Creed (2015) by Trevor K — 23 Apr 2018

Each pounding the son of Apollo Creed takes and each dish of punishment he doles out immediately justify not merely his own presence, but that of his mentor--an aged and wise Rocky Balboa. The slings and arrows of their personal battles are purged within the ring, and as we see the young warrior and old warrior claim their own tribe, there is an underlying clarion call: we still exist. We are still here. And we will not break.

That demands our attention; Rocky Balboa has lost as much as he has won, and in his own right so has Adonis Creed--and though they may be disparate in age, they are, in many ways, sons of the same father. Apollo created both of them.

That makes them brothers as well as both father and son. Rocky brings lessons from the past; Adonis makes manifest their wisdom, and eventually causes Rocky to do so as well, when the old warrior, grizzled and tired, is challenged to his own daunting fight by haggish age.

Stallone delivers a measured, wise, heartrending performance, his voice rough and old, but still offering a recognizable path, like gravel well worn. Michael Jordan is equally athletic as he is affecting; when he declares his love of his late father, he becomes a herald to many black men that have lost too many fathers, but also seizes the thing so difficult to grasp when a boy becomes a man without guidance: self-respect for his masculinity, expressed not merely by stamina and strength and force of will, but as much, or more, by love.

Adonis treats his love with real respect, and she does as like for him. They make each other stronger. Tessa Thompson and Mary Creed form part of the tribe that Rocky and Adonis have claimed, and no mere adjuncts are they. They do not spectate--they participate, as much as Adrian did for Rocky.

But in the end, this is primarily a film for men to realize what it is to claim what being a man ought to mean, and it rings true.

I thought the final shot was of two men, one young and and one old, looking out over Philadelphia as twilight falls. But as I write this, I realize that it is, in fact, more likely to be the dawn, carrying with it all the pain and promise that a new day can bring.