In The Fire Inside, Ryan Destiny & Brian Tyree Henry Give Knockout Performances

An athlete has one job: win. The early mornings in the gym, the grind, the hustle, the sweat, the tears, it all leads to victory. Well, that’s the goal. And after they finish the job, then comes the glory: a coveted Wheaties box cover, the endorsements, the acclaim, the fans, the money. That’s the formula. But for Claressa Shields, winning wasn’t enough. So many Black women can relate to doing the job or following a formula set by those who don’t look like us and excelling at that path — because we have to — only to be told the bar has moved just as we’ve reached it. Shields’ story is singular and spectacular, it’s also familiar and infuriating. In The Fire Inside, the contrast of those elements of the champion boxer’s life are on full display and the result is an intimate portrayal of the rush of triumph in the ring and the devastation of disappointment outside of it. 

The film, directed by Rachel Morrison (in her directorial debut, she’s known as the trailblazing cinematographer of films like Mudbound, Dope, Fruitvale Station, and Black Panther), tells the story of Shields, a Black girl from Flint, Michigan, who chooses to box when that just wasn’t a thing girls did. Her coach, Jason Crutchfield (played by the consistently captivating Brian Tyree Henry), takes a chance on her, and together, they set out to become champions. As Claressa grows into a formidable boxer, played by the sensational Ryan Destiny, we also watch the bond between coach and fighter develop into something special. If you know Destiny from Star or Grownish, you already know she is, well, a star, but this role finally gives the actress a powerhouse vehicle to show off her talent on the big screen. 

As Claressa, she balances being stubborn, guarded, and ambitious, with a short fuse and a fragile teen ego, while also being maternal, generous, and fiercely protective of her family. Claressa’s mom Jackie (Olunike Adeliyi) isn’t reliable; more preoccupied with personal pursuits than caring for her kids, so Claressa has to step up to parent her younger siblings and cousins while she’s still a kid. Adeliyi shines in a role that could easily veer into damaging trope territory, but she elevates the character from a one-note absentee addict to a flawed young mother making mistakes despite having the best intentions. Her shortcomings as a mother push Claressa to move out of her house and into Jason’s. As Jason steps into a parental role as well as a coach, the dynamic between the duo shifts, and it’s beautiful to watch the relationship mature as Claressa (or “Ressa” as Jason affectionately calls her) does too. Henry has an uncanny ability to be stern and soft at the same time, as Jason wears his love and admiration for his young boxer on his sleeve while also pushing her to be the best, and reigning in her more prickly teenage tendencies. 

As Claressa’s boxing career takes off, from Nationals to the Olympic trials all the way to the 2012 Olympics in London, Jason can’t make it to a pivotal match (because of financial stress Claressa doesn’t know about, he’s a volunteer coach after all) and her dependence on him shows up as anger and betrayal. She lashes out, and it’s love on display for them both, even when they are yelling. In the scenes where Claressa and Jason go head to head, on the surface, it’s a coach and fighter sparring over her future and a kid and her mentor battling over her attitude, but it’s really just two people who love each other trying to tell each other that in their own ways. We often talk about chemistry between actors playing romantic leads, but the familial chemistry needed between two people on a journey like this is imperative. And Henry and Destiny have it in spades. Watching them play off of each other — in small comedic moments and in the big blow ups — is mesmerizing. They are two underdogs bonded by a belief in Claressa’s talent, but also that their circumstances don’t preclude them from greatness, despite what the world may think or what systems may be against them. Henry and Destiny give a masterclass in character-driven dramatic performances (they also bonded so much on set, that they walked on stage at the TIFF premiere holding hands). They’re both so good, awards should be thrown at them all season, but in these moments is also where Barry Jenkins’ script is at its strongest. 

Jenkins based the script off of the documentary T-Rex: Her Fight For Gold and while the boxing sequences are strong (thanks to Morrison, who proves she is an exciting new directorial voice with thrilling potential), the gritty, emotional, dramatic moments are what make this movie magical. Jenkins’ has been dubbed the “yearner’s director” (thanks to a tweet by writer Ayan Artan) and when I asked him about that assessment of his work at the Toronto International Film Festival premiere of The Fire Inside, he agreed and crystallized why his past projects, and this one, are all about yearning. “I think we’re all searching for something. We all want something. Sometimes we don’t know what that something is, but you wake up in the morning and you feel it. You go to bed at night and you feel it. Sometimes you look into a partner’s eyes and you feel it or you see the way someone looks at you and you feel it,” Jenkins said on the red carpet. “Having something [like yearning] as the center of my work means I can move from something like Medicine for Melancholy, to Moonlight, to The Underground Railroad to Mufasa, and all of those things have something at the core of them where there are characters yearning — usually for more — but really they just want to be loved.” 

In The Fire Inside, Claressa Shields is yearning. To be loved, to be respected, and ultimately, for the ease that comes with financial security. And for athletes, the deal is supposed to be that if you win — especially if you win an Olympic gold medal — you are given respect, acclaim, and you get paid. But that’s not how Claressa’s story went. For director Morrison, after the gold medal win is what she really wanted to explore. “We are all used to the traditional sports movie format, where the protagonist emerges with the potential to be great, has a setback, doubles down, and then wins against all odds. But, what happens when winning alone isn’t enough?” She said in the film’s production notes. 

The Fire Inside sets itself apart from other sports films because of its emphasis on what happens when you reach the mountaintop and it’s not at all as you imagined. And it’s fitting that this narrative is at the center of a film about a Black girl chasing the American Dream. When Claressa is asked by the National Boxing Association to move to a facility to train for another gold, while earning three times less than her male counterparts, she declines. She has a family to care for, but also, she knows her worth. It’s inspiring and frustrating to watch Claressa navigate poverty while her gold medal collects dust. The film gets into the inequality that female athletes face without being too preachy. Through subtle moments, we’re reminded that women are meant to be perceived as “feminine” (especially if you hit people in the face for a living) in order to be palatable and that Black women face impenetrable barriers to success, despite being the best. As you watch Claressa’s struggle in the third act, you see Serena Williams, Gabby Douglas, Simone Biles, Angel Reese, and so many other Black women athletes who have been unfairly judged, belittled, and bullied, in her story. And when she triumphs, it’s beautiful and emotional, but also a reminder of how much bullshit Black women athletes have to go through. The Fire Inside is a love letter to Black women, how our resilience isn’t inherent or something to simply be expected, it’s borne out of necessity and unjust treatment. 

Claressa Shields is the first U.S. boxer — of any gender — to win consecutive Olympic gold medals and is now earning millions of dollars to fight. She punched, clawed, and fought her way to fair treatment (and is still fighting for equal pay) against all odds. A happy ending may be the formula for a sports movie, but it’s not always in the cards for Black women. Not enough people outside of her boxing world know Shields’ story, and my hope is that this film — this intimate, stirring, gorgeous drama — allows more people to know her greatness, but that it also acts as a vehicle for its cast who also deserve more. Ryan Destiny deserves a career that is worthy of her talent, one that dark-skinned Black women often aren’t afforded. Brian Tyree Henry deserves every opportunity he wants — with this role, he’s further cemented his range and that he can excel at whatever he is given — and should be more in demand than whatever mediocre white boy the internet has deemed its boyfriend of the month. But as Claressa says in the movie, “I don’t deserve it, I EARNED it.” Thanks to what Claressa Shields earned, The Fire Inside is a knockout. 

The Toronto International Film Festival runs until September, 17th. The Fire Inside opens in theaters on December 25, 2024.