On the night of November 23, 2010, Christy Martin was brutally attacked by her husband. After stabbing her several times, he shot her in the chest, left her for dead on the floor of their bedroom, and went to take a shower. Miraculously, Christy managed to stand up and walk to the street, where she found a driver who took her to a hospital. This episode in the turbulent life of the former welterweight champion feels like something out of a horror movie. In Christy (2025), directed by David Michôd, we revisit the life inside and outside the ring of one of the most dominant female boxers of all time.

Her modest life in West Virginia, her grueling rise, the glory in the ring, and her dramatic fall all intertwine in the script of Christy to deliver a biopic framed by lines of fiction. Michôd takes the safe route and presents a story that sticks closely to the facts, delivered in an almost didactic narrative. The feminist cry is the banner the film carries, dictating the tone of the actions and the development of the characters. The woman who was psychologically and physically abused becomes a heroine when faced with the antagonist, her abusive husband.

In Christy, all the weight of the story falls on Sydney Sweeney, who must strip away her charms to embody a character that demands more of her acting skills than her physical appeal. This is the most atypical role in Sweeney’s young career, perhaps comparable to what she did in the TV series Euphoria if we consider the emotional depth both roles require. Her performance is one of the film’s brightest points; we can forget the voluptuous blonde and believe in the miner’s daughter who, with her fists, became a boxing legend. Everything gravitates around her, and outside of her, the film becomes a series of highs and lows.

By necessity, Christy navigates two waters: it is both a family drama and a sports film. Think of films like Rocky (1976), Raging Bull (1980), or Million Dollar Baby (2004), all perfect examples of an effective combination of cinematic genres. In all of them, we find the intensity of the fights and the athlete’s life, but also the harrowing drama lived outside the ring. In David Michôd’s version, cinematic execution takes a back seat to the discourse of emancipation.

Christy succeeds in portraying the life of a boxing pioneer and representing her as a symbol of resistance against gender-based violence. Along the way, it sacrifices much narrative potential and relies almost exclusively on Sydney Sweeney’s performance. One expected a bolder and more unforgettable film, especially considering Netflix’s Untold: Deal with the Devil (2021), which managed to depict Christy Martin’s life with rawness and without concessions. Compared to that material, Michôd’s take is less forceful, choosing to underline the message rather than delve into the complexities of its protagonist.