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Ron Shelton, former minor league infielder whose writer/director's portfolio includes Bull Durham, White Men Can't Jump, and Tin Cup, adds to his list of insightful sports comedies this tale about two buddies given a second shot at boxing greatness if they'll fight each other.
Cesar Dominguez (Antonio Banderas) and Vince Boudreau (Woody Harrelson) have a long history of pugilistic camaraderie, from the days both were ranked contenders, through big chances they blew or breaks that went the wrong way, into now too-young obscurity. They've also shared girlfriend Grace (the woefully overlooked Lolita Davidovich, who starred in one of Shelton's few non-sport films, Blaze), a sympathetic, enterprising motorhead about to be on the outs with Cesar. She agrees to drive them from L.A. to Vegas when they get a last-minute call from desperate promoters one morning to fill in for an o.d.'d motel-bound coke-head and a fatal car-crash victim who were the undercard for an expected-to-be-brief Tyson bout that night. They agree, but only if the winner gets a chance at the middleweight crown.
Grace packs them into her lime green 4-4-2 Olds and heads off down the desert scenic route with time to spare. Too much time, since along the way they have opportunity to stew over the implications of friendless mortal combat, as well as rehash their foibles and failings. Vince confides the reason he's lately been so religious is, following the last of a series of 14 auto accidents in 14 months, Jesus showed up to miraculously lift the wrecked vehicle off his head and has been making unannounced visits ever since. Cesar, after a lengthy freak in Spanish regarding a much-alluded to incident at Madison Squre Garden, vents with an eerie metaphysical calm the split-second error that derailed his career -- and, since he was defeated by a gay boxer, prompted brief experimentation with bisexuality. Much new tension ensues, compounded by their picking up an abandoned "little junky tart" (Lucy Liu) to pay for gas when Grace's credit card bounces.
Things get both more riotous and serious closer to Vegas, culminating in the fight itself. As celeb cameo spectators filter into a largely empty auditorium for the anticlimactic main event that will follow, the prelim turns out to be by far the more compelling, grueling match of the evening, as Cesar and Vince literally pummel each other into hallucinations fueled by their private insecurities. And Jesus, babes, and beefcake.
Shelton has a gift for breathing reality into sport-centric characters. Few filmmakers could make such punchy, entertaining yobs (he also wrote the screenplay for another, more outrageous but less insightful fight comedy, The Great White Hype) so authentic, shunning neither the purity nor the brutality of the sweet science for sake of humor. Some might find its ending a little convenient, but Play It to the Bone is still one of the better sports films in general, and boxing films in particular, in recent years. B+
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