It was perhaps unavoidable that writer-director Ryan Coogler’s Rocky pseudo-sequel Creed would be more of a conventional, broadly appealing film than his poignant 2013 debut Fruitvale Station. It comes with the territory when shifting from a depiction of real-world police brutality to the most resilient sports film franchise in history. Still, Coogler’s talents are evident even in a by-the-numbers feature like Creed, which is essentially a high-energy remix of Rocky Balboa’s original 1976 tale.
The new film concerns Adonis “Donny” Johnson (Michael B. Jordan), son of the mistress of former heavyweight champion (and Rocky rival-turned-friend) Apollo Creed. Conceived shortly before his father died in the ring, the young Donny is eventually tracked down and taken in by Creed’s widow Mary Anne (Phylicia Rashād). As an adult, Donny has a suit-and-tie day job but moonlights in underground Mexican boxing matches, always under the surname Johnson. He soon moves to Philadelphia and seeks out retired champ Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone), urging the weary ex-fighter to train him. Naturally, the reluctant Rocky eventually relents, and although both fighter and trainer prefer to keep Donny’s parentage concealed, secrets have a way of getting out.
Broadly speaking, Coogler’s script does nothing particularly surprising with this story, which like the original Rocky is ultimately about an underdog keen to prove he’s not a “bum.” (An anonymous bum in Rocky’s case, and a pretender bum coasting on his heritage in Donny’s situation.) The obligatory emotional beats tick by like clockwork, and the cast members draw their characters with bold strokes—Stallone included, in a droll, vulnerable performance. Nonetheless, Coogler bestows the whole affair with a rousing, contagious vigor, not to mention a plethora of splendid Philly-specific detail and an unexpected bounty of Rocky franchise fan-service. Creed might be a crowd-pleaser, but it’s a crackerjack one.
Creed opens Wednesday, November 25 in wide release.
