I'm of the firm belief (as most people tend to be, if they care about maintaining a high standard of storytelling) that it's essential for a narrative to evolve as it progresses in order for its development to remain relevant & engaging to prospective audiences; just like a stream of water, the current has to be continuously replenished with newer flows as the body of liquid takes on a new shape / form to avoid potential stagnation... And I use this comparison because similarly to a still pool of festering algae, "Creed 3" is in desperate need of aforementioned replenishment.
To understand why, let's remind ourselves:
The first (Ryan Coogler's) felt like a very impressively layered legacy sequel (with a clear sense of focus), continuing on from the "Rocky" films through the eyes of a younger (more relatable) generation (represented by our protagonist, 'Adonis Creed'), expanding upon the world of the classics (set during the 1970s onwards) with a more resonant, contemporary voice which explored themes of toxic masculinity, unresolved grief, abandonment & over-coming childhood trauma - adding emotional heft to the events of previous installments by depicting the long-term ramifications boxing has on the impressionable youth who are thoughtlessly expected to live its consequences vicariously through their parents, growing up (questioning what the sport represents more generally & if the violence enacted in the ring is also inflicted not just on the competitors, but unknowingly on those around them, following matches). Hence, the plot wasn't simply regarding two men hitting each other in the face - but more importantly, why? What drove them to want to do this to a fellow human being & what were they aspiring to prove - to themselves or others? Ergo, since Michael B. Jordan's lead had been tragically deprived of a father figure in his infancy, we gradually realised his fights were an expression of unaddressed anguish in response to Apollo's death - allowing him to feel close to his dad - whilst the emotional pain manifested itself via physical injuries - in conflict spilling out from his head. Only when he permitted himself the chance to reconcile with the damaging feelings he harboured internally was he able to truly come to terms with what he was experiencing, process the sorrow & over-come the main obstacle (himself, not his opponent) metaphorically standing in his way. Plus, in gaining a supportive father figure (whose presence validated his identity), he no longer had the uncertainty of knowing who he was - for Sylvester Stallone's purpose was to embody a role which could reaffirm that - culminating in a rewarding catharsis, making the 2015 outing so much bigger than a mere exchange of aggressive fisticuffs.
Then in Steven Caple Jr.'s sequel (somewhat less subtle & direct in its intentions), Adonis is presented with a challenge from the son of the man who essentially killed his dad during a fight (weaponising his grief against him once more, regressing the advancement somewhat but believably depicting an understandable relapse in his mental health / judgement - when he mistakenly perceives the stakes to be more personal - when they're not) & naturally, a swift rise to power results in an equally swift fall from grace - until (again) he contextualises his problems, realises the obstacle isn't 'Drago' (or what he personifies), but himself. Basically, it's the same resolution, done sufficiently differently to feel distinctive enough that a follow-up's necessitated.
So... What does the third in the trilogy bring this time?
Honestly? Not a lot. Mostly, more of the same.
It begins with genuine promise, showing Adonis' retirement from the game & shifting focus to the maintenance of his supportive family, upon his withdrawal (humourously joking how scarier battles await him, domestically) & furthermore, his own parenting begins to be fascinatingly questioned as the film has time to reveal the effect his personal brawls have had on his daughter Amara's outlook on life (thematically linking back to the first, cynically implying violence is often cyclical in nature, permeates one generation to the next & damages dealt are seldom confined solely to one singular individual) - which is all GREAT (enhancing what came before) - capturing the dichotomy of an older, maturer father (wiser with age) looking back at his monumental legacy in hindsight, adapting to adopting increasingly quieter & healthier conveyances of love (guided tentatively by his wife) whilst his young child ages in to the same dreaded juvenility he's finally phasing out of - re-enacting the events of the first as a cautionary tale, from opposite ends of the spectrum (the tables having completely turned & him assuming the responsibility of the father he never had). Subsequently, morally ambiguous conflict (deliciously complex & engaging, yet not as cinematic) spools from that differentiation (in relation to where they are in their journeys) as the two ideologically are at loggerheads & Bianca (her mother, played by actress Tessa Thompson - reluctant to permit participation) is obviously keen to spare her infant the same torment her husband has had to endure, over the years - complicating things further, triggered by a void of cohesion in parenting techniques, in addressing the query.
Hand on heart, I love that enrichment; the two have learned their lesson as a loyal couple (solidifying their unit) & are endeavouring to take accountability & teach their little girl so she's able to learn from their mistakes (not quite seeing eye to eye on how to achieve that ideal goal) - instead of repeating them / making her own, over & over. That is a devastatingly realistic drama we can relate to, chronicling the attempted preservation of innocence (inadvertently corrupted by inherited grief, previously thought to have been contained to him alone) & if that sub-plot had been the main one, I'd have scored extremely generously.
Herein lies the problem... This is a "Creed" movie (you know what that's synonymous with now, a brand in & of itself) in what's rapidly transforming in to a formulaic, blockbuster franchise which brazenly feels the need to tick all the traditional ("Rocky") boxes (even though it's clearly moved on from that) so the inclusion of more needless fighting not only contradicts the thematic messaging ("we need to stop resorting to physical exertions of fury as a coping mechanism & communicate calmly") & regresses the character (again), but with each contrived occurrence, the revisitation to the arena feels increasingly more obvious in the insincerity behind its creative motivations - as the creators conjure conspicuously unoriginal & convoluted justifications to warrant rehashing the same product, less convincingly.
Jonathan Majors (transforming himself in to a towering beast for the part as "Damien", the new villain) is - for instance - undoubtedly magnetic on screen, utterly dominating sequences with his captivating presence in front of the camera (seriously, what an actor & a fearsome force of nature, in character)... But his inclusion simply doesn't feel "real" or warranted anymore - because (as I've acknowledged) the story has moved on from boxing, reflecting the people he's suddenly imperiling. Due to this, his existence within the context of the structure of the plot verges upon the necessity to artificially provoke action (required for marketing, not story) - in order to manufacture the meticulously shot / choreographed set pieces being sold to viewers in trailers. In short, he's a stereotypical, swappable bad guy, conveniently shoe-horned in to the project (with jarring effect) to malform the production in to something it isn't - retaining the recognisable shape of the prior films, but devoid of truth & authenticity - at the expense of its ability to grow / flourish in to what it actually wants to become.
Ultimately, there are only so many ways you can tell a story about troubled men smacking other men in the face until it borders on telling a story about men smacking the other in the face, purely for the sake of it. "Creed 3" veers perilously close to crossing that threshold & the concept has debatably run out of road, retreading old ground & therefore, fatigue sadly sets in. So then, cinema-goers attend a screening to see a product stagnate... Not evolve. How exciting.
To understand why, let's remind ourselves:
The first (Ryan Coogler's) felt like a very impressively layered legacy sequel (with a clear sense of focus), continuing on from the "Rocky" films through the eyes of a younger (more relatable) generation (represented by our protagonist, 'Adonis Creed'), expanding upon the world of the classics (set during the 1970s onwards) with a more resonant, contemporary voice which explored themes of toxic masculinity, unresolved grief, abandonment & over-coming childhood trauma - adding emotional heft to the events of previous installments by depicting the long-term ramifications boxing has on the impressionable youth who are thoughtlessly expected to live its consequences vicariously through their parents, growing up (questioning what the sport represents more generally & if the violence enacted in the ring is also inflicted not just on the competitors, but unknowingly on those around them, following matches). Hence, the plot wasn't simply regarding two men hitting each other in the face - but more importantly, why? What drove them to want to do this to a fellow human being & what were they aspiring to prove - to themselves or others? Ergo, since Michael B. Jordan's lead had been tragically deprived of a father figure in his infancy, we gradually realised his fights were an expression of unaddressed anguish in response to Apollo's death - allowing him to feel close to his dad - whilst the emotional pain manifested itself via physical injuries - in conflict spilling out from his head. Only when he permitted himself the chance to reconcile with the damaging feelings he harboured internally was he able to truly come to terms with what he was experiencing, process the sorrow & over-come the main obstacle (himself, not his opponent) metaphorically standing in his way. Plus, in gaining a supportive father figure (whose presence validated his identity), he no longer had the uncertainty of knowing who he was - for Sylvester Stallone's purpose was to embody a role which could reaffirm that - culminating in a rewarding catharsis, making the 2015 outing so much bigger than a mere exchange of aggressive fisticuffs.
Then in Steven Caple Jr.'s sequel (somewhat less subtle & direct in its intentions), Adonis is presented with a challenge from the son of the man who essentially killed his dad during a fight (weaponising his grief against him once more, regressing the advancement somewhat but believably depicting an understandable relapse in his mental health / judgement - when he mistakenly perceives the stakes to be more personal - when they're not) & naturally, a swift rise to power results in an equally swift fall from grace - until (again) he contextualises his problems, realises the obstacle isn't 'Drago' (or what he personifies), but himself. Basically, it's the same resolution, done sufficiently differently to feel distinctive enough that a follow-up's necessitated.
So... What does the third in the trilogy bring this time?
Honestly? Not a lot. Mostly, more of the same.
It begins with genuine promise, showing Adonis' retirement from the game & shifting focus to the maintenance of his supportive family, upon his withdrawal (humourously joking how scarier battles await him, domestically) & furthermore, his own parenting begins to be fascinatingly questioned as the film has time to reveal the effect his personal brawls have had on his daughter Amara's outlook on life (thematically linking back to the first, cynically implying violence is often cyclical in nature, permeates one generation to the next & damages dealt are seldom confined solely to one singular individual) - which is all GREAT (enhancing what came before) - capturing the dichotomy of an older, maturer father (wiser with age) looking back at his monumental legacy in hindsight, adapting to adopting increasingly quieter & healthier conveyances of love (guided tentatively by his wife) whilst his young child ages in to the same dreaded juvenility he's finally phasing out of - re-enacting the events of the first as a cautionary tale, from opposite ends of the spectrum (the tables having completely turned & him assuming the responsibility of the father he never had). Subsequently, morally ambiguous conflict (deliciously complex & engaging, yet not as cinematic) spools from that differentiation (in relation to where they are in their journeys) as the two ideologically are at loggerheads & Bianca (her mother, played by actress Tessa Thompson - reluctant to permit participation) is obviously keen to spare her infant the same torment her husband has had to endure, over the years - complicating things further, triggered by a void of cohesion in parenting techniques, in addressing the query.
Hand on heart, I love that enrichment; the two have learned their lesson as a loyal couple (solidifying their unit) & are endeavouring to take accountability & teach their little girl so she's able to learn from their mistakes (not quite seeing eye to eye on how to achieve that ideal goal) - instead of repeating them / making her own, over & over. That is a devastatingly realistic drama we can relate to, chronicling the attempted preservation of innocence (inadvertently corrupted by inherited grief, previously thought to have been contained to him alone) & if that sub-plot had been the main one, I'd have scored extremely generously.
Herein lies the problem... This is a "Creed" movie (you know what that's synonymous with now, a brand in & of itself) in what's rapidly transforming in to a formulaic, blockbuster franchise which brazenly feels the need to tick all the traditional ("Rocky") boxes (even though it's clearly moved on from that) so the inclusion of more needless fighting not only contradicts the thematic messaging ("we need to stop resorting to physical exertions of fury as a coping mechanism & communicate calmly") & regresses the character (again), but with each contrived occurrence, the revisitation to the arena feels increasingly more obvious in the insincerity behind its creative motivations - as the creators conjure conspicuously unoriginal & convoluted justifications to warrant rehashing the same product, less convincingly.
Jonathan Majors (transforming himself in to a towering beast for the part as "Damien", the new villain) is - for instance - undoubtedly magnetic on screen, utterly dominating sequences with his captivating presence in front of the camera (seriously, what an actor & a fearsome force of nature, in character)... But his inclusion simply doesn't feel "real" or warranted anymore - because (as I've acknowledged) the story has moved on from boxing, reflecting the people he's suddenly imperiling. Due to this, his existence within the context of the structure of the plot verges upon the necessity to artificially provoke action (required for marketing, not story) - in order to manufacture the meticulously shot / choreographed set pieces being sold to viewers in trailers. In short, he's a stereotypical, swappable bad guy, conveniently shoe-horned in to the project (with jarring effect) to malform the production in to something it isn't - retaining the recognisable shape of the prior films, but devoid of truth & authenticity - at the expense of its ability to grow / flourish in to what it actually wants to become.
Ultimately, there are only so many ways you can tell a story about troubled men smacking other men in the face until it borders on telling a story about men smacking the other in the face, purely for the sake of it. "Creed 3" veers perilously close to crossing that threshold & the concept has debatably run out of road, retreading old ground & therefore, fatigue sadly sets in. So then, cinema-goers attend a screening to see a product stagnate... Not evolve. How exciting.