The key to a good franchise is a healthy sense of evolution. That can be difficult when you’ve been around as long as “Rocky,” but “Creed” – Ryan Coogler’s 2015 spin-off of the boxing juggernaut – did the trick. Eight years and a sequel later, “Creed III” pushes forward that evolution.
“Creed III” continues the story of Adonis Creed (Michael B. Jordan), son of Apollo Creed and unstoppable force in the world of boxing. After the events of “Creed II,” Adonis has less of a chip on his shoulder than we’ve seen before. He’s on top of the world, finally comfortable with his position in life. But a ghost from his past is lurking just around the corner, intent on disrupting everything he has worked so hard to achieve.
Not only does Jordan reprise his role as Adonis for the third installment, but he also makes an impressive feature debut as a director, proving he’s as much a force behind the camera as he is in front of it and breathing new life into the franchise. In the first two “Creed” films, Adonis sets out with something to prove, whether it be to the world or to himself. But “Creed III” is less about setting out to prove something and more about reconciliation and growth. With a strong script, capable hands behind the camera, and two central performances that work in perfect tandem with one another, “Creed III” is able to marinate on heavy themes like forgiveness and guilt while still delivering a crowd-pleasing sports movie.
At the beginning of the film, Adonis has gone into a rather cushy retired life after an incredibly successful run in the ring. He’s married to Bianca (Tessa Thompson), who has become a big shot music producer, and they live in an almost vomitously stunning mansion in the Hollywood Hills. He spends his days helping to mentor the next generation at the gym with Tony “Little Duke” Evans (Wood Harris), or having make-believe tea parties with his adorable daughter Amara (Mila Davis-Kent). In short, things are pretty perfect.
But someone has returned to remind Adonis of the past he’s tried so hard to forget. After years spent in prison, his childhood friend Damian (Jonathan Majors) is finally a free man. The two were inseparable when they were young, and Damian was the most promising boxing prodigy around – until a late night excursion led to a chance meeting that turned violent. The cops showed up, Adonis escaped, and Damian went away. Now he’s back with a bone to pick, the prodigal son returned with nothing but Adonis standing in his way.
At the beginning of “Creed,” we’re given a short look into Adonis’s difficult childhood. “Creed III” expands on his early life but injects the light of friendship into that equation. Young Adonis (Alex Henderson) follows young Damian (Spence Moore II) around like an overeager puppy, happy to turn a blind eye if Damian fixes a fight, or hangs out with the wrong people. Older Adonis holds that same affection for his friend but is exponentially more wary – not only of what Damian’s return means, but of what emotions will arise for him if he allows himself to return to that painful night. But still, there’s that same reverence, now tinged with guilt, that blinds Adonis to the fact that Damian might not have the purest of intentions in coming back.
Keenan Coogler and Zach Baylin’s screenplay does a fine job of setting Adonis and Damian’s personal grievances with each other against the larger context in which they exist. It’s clear why Damian resents Adonis’s success, and why Adonis – despite sound advice from those around him – would let his guilt over what happened that night cloud his judgment on how to handle Damian’s return. But there’s also an underlying current of grief for lost friendship in the screenplay, always present even when Adonis and Damian might be blind to it themselves.
In numerous flashbacks, we’re privy to the easy chemistry between young Adonis and Damian before everything went wrong. In the present day, the two men work so hard to shield their true feelings from one another, that uncomplicated relationship they once shared is erased. The way the flashbacks are deployed heightens the audience’s sense of loss, especially when we’re left watching two men fail to communicate about the way the world has failed them. They were kids, and there’s no one to blame – but it’s easier to blame the person in front of you rather than the system you can’t see.
Through his direction, Jordan brings that personal and broader tension to life, in both the fight scenes and the quieter moments. The boxing matches are exhilarating, the camera staying tight on the action to showcase the artistry of the fight choreography and expertly wielding harsh and fast cuts to emphasize the power of the punches. But the force of the fight would be useless if we couldn’t see the weight of the human emotions behind it. It’s no surprise that in a film like this, Adonis and Damian will have to meet each other in the ring at some point. But even when Damian matches up against a different fighter, the camera is still pulled to the connection he has with Adonis, the other boxer’s injury less important than Adonis’s reaction. No matter who Damian is in the ring with on his rush to the top, it’s Adonis he’s really fighting.
If there’s something to take issue with in “Creed III,” the film is weighted toward Adonis’s side of the coin, and his reconciliation with the past is given more heft than Damian’s journey. But what Majors can do with a character that’s not given quite as much to work with should make us all the more excited for where his career goes from here. His superpower lies in the vulnerability that peeks through the tough guy act, a quality that makes him all the more compelling as an antagonist. When he and Adonis finally get in that ring together, that menace is stripped away, even as the fight itself becomes more brutal.
As much as this is a boxing movie, some of its strongest moments are its quietest. One of the film’s best scenes finds Adonis and Damian sitting in a diner moments after they reunite. Jordan deploys intense close ups on each man as they talk, evoking an intimacy that feels intensely private. Both men are closed off from one another, but the closeness with which the camera observes them allows microexpressions to move across each actor’s face at their leisure, exposing the truth behind the mask. There’s a taut guilt on Jordan’s face as he carefully skirts around the issue of their shared past, and Majors deploys his natural charisma as a way to shield the subtle hints of anger and anguish that play across his features. Their conversations throughout the film feel like chess matches more so than true connection, with Jordan emphasizing the diverging lines of their lives through his direction. They’re two sides of a coin – the same, but opposite. And that’s the truth they have to reconcile.
