Christy is a well-acted biopic centered on a compelling figure. Even at more than two hours, though, I sensed something crucial was missing. It didn’t become clear what the narrative was lacking until the obligatory end text, mentioning that Christy Martin married her former rival in the ring, Lisa Holewyne. The film’s best scenes are between Sydney Sweeney as Martin and the underrated Katy O’Brian as Holewyne, sharing a natural chemistry. If it weren’t for the closing text, though, you wouldn’t know that these two became a couple. What should’ve been a focal point of the film is more of a footnote.
That’s not to say the film omits Martin’s sexual orientation. It’s established from the beginning that she likes girls, secretly seeing her high school sweetheart, played by Jess Gabor. Her heartless mother (Merritt Wever) would rather see Christy married to an abusive husband than hear gossip about her daughter dating another woman. Enter Ben Foster as James V. Martin, Martin’s coach turned spouse. Foster is chillingly effective as a weak man who nonetheless comes to control every aspect of Martin’s life, from her career, to her image, to her sexuality.
Martin is a force of nature in front of the cameras and when facing an opponent. At home, though, her husband holds all of the power without even raising his voice. It’s only a matter of time until he raises his fist and eventually, much worse. Obviously, the abuse that Marin endured is an essential part of her story to tell. The problem is that the film focuses more on her toxic marriage than on her recovery or who Martin is as an individual. For a film about a woman taking back her independence, we don’t learn much about Martin other than that she’s a fighter (in more ways than one).
That said, what Martin overcame was miraculous, especially in the third act. After more than two hours of physical and emotional abuse, though, Christy becomes an exhausting, repetitive experience without much reward. More emphasis on her rivalry turned friendship turned romance with Holewyne could’ve given the film some breathing room. O’Brian, who gave one of last year’s best supporting performances in Love Lies Bleeding, makes another strong impression here as a woman whose initial animosity towards Martin evolved into respect, admiration, and genuine concern. This should’ve been the film’s emotional core, but Sweeney and O’Brian don’t have nearly enough scenes together. Gabor’s character provides some warmth, although she also disappears without much closure.
Genes/jeans commercials notwithstanding, Sweeney is one of our most promising young actresses. While she’s good here, I hesitate to call this the best performance of her career. That would be the episode of Euphoria with Cassie’s bathroom breakdown. Still, you can sense that preparation that went into Sweeney’s performance, suggesting that she’s ready to take on more challenging roles. She gives Martin a fighting spirit, but the film surrounding her needed more heart and a more engaging hook. Christy ultimately plays it safe with conventional biopic tropes and straightforward direction, ending with a shrug rather than a knockout.