That Ryan Coogler chose to follow his potent indie debut Fruitvale Station with Creed, the anticipated revival of the once-dominant Rocky franchise, made for an intriguing but worrying shift in scale. You don’t have to look beyond the last few years to see how independent visions can get squashed in the big-money, globally-focused realm of studio moviemaking. (Good job getting out while you could, Joss Whedon.) But as others like George Miller and Adam McKay have proven in 2015 alone, magic can happen when an artist is left to make their art, with a sizable budget to back them up.
Add Coogler to that list: with what turns out to be an audacious sophomore effort, the young director has now established himself as one of Hollywood’s most exciting new talents. Creed revels in the familiar and expected – its plot won’t surprise you, nor will the emotional beats it hits from scene to scene – but it’s also complete with visual finesse, powerhouse acting and authentic drama. That’s where this film thrives, where it sidesteps expectations – in the intimate scenes between Adonis (Michael B. Jordan) and his love interest Bianca (the wonderful Tessa Thompson); in the camera's focus on an aged Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone), whose eyes alone communicate decades of triumphs and tragedies; in the single-take depiction of a boxing match, exhilarating both because of Coogler’s radical artistry and the fluid movement with which he captures a climactic moment. Creed pulls off the rarest of balances: plenty formulaic, but full of life.
Structurally, Creed is a standard sequel, to the point where aspects of its narrative seem cut-and-paste from the original Rocky. We meet Adonis Johnson, the son of Rocky’s infamous opponent Apollo Creed (who died in the ring), living a quiet life with his wealthy mother (Phylicia Rashad), working a basic desk job while also sneaking off to Mexico for underground boxing matches. He never met his father – and in his first 10 years of life, he didn’t even know he had one. There’s something innate about his desire to box as his father did – against the wishes of his mother, who's still haunted by what happened to her then-lover – but Creed steadily reveals itself as a film more concerned with legacy and passion. Coogler accordingly allows for a more complex rendering of Adonis, as his “destiny” is principally informed by the ambiguous shadow of his late, great father.
And Jordan is up for the challenge. The young actor, who between brilliant turns in Fruitvale Station, Friday Night Lights and now Creed already seems overdue for some major hardware, simply owns this movie. Coogler operates at such a kinetic pace – and is so embracing of the pulsating soundtrack and riveting action sequences – that it could be easy to take its lead actor for granted. As he works his way through training montages and in-match beatings, Jordan proves himself a natural fit within the film’s old-fashioned parameters. But he digs much deeper. He’s got a million-dollar smile that cuts through corny bits with seductive ease, a well of emotion that brutally flows to the surface during Creed’s heaviest moments, and a dynamic comic edge that fills his character out with crucial variation. Jordan presents himself as a star here – an actor who can carry an ambitious studio picture on his shoulders and totally run with it.
Perhaps the most underrated aspect of Jordan’s performance is his generous work opposite Stallone and Thompson. Rocky Balboa comes into the picture after Adonis seeks him out, looking for a trainer while also – again, that idea of legacy seeping through – negotiating the role that the ghost of his father must play in his path to champion. Rocky is initially dismissive, then curious, and finally, deeply invested when Adonis reveals his true identity. Immediately, the rapport between Stallone and Jordan is seamless. There’s a touching, paternalistic quality to Stallone’s work here, but make no mistake: it’s enhanced and broadened by Jordan’s vivid emotionality, his ability to so tightly connect and develop a sense of trust. As Stallone moves into Creed’s center, he more than holds his own, conveying experience with a melancholic weight – and, following a relatively unexpected plot shift, a hint of tragedy as well. But like Thompson, who’s fiery and sharp as the musician who catches Adonis’ eye, he shines brightest when playing alongside the film’s namesake.
Coogler is in total command of this thing, too. His direction is infectious, personal and expansive without sacrificing the pleasures of the traditional Rocky formula. Most of what happens here – up to the climax, in which a certain tune roars in right on cue – is telegraphed by what’s come before it, an assumed hindrance for a filmmaker tasked with providing a contemporary update. Coogler’s disinterest in major subversion is a political choice in its own right, though; his adept use of masculine melodrama allows Creed to subtly shift perspectives, putting a very different – and far less-represented – type of protagonist in Rocky’s place. He allows the franchise to thematically evolve. There’s a moment when Bianca, who is steadily going deaf (a little heavy-handed for a musician character, but Thompson’s good enough to work through it), tells Adonis that, rather than turn away from her passion, she’ll keep doing what she loves for as long as she can. There’s a power to that sentiment in Creed throughout – in Adonis’ inability to turn away from the sport that killed his father, and in Rocky’s struggle to face the long road to death with so much already behind him. It’s that concept of time that gives Creed a real pulse, with stakes beyond the story at hand and that more richly get at ideas of passion, legacy and fulfillment.
Coogler has an ear for natural dialogue and a feeling for honest emotion, and he infuses those elements into Creed without a hitch. But that’s not what makes his effort so impressive. Rather, it’s his method of homage and continuation. There are lines here and there that land flat, a few touches that might merit an eye-roll or two. But around that construct is genuinely exciting revitalization, found in the big moments and the small moments alike. By the time that final round-bell dings, you’ll feel compelled to stand up and cheer. Whether it’s for Coogler’s substantial accomplishment or Adonis’ inspired endurance is another matter entirely – but isn’t that what good blockbuster moviemaking is all about, anyway?
Grade: A-