Based on the true story of Claressa Shields, The Fire Inside follows the boxer, played by Ryan Destiny, as she rises from a tough upbringing in Flint, Michigan, to become a boxing champion. The film hits many familiar beats of the underdog sports drama: the determined athlete with a troubled family life, the reluctant coach turned mentor, and the weight of expectations from a struggling hometown. What sets it apart from others in the genre is that all this happens in the first half of the film. The story then shifts focus to what happens after the “happily ever after” most sports movies end on.
In her directorial debut, Rachel Morrison—known for her cinematography in Mudbound and Black Panther—brings a grounded visual approach to the film. However, for a movie helmed by a cinematographer, it looks surprisingly plain and basic, bordering on a TV movie at times. The direction itself remains straightforward and unremarkable, lacking the creative choices needed to elevate it beyond its premise.
The script, penned by the acclaimed Barry Jenkins (Moonlight), devotes significant time to character-building but often tells us about Claressa’s toughness rather than showing it through meaningful action. These are the moments where stronger directorial choices could have made a difference. A bolder approach might have been to fully embrace Claressa’s unyielding, even unlikable, nature—a path the script and direction hint at but never fully commit to. Surprisingly, the boxing scenes lack emotional weight, with Claressa’s victories and setbacks feeling distant. Her apparent disinterest at times seems to bleed into the narrative, making it harder for the audience to remain invested in her journey by the time she reaches the Olympics. Instead of delivering powerful punches, the film often just goes through the motions.
While the performances are solid, they don’t elevate the material as much as they could. Ryan Destiny gives a strong portrayal of Shields, balancing intensity with vulnerability, but the script doesn’t give her much room to truly shine. Brian Tyree Henry’s performance as the coach is familiar and reliable, but it feels like a role he’s played before, without much new to bring to this iteration. The film does have its moments, particularly in quieter, off-the-ring scenes. One standout moment is when Destiny’s character pointedly declares, “Money is recognition!”—a line delivered with more conflict and punch than any of the fight sequences in the film. However, these moments are too scattered to build into a deeper, more resonant exploration of the themes.
As the third act shifts focus from boxing to Shields’ struggle for recognition and respect, the emotional impact is lessened because the audience isn’t as invested as it should be. Rather than truly engaging with the systemic challenges she faces, the film skims the surface. A bolder choice would have been to center the entire story on this part of her life, where the stakes feel most compelling and unique. Instead, the narrative settles into a fine but forgettable rhythm, missing the opportunity to match the daring spirit of its protagonist.
The Fire Inside tries to carve out a place for itself in a crowded genre, but its execution feels too restrained to leave a lasting impact. Like Shields in the ring, the film shows promise, but it doesn’t land its punches.