REVIEW: A Phenomenal Sydney Sweeney Powers 'Christy' Beyond Its Tropes

Biopics about athletes often follow a familiar trajectory — the underdog rise, the grueling training sequences, and the climactic showdown in the ring. A lot of people have started wondering why Hollywood keeps shelling out the same boxing movies every year and if they actually have enough to set them apart. Christy is based on the true story of a trailblazing boxer Christy Salters, whose personal life was as turbulent as her professional one. The film blends the visceral energy of a sports drama with the intimate gravity of a character study.

Christy also begins with many of the familiar beats — the training montages, the grit, the emotional highs and lows that accompany any rise-to-glory story. Yet, what ultimately sets it apart is the subversion of genre, and most importantly the sheer power of its lead performance. Sydney Sweeney completely transforms into Christy, delivering a career-defining turn that will cement her as one of the finest actors of her generation. She gives a transformative performance that anchors the film and elevates it into an emotionally charged exploration of abuse, resilience, and the courage to fight far greater battles than those inside the ropes.

Sweeney is simply a revelation. She captures Christy’s physical strength and ferocity in the ring, but more importantly, she brings nuance and vulnerability to the woman behind the gloves. Her embodiment is so complete that the line between actress and character almost disappears. This role feels like the one that pushes Sweeney beyond stardom into true greatness, and it is difficult to imagine the film working without her.

Ben Foster, too, is brilliantly haunting. He plays Christy’s husband and trainer, a figure who initially seems to embody the archetypal tough-love coach. But as the story unfolds, his character reveals a far darker side. Foster’s performance is deeply unsettling, gradually peeling back layers of menace until his true nature is impossible to ignore. His presence injects the film with a palpable tension that lingers long after the credits roll.

While the narrative starts as a boxing tale, Michôd wisely steers it into more challenging territory. What emerges is a layered character study and an unflinching exploration of marital abuse, resilience, and the courage to defy societal expectations. The shift from sports drama to intimate, psychological portrait gives the film its weight, even if the execution sometimes falters.

On a technical level, Christy is a mixed bag. The costumes are excellent, evoking the period and character worlds with authenticity. Makeup, in particular, stands out, making the physical toll of both boxing and abuse strikingly real. Michôd’s direction is steady and assured, though it occasionally leans too heavily on convention. The cinematography, unfortunately, feels substandard for a film of this ambition, with flat visuals that don’t always capture the raw energy of the story. Similarly, while the editing keeps the film coherent, it lacks the daring that might have elevated key sequences. Pacing can drag in places, and several supporting characters are disappointingly one-dimensional.

Still, Christy finds its way thanks to its central performances. There are moments of humor scattered throughout — though the film could have used more levity to balance its heaviness — and plenty of crowd-pleasing, badass sequences that showcase Christy’s strength and spirit. It may not break new ground in the biopic genre, but it delivers a solid, emotionally resonant story anchored by a magnetic lead.

At the end of the day, Christy belongs to Sydney Sweeney as she makes the familiar feel vital, the predictable feel powerful, and the story itself unforgettable. This is her movie, and it is one that confirms her place among the greats.

Rating: ★★★½