20 of the Best Boxing Movies of All Time

Creed is back: the franchise-within-a-franchise that not only revitalized the Rocky brand but reinvigorated the sport as a film genre returns with a second sequel, this time helmed by star and first-time director Michael B. Jordan. The early word is promising, and it looks like we’re due for another gritty, but rousing, trip into the ring.

Boxing movies share tropes with sports movies generally, but throughout its history, the real-life version has tended to attract both bona fide athletes and a cross-section of America’s less privileged classes. With its sweaty, violent, and less-than-glamourous milieu, boxing has attracted plucky upstarts alongside the seamier elements (the histories of the American mob and boxing aren’t at much of a remove, for instance).

That complexity, while not always reflected on film, has inspired some thoughtful and deeply ambiguous narratives about the costs of fame and fortune, while also offering plenty of room for the fist-pumping moments that are the lifeblood of great sports movies. Here are 20 of the great movies that explore the many sides of America’s other national pastime.

The Set-Up (1949)

Robert Wise, the director who brought us one of our best musicals in West Side Story), as well as a couple of our best horror and science fiction movies (The House on Haunted Hill and The Day the Earth Stood Still) also gifted us The Set Up, a brilliantly sweaty boxing movie that also stands as a great film noir. Like Robert Ryan’s tired, has-been boxer Stoker Thompson, the movie is lean and dirty, taking place mostly in a smoky, small-time arena in which there aren’t any saints. Noir mainstay Audrey Totter plays his wife — she knows he’s on his last legs, but also knows they have nothing if he can’t win (or throw) just one more fight.

Girlfight (2000)

Women’s boxing is much more of a thing now than it was in 2000, making this Michelle Rodriguez debut even more trailblazing. It’s also the writing/direcing debut of Karyn Kusama (Jennifer’s Body, The Invitation), and the two form a winning team in a story that leans into inspirational sports-movie tropes without ever sacrificing a sense of realism.

The Ring (1927)

Though clearly not known for sports movies, Alfred Hitchcock was a fan of the fights, and brings a sense of verisimilitude to the story here (or, at least it feels realistic to those of us with no experience of British boxing in the 1920s). With superb visual style, Hitchcock weaves themes relating to the titular shape into and around the story of a fairground boxer who meets his match in a newcomer while navigating the love triangle that develops between the two men and the woman they both fall for.

The Hurricane (1999)

Norman Jewison’s film is, in some regards, a fairly by-the-numbers biopic…but the story of middleweight boxer Rubin “The Hurricane” Carter, who was railroaded into a twenty year prison sentence for murder, remains relevant and wildly compelling. Denzel Washington gives one of his finest performances in the lead role, and the film serves as a reminder of the extent to which boxing and social justice (or lack thereof) have always been intertwined.

The Boxer (1997)

Another film that deals with the socio-economic ties between boxing and larger communities, but in a very different context. Daniel Day-Lewis (who trained for over a year prior to filming) plays Danny Flynn, a one-time Provisional IRA volunteer trying to avoid trouble (and The Troubles) following his release from prison — which is of course easier said than done. It’s a particularly Irish setting, but Jim Sheridan’s film explores the ways in which boxing is often closely tied to communities on the lower end of the social and economic ladders, for better and worse.

Rocky (1976)

As inspirational sports narratives go, it’s hard to beat Rocky’s blend of old-school fist-pumping and enough realism (that not-entirely-happy ending, for instance) to keep things from ever getting too schmaltzy. The meta-narrative doesn’t hurt, either: His screenplay and starring role catapulted Rocky-esque underdog Sylvester Stallone from Hollywood bit player to the A-list (he was nominated for an Oscar, and the movie won Best Picture and Best Director). And, of course, it kicked off a franchise that, while having gone down more than once, is still decidedly not out in 2023.

Million Dollar Baby (2004)

On a surface level, there’s nothing that Million Dollar Baby does that other boxing movies haven’t done a hundred times before. There’s a plucky outsider with a dream, a gruff trainer, and a wise elder, all in service to a story of a boxer who (almost literally) gives up everything to be the best. But the best sports movies don’t necessarily subvert the tropes, instead playing them for everything they’re worth, and the key players here do just that. The film features Clint Eastwood at his best as both actor and director, and Morgan Freeman and Hilary Swank are in peak form, too. All three won Oscars for the film, which is one of only two boxing movies ever to have taken home Best Picture.

Battling Butler (1926)

There were parodies of boxing movies almost before there were boxing movies, and Buster Keaton excels in this lesser-known entry in his filmography, in which he plays Alfred Butler, a rich kid so desperate to impress the girl (just called “the mountain girl”) that he pretends to be a world-class championship fighter. The result is some truly high-end buffoonery. As is always the case with Keaton, the choreography and athleticism on display in the fight scenes is at least as impressive as that in any real world bout.

Body & Soul (1947)

John Garfield was at the top of Hollywood’s A-list before he ran afoul of the House Un-American Activities Committee, and this film, one of Garfield’s best, speaks to that era in ways that HUAC couldn’t have been happy about. A gruff working-class New Yorker (as Garfield had been himself), Charley Davis gets into boxing against the wishes of his mother, rising up the ladder with the support of some unscrupulous characters. He takes as a trainer a Black boxer (Canada Lee, a brilliant actor also soon to be brought down by HUAC) no longer able to find work because of his skin colour. Given the choice between his principles and money, Charley chooses the former, even if he knows it could mean his life.

Raging Bull (1980)

Jake LaMotta isn’t a hero. Instead of celebrating the sweet science as so many boxing films do, Martin Scorsese’s early ‘80s masterwork meditates on the idea that, surprise, the “masculine” brand of violence boxing celebrates might not be confined to the ring. Robert DeNiro’s LaMotta is a pretty poor excuse for a human being, but Scorsese makes his rise and fall fascinating nonetheless. Moreover, the fight photography is hypnotic, with the matches feeling like beautiful, horrific fever dreams that capture a sense of what it might be like to be inside a ring rather than watching from the floor.

The Greatest (1977)

While The Greatest doesn’t entirely work, its central conceit is pretty smart: who better to play Muhammed Ali than Muhammed Ali (with all respect to Will Smith)? That’s the film’s greatest strength, and its biggest weakness — Ali’s participation means that the film largely stays in the realm of hagiography, but it’s got an undeniably joyful energy. The fight scenes are mostly made up of actual footage from Ali’s bouts, and the supporting cast includes James Earl Jones, Paul Winfield, and Ernest Borgnine.

Ali (2000)

Where The Greatest leans into the infectiously upbeat energy of Muhammed Ali, this film perhaps leans too hard in the other direction, focusing on his tragedies over his many triumphs. Still, director Michael Mann makes a helluva case for Ali’s broader relevance (opening the film with a brilliant montage set to Sam Cooke’s “Bring It Home to Me”). Will Smith gives an incendiary performance that more than earned him his first Academy Award nomination.

Creed (2015)

Creed simultaneously revived the Rocky franchise and pointed toward the future of boxing movies, celebrating everything that we love about the genre while also turning old tropes on their heads. Donnie Creed is a scrappy underdog too, but he’s also the rich son of boxing royalty facing off against a gruff, working class opponent. Michael B. Jordan is more than a match for earlier boxing greats, while director Ryan Coogler creates a movie that’s thoughtful and contemplative while never forgetting to be crowd-pleasing. Sylvester Stallone, back as Rocky, gives one of his best performances ever as the one-time great surrendering to the depredations of old age.

The Champion (1949)

The first of two genuinely great boxing movies directed by Mark Robson stars Kirk Douglas as a back-stabbing, brutal boxing champ who ruthlessly climbs up the ladder while treating the people in his life (especially the women) like garbage. Deeply cynical about success, American-style, the film came from producer Stanley Kramer and writer Carl Foreman, who would collaborate just a couple of years later on High Noon, an anti-HUAC film that would set off a firestorm in a much more charged climate.

Fat City (1972)

As with many of the very best boxing movies, director John Huston (who made a late career comeback with this near-blockbuster) understood that boxing is a sport best encapsulated by Americans on the margins. The traditionally butch Huston brings his sweaty, hard-drinking style to the story of past-his-prime boxer Billy Tully (Stacey Keach), who takes a chance on a promising teenager (Jeff Bridges), only to watch his own star fall while his young protege’s career rises, A Star Is Born style. It’s ultimately a story about the risks people will take when they have nowhere to go but up.

Cinderella Man (2005)

Teamed with Russell Crowe, director Ron Howard is at his crowd-pleasing best with this film inspired by real-life Cinderella Man, James J. Braddock. The picture builds confidently toward a not-entirely-unexpected upset, but where it excels is in recreating a realistic Depression-era milieu.

The Champ (1931)

Or you could watch a Depression-era boxing film actually filmed during the Great Depression. Wallace Beery (who won a Best Actor Oscar for the part) plays a washed-up, alcoholic boxer, struggling to put himself back on the straight and narrow in order to care for his young son, Dink (Jackie Cooper). As a pre-Code film, The Champ subverts many of the typical gender roles, with the film’s men in caregiving jobs and Dink’s estranged mother footing many of the bills. And, spoiler: don’t look for a happy ending…the movie’s ending is beautiful, but crushing.

The Harder They Fall (1956)

More often than typical sports movies, boxing films tend to veer from inspirational tropes in favour of exploring the seamier side of the sport, no doubt influenced by the sweet science’s often sordid history. This one, also from director Mark Robson, was inspired by the story of boxer Primo Carnera, a giant of the sport in the mid-20th century who developed a reputation (not entirely proven, but certainly not disproven) for being in bed with the mob, and generally crooked. The version of the character presented here, Toro Moreno, is boosted by the mafia without his even realising it, even as they leech off of his success. Humphrey Bogart, in his final film role, plays a complicit reporter in on the grift.

Requiem for Heavyweight (1962)

Also (very loosely) based on the life of Primo Carnera, this Rod Serling-written classic stars Anthony Quinn as a once impressive boxer being put out to pasture, with Jackie Gleason giving a great performance as his conflicted manager. It’s as good a boxing film as it is a heartrending story about the ways we treat our icons once they’ve outlived their usefulness, and features appearances by Muhammad Ali (as Cassius Clay) and Jack Dempsey as themselves.

Somebody Up There Likes Me (1956)

Robert Wise’s Somebody Up There Likes Me isn’t quite as impressive as his earlier The Set-Up, but not much is, and that fact takes very little away from this follow-up. Paul Newman (in one of his earliest roles) plays real-life middleweight legend Rocky Graziano, with Wise leaning into the story of Graziano’s redemption from a life of crime and military desertion. In the era of the Hays code, crime couldn’t be seen to pay, so it’s especially impressive that (spoiler) the film ends on a pretty upbeat note.