Playing himself, Ali acts out what is in many ways a fiction, or at least such a steep reduction of familiar events that it cannot help but resemble fiction. The movie is precisely structured, dramatically heightened, sentimental as hell. That’s the appeal. It’s an artifact, less memorable for being good (it isn’t) than for how clearly it spells out what the Ali of 1977 wanted the world to understand about Ali.
K. Austin Collins
June 07, 2016