“The Fire Inside” (2024) is a sports biopic about dual protagonists, boxer Claressa “T-Rex” Shields (Ryan Destiny—what a great last name) and her volunteer neighborhood coach, Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry). With their eyes on the Olympic gold medal, they wonder whether she can win.  Is there a motivation to box without a guaranteed pay day? Academy Award cinematographer nominee Rachel Morrison makes her directorial feature film debut with this coming-of-age story that Academy Award winner Barry Jenkins wrote.

Sometime a story is so innately good that despite the film’s flaws, it still shines. Shields is an innately intriguing figure. In the right hands, “The Fire Inside” could have become the definitive film about oldest daughters or Black girls and how they are expected to achieve excellence and support everyone without losing focus despite abuse, exploitation, family dysfunction, societal shortfalls, and receiving little to no support. Destiny becomes her character and achieves the balance of defying gendered and regional expectations without being annoying for also wanting to enjoy traditional teenage rites of passage like hanging out with her friends, eating junk food and going to prom. Morrison excels at shooting these scenes and imbues them with a nostalgia using the tender soft lighting of soft hued lavender and pinks that suggest the wistful romanticism seen in films like “All of Us Strangers” (2023).

While Shields’ story is strong enough to carry the entire movie, she shares the spotlight with Jason, almost like screentime compensation for his years of volunteering as her coach.  Henry is always an engaging onscreen presence, which gives credibility to Jason. Unfortunately Jenkins’ screenplay does not highlight him organically, lacks pacing and interrupts Shields’ story whenever it picks up momentum. While it is easy to appreciate that the pair are experiencing a similar story arc of aiming high, achievement, disillusionment then resilience, it comes at the sacrifice of other storylines with lots of potential. For instance, “The Fire Inside” never conveys precisely how and why Jason’s coaching style works for Shields, who tends to disassociate between rounds. He notices and knows how to shake her out of it, but his actual tips do not sound all that different though perhaps more explicit than Coach Parker (Lanette Ware), the official Olympic boxing coach. In the end, just the sound of his voice helps, but there is more there, and if the filmmakers understood it, they did not show it to the audience.

Also Morrison is at her weakest in the natural dramatic story arc of a fight. There are ways to punctuate a hit, and it gets lost in the sauce. The fight should echo the overall story or at least underscore Shields’ personality so even a boxing novice would understand what makes her special compared to her competitors. Here is where the “Creed” franchise and movies like “Day of the Fight” (2024) makes it look easy, but it is not. She does borrow a page from “Rocky” by giving Michigan the Philadelphia treatment without the recognizable landmarks. Michigan turns into an unofficial third character—abandoned houses, rundown businesses, humble homes. As Shields’ star begins to rise, her environment does its best to honor the occasion and cheer her on with business signs. Detroit denizens become a Greek chorus of sorts.

As Shields gets closer to her Olympic dreams, this backdrop is not always friendly with her self-interested cheerleaders eager to treat Shields like a giving tree before she gets to enjoy the fruits of her own labor. Jason dances really close to this line. When Jason is selfless, Shields’ family is not depicted favorably as her home is shown as completely inappropriate for children. As he becomes resentful of his investment not paying off, the Shields’ family becomes inexplicably warm and safe instead of with their palms out or looking to pat themselves on the back for their most famous member’s achievement. While it is good that the family is depicted in a nuanced way instead of good or evil, it felt as if the film did not do its audience any favors on how to spot red flags even while trying to appeal to the laudable, universally relatable goal of providing for her family. Shields’ story is one about child abuse, parentification, where an underage teenager is expected to shoulder multiple families’ finances and other adult responsibilities without adult autonomy. There is a point where her little sister participates in that behavior. “The Fire Inside” needed to be more explicit in stating that Shields should put the oxygen mask on herself first before helping her family even though by the end it is clearly the lesson. Many people will walk away remembering that she wants to buy a house for her mom and paid her bills but forget that she has not even graduated high school yet.

For a film with a majority Black cast, “The Fire Inside” focuses less on race in favor of gender in terms of explaining the discrimination that Shields faces, which is a factor in her lack of financial success. It did not have to be explicit, and perhaps the filmmakers are counting on their audience to draw these conclusions without alienating anyone. There is a missed opportunity to link how her neighborhood is allowed to fall into disrepair, and Shields is not rewarded for her excellence. Also while the film depicted the gap between possessing talent and entering spheres where like any work culture, elite competition circles comes with its own language and customs, it did not highlight how that gap widens because of how different Shields was from her competitors. In a conversation with Nicole Thompson (Sarah Allen), Jason dismisses the idea that Shields’ past will affect her future whereas Nicole is concerned about her being a kid without media training. While “The Fire Inside” elaborates on the latter, it never delves into how her upbringing affected her. It is possible that Coach Parker’s terminology is more formal, and Shields does not get it. The film never examines her relationship with her teammates, who are clearly cheering her on. “Queen of Katwe” (2016) should be required viewing for anyone making movies about Black women competing at an elite level.

In some ways, the way that “The Fire Inside” tells Shields’ story perpetuates how everyone in her life, especially those who love her, never let her take center stage or be a kid. Like “Foxcatcher” (2014), it does succeed in presenting the harsh realities that Olympians face and deglamorizing the mystique of championship. While Shields had better fortune, both films present the story of American Olympians as a lot of hard work with potentially little monetary reward. The main difference is that even a flawed community is better than one wealthy benefactor who isolates you. Still it says something about the inherent abusive nature of sports that attracts athletes from a population lulled into believe that toxicity is a normal part of life.