“Boxing is about respect. Taking it from the other guy, getting it for yourself”. In a grim corner of Los Angeles, Maggie (Hilary Swank) is a young woman with no discernable future, determined to shake her trailer-trash past. She’s tough, knows a thing or two about defending herself and chooses boxing. Fortunately her local gym is run by a one-time champion trainer (Clint Eastwood) whom she chooses to train her. Dismissive of Maggie’s enthusiasm and scornful of woman, he gives her short shrift but is eventually won over by determination and persistence. He’s a bit of a softy underneath it all and besides, his partner at the gym (Morgan Freeman) has set him up. The pair become fast friends and with a powerful upper-cut, she brawls her way to the top until, one punch away from having it all, the landscape dramatically changes. A McGuffin you might say and you’d be right for Eastwood’s film is not Rocky-For-Girls but a powerful meditation on self-respect, resilience and inspiration. Swank, always terrific, is at the top of her game and fights to the very end. It’s a thrilling performance enhanced by Eastwood’s masterful control behind the camera. Million Dollar Baby looks suitably ragged and downtrodden, is visually and emotionally dirty, and, with the notable, one-dimensional exception of Swank’s hillbilly family, is populated with thoroughly believable characters. On the downside is Freeman’s intrusive narration, one that weighs heavily on a film already struggling with Eastwood self-cast in a crucial role: a strong actor, he’s no match for Swank’s muscular effort. Yet these are minor bruises in a heat-felt film that’s not only plausible but sweetly touching. // COLIN FRASER