Led by Jake Gyllenhaal’s powerhouse performance, Southpaw lines up every boxing movie cliché and knocks them down one by one, resulting in predictable but never the less powerful viewing.

It always comes back to Rocky. Since its debut in 1976, every boxing film released has stood in the shadow of Sylvester Stallone’s masterful tale of an underdog fighter taking on the champion of the world. Only Raging Bull has matched it pound for pound, but one can argue that film is less a boxing movie and more an exploration into the animal that lives in every man.

Southpaw tries to be an amalgamation of both Rocky and Raging Bull, in the process robbing itself of its identity. Yet there is much soul and spirit in its story of a broken man fighting to regain his family and career after a tragedy robs him of both, and excitement in its brutal boxing scenes that will have viewers wince at every punch thrown. Southpaw is hardly original, but damn does it pack a punch.

A lot of its success is due to the incredible performance by Jake Gyllenhaal. He stars as Billy Hope, the light heavyweight champion brought up in the system alongside his wife Maureen (Rachel McAdams), and whose world revolves around their 10 year old daughter Leila (Oona Laurence). When Hope’s riches turns to rags he has to redeem himself not only as a fighter and a father, but as a man whose penchant for anger leads him into dark, lonely places.

Gyllenhaal (who has established himself as one of Hollywood’s most versatile powerhouse actors) puts in a transformative turn, the Oscar nominated actor’s imposing, shredded, muscular form matched by a foul mouthed temperament that is high in volatility, resulting in a character that’s a ticking bomb who harms all those around him when he explodes.

As directed by Antoine Fuqua (Training Day) and written by Sons of Anarchy creator Kurt Sutter (his debut screenplay), Southpaw is very much about rebirth as it is about redemption, a much used tangible quality in boxing films that works here due to the stakes at play: family, career, and soul.

However, the same problems that haunt Fuqua’s previous films – lack of patience in pacing, not enough depth in story – holds Southpaw back from becoming a contender in the boxing movie ranks. Needed was that extra 30 min to flesh out its ideas and allow its relationships to grow.

This is especially felt in the portrayal of Tick Wills (Forrest Whitaker), trainer to Billy Hope who also plays the part of life and spiritual advisor. His many gems about how anger can lead to destruction and how we cannot control what life might do to us are profound, yet not given the time to truly have an impact.

That being said, there is a lot to like in Southpaw. While its themes are familiar and subtlety lacking, there is no denying its convictions. Here’s hoping an extended cut is forthcoming.