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There are a million reasons to list explaining why Real Steel shouldn’t work. Much will be made of the obvious comparisons between Over the Top and its many Rocky punching bag beats. So much so, the consensus will be that Stallone should receive some sort of monetary kickback for the film. Even more will be made for its shameless heroics and beyond predictable storyline. Director Shawn Levy plunges his hand deep into an endless bag of tricks and pauses not once to reveal what we already know is going to happen yet - when all is said and done - still we cheer; still we clap; still we celebrate its metallic heart.
The big question for those who find themselves sneering at the commercials alone is why? How the hell can something so predictable and so pedestrian actually strike an honest chord? This schmaltzy future father-and-son tale can’t actually work, can it? Yes, it can. Here’s why: because sometimes we can’t always be hardcore; because sometimes the soft part of our heart needs to get punched; because sometimes – as is the case with Real Steel – movies can balance what’s familiar with good emotion and produce something inoffensive to our intelligence and still be enjoyed.
In the near-future the sport of boxing is done in the Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robots ring. People flock to stadiums to see robots duke it out; they also attend underground arenas to see the bolts fly. A mostly shirtless Charlie Kenton (Hugh Jackman) plays a down-and-out boxer and sometimes father who must work and work and work again to earn the respect of his son, Max (Dakota Goyo), after trying to orphan him with his sister (Hope Davis). Little does Charlie know that she’s going to need a babysitter…for an entire summer.
When Max discovers Atom – a specialized fighting robot – he convinces Charlie to give him a shot at the title as he can mimic the moves and grooves of those in front of him. Written by John Gatins (but based upon a Richard Matheson story and Twilight Zone episode) and also starring Evangeline Lilly and Anthony Mackie, Real Steel knows exactly what it is: corny.
And it sells it well. Maybe too well; it’s hard to expect much from the formulaic narrative and everything is gloss. There’s nothing too terribly deep below the surface and there’s little reason you should dig. Sometimes fun can be explored in the depths; most of the time, features like this one don’t plunge the depths. Is that a problem? It is and it isn’t. We have a new look to the same story. Battling robots. Cool. Yet, there’s really nothing new to the story.
From the title to the film’s beginning to the climactic shadow-boxing end, Real Steal is all about adding the pop to its own brand of corn. Even Goyo knows this and his Bieber-like enthusiasm is all onboard with bouts of dancing and dewey-eyed emotion. Jackman’s gruff side is on display early on and then the charm comes alive when a real father-and-son relationship is established between himself and Goyo. This bit of robot futurama is what I wanted from that other franchise with robots in it.
This standard tale of boxing and redemption really has no unexpectedness to its pathos, yet, there isn’t a moment that seems artificial. I guess that’s the real surprise; the action seems real and so does the calculated emotion and its characters. The metallic boxing scenes are exciting and clangingly loud thanks to Sugar Ray Leonard’s choreography; there’s a sleekness to the robot effects that make Atom and Midas almost human. These performances are matched by the human cast; everything seems perfectly plausible.
Real Steel won’t win awards; not every movie should. It won’t win over everybody or every critic either, but when I found myself getting emotionally worked up over two stupid robots bopping each other with one jab after the next inside the ring, I knew Levy was onto something…real. Yes, the movie is obnoxious with its sentimentality and familiarity and, yes, there will be the obvious sequel but there is no doubt that Real Steel is certainly much more than meets the eye.
MPAA Rating: 
