As screenwriters, we love boxing movies. Lucky for us, there are four great ones coming to theaters this fall: The Smashing Machine, Christy, The Cut and Giant. But only one of these films truly feels like a new entry into the boxing movie genre and no, it’s not the one starring Sydney Sweeney.
Written by Justin Bull (A Banquet) and directed by Sean Ellis (Anthropoid), the new film The Cut goes to a deep, dark psychological place no other boxing film has ever gone before. The nameless protagonist in the film, known only as the Boxer (Orlando Bloom), is a former champion who decides to train for his chance at redemption. The problem is he has just one week to lose roughly 30 pounds to make weight before the big fight in Vegas. His actions are brutal, border on the surreal, but are also incredibly human. We sat down with director Sean Ellis to find out why he wanted to tell such a savage story.
“I got sent this script, and I was like, this is so dark and bizarre, yet so relatable at the same time,” says Ellis. “It’s a boxing film with no boxing. It’s about the psyche of a man who is damaged, who’s fighting to get his masculinity back. That was the angle I hadn’t really seen before.”
Ellis, who has trained in martial arts and boxing himself, understands the fear and discipline the sport requires. But in The Cut, the fight is not in the ring, it’s inside the boxer’s mind and body. Food and hunger become powerful enemies. “I’ve known people who’ve suffered from eating disorders. It’s not something often talked about in male circles, but it’s very real. That made the story relatable for me,” says Ellis.
By centering the film on these internal battles, Ellis subverts the traditional training-montage formula. Instead of building toward a triumphant fight, The Cut reveals the human aspects of obsession, trauma, and self-destruction.
But it’s also the relationships in the film that feel fresh and unexpected. Boxing films often rely on the loyal, supportive yet headstrong wife, but in The Cut, Caitlin (Caitriona Balfe) is insistent on taking the moral high ground even if it means ruining the Boxer’s shot at winning. When it turns out the Boxer has no hope of playing by her rules, Caitlin can no longer witness the carnage and abandons her husband. It’s a brutal decision but Ellis describes it this way: “You can’t help the ones you love. Ultimately, the Boxer has to realize only he can help himself.”
Even darker is the Boxer’s relationship with his mother (Clare Dunne), who we meet in flashbacks. We see several scenes where she forces her young son to box for money on the streets of Dublin, telling him, “You’re the man. You get to be the one that hurts or you get to be the one that makes other people hurt.” In early drafts of Justin Bull’s script, the story leaned more into horror, but Ellis pared back the flashbacks to keep the focus on Orlando Bloom’s raw performance. “We realized Orlando didn’t need anything else. His work sat front and center,” he says.
And then there’s Boz, played brilliantly by John Turturro, a manipulative trainer who mirrors the Boxer’s childhood trauma with his mom. “Originally Boz was written like a drill sergeant,” Ellis says, “But John looked at George C. Scott in The Hustler and brought something quieter, more dangerous. He turned up with his own outfits, fully formed. That’s his process. He builds the character in every phone call, every conversation.”
Beyond trauma, Ellis wanted to explore the metaphor of hunger, both physical and emotional. Caitlin, who hints at her own struggles with drug addiction, tells the Boxer he must learn to “live with the hunger.” For Ellis, this line creates a metaphor that goes beyond boxing.
“As humans, we shy away from pain. But the hardest thing is to just sit with it, without distraction. Addicts probably know that truth more than most, but in reality, we’re all addicted to something, our phones, relationships, alcohol. This story was a way of asking, ‘How do we live with hunger? How do we accept suffering as part of being alive?’” asks Ellis.
It’s a question that resonates with audiences because it transforms a sports movie into something universal. The opponent is not just the man across the ring, but the unresolved pain deep inside of us.
This movie is a great example of subverting cliches and not repeating the same story tropes we’ve seen before. Ellis offers this advice for writers who are trying to make a bold splash in a familiar genre: “You’ve got to watch everything, understand what’s gone before, and then figure out how to say something new. There are no shortcuts. It’s a technical art form. You’ve got to make people believe they’re not watching a film, that’s the magic trick.”
Ellis also encourages writers to trust in what he calls “The laws of creation.” He believes that once you commit to making something with all your heart, ideas and collaborators will begin to show up. “Everything wants to live. If you want something to exist, it will live. Connections appear, better solutions emerge. You just have to be open and listening,” he says.
The Cut is currently playing in theaters.