At first blush, Rachel Morrison landed the perfect project for her directorial debut. The cinematographer known for her work with Ryan Coogler (“Fruitvale Station” and “Black Panther”) and Dee Rees—she became the first woman nominated for Best Cinematography for her work on Rees’ “Mudbound”—landed a script written by “Moonlight” director Barry Jenkins about the real-life inspirational story of gold medal winning boxer Claressa “T-Rex” Shields.
But since the film’s 2019 announcement, it’s hit several snags: a global pandemic suspending production, her lead Ice Cube suddenly dropping out, and an actors and writers strike that further pushed back the film’s release until its premiere at Toronto International Film Festival 2024.
Morrison’s “The Fire Inside” couldn’t be extinguished. The film upends the conventions of the sports movie by not building toward an Olympic gold medal but toward what life looks like after you accomplish your dream. Claressa (Ryan Destiny) hails from the disadvantaged surroundings of Flint, Michigan. Her mother is emotionally abusive, and her family is impoverished. But Claressa loves boxing. And despite the qualms of local boxing coach Jason Crutchfield (Brian Tyree Henry) that girls shouldn’t participate in the violent sport, her dedication ultimately convinces Jason to take her on. The sensitive Jason and the undaunted Claressa become a near-unbeatable team, climbing their way to the pinnacle of the sport only to discover that there’s plenty of road ahead after the peak.
“The Fire Inside” combines Morrison’s knack for poignant visual storytelling with Jenkins’ surprising script to tell a story that doesn’t rely on simple cliches or wallow in poverty porn. Because there are no obvious villains in this tender film. Instead, they’re flawed people navigating the difficult realities of urban divestment, systemic racism, and misogynoir. While this film grapples with real-world issues, it remains inspirational and heartwarming. It’s the kind of highly rewatchable and uplifting film that feels like a classic in a genre defined by its classical structure.
Morrison spoke with RogerEbert.com in person at SCAD Savannah Film Festival about the resiliency of Claressa’s story, working with Brian Tyree Henry and overcoming myriad production setbacks to bring this stirring dream to theaters.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
Have you always wanted to move toward directing, or did this opportunity come as a surprise?
RACHEL MORRISON: I love shooting. I still love shooting. I think the idea started to percolate when people like [Ryan] Coogler said, You’ve got to tell these stories. You’ve got to direct. When people you respect feel they have a clear vision for you to direct, they may be onto something. Also, even after “Black Panther,” I wasn’t reading scripts that felt like they were moving the needle forward. I didn’t want to go backward. I think some of that is because I reached the target too late.
My whole childhood, I wanted to make big dramas. But the hundred-million-dollar dramas don’t exist anymore. And so I was like: Well, I can either get paid to make Marvel films—most are not “Black Panther”—or I can make tiny dramas and barely support my family. I love those really beautiful indies. But as a breadwinner for four, surviving on those is really hard. And often, those are with up-and-coming filmmakers. You do get to a point where you’re like: Wait a second, I don’t want to know more than the other people in the room.
That said, I was reading scripts with a job-agnostic mindset. If I read something that I thought was additive in the world, and for me as a filmmaker to shoot, I would shoot it. If I read something that I felt was additive and made sense for me as a director, I would direct it. The first thing that felt right was the script that Barry [Jenkins] and producer Elishia Holmes brought to me. And again, if they are convinced I’m the right person for it, they may be onto something.
You mentioned you were looking for a script to move the needle forward. What stuck out to you about Jenkins’ script?
The first thing that stuck out was the breaking of convention. Structurally it’s ballsy as crap. It’s scary to upend the movie in the third act, especially because the conventions of sports movies work for a reason. To not end at the top seemed daring and exciting, like real life. I do think that’s something that resonates. Like the day after the Oscars, I still had to get up and start again. I think everybody has those moments.
I also grew up playing sports, so I was definitely attracted to that. The years my team won the league championship, the next season, we had to start from zero again. To me, that is so much more interesting. Then, in the case of Claressa, there’s also her resiliency outside the ring. I mean inside, too, of course. But the resiliency outside the ring is almost more inspirational and relatable. We all get knocked back down and have to pick ourselves back up. It all just felt more like life than most scripts I read.
I love the opening shot of this film; it’s an unbroken aerial view where we see a young Claressa running through the empty lots that dot her Flint neighborhood to watch boxing at the local gym. That view tells us everything about her socioeconomic standing and the financial constraints of the people who populate this area. Was that visual approach in the script or a shot that happened naturally?
Interestingly, I always thought I would leave space for the opening credits. But I found that it was so powerful as a shot, and there was so much information to take in that the credits detracted from it. And then we asked that our titles move to the back so that you have this space to do exactly what you said: process the environment. Flint is such a specific and special place, and most people don’t understand it. They just have a peripheral idea of Flint and the water crisis. They don’t actually know why Flint is, what Flint is.
We did an aerial shot that started, I think, 400 feet up, and you see no other people. There are very few other cars. There is this empty vastness about it. You get this sense of the American dream versus the American reality, which is what the film is about. You also get grit and resilience at that young age. To be running that far of a distance, chasing this thing she loves, communicates so much and sets the tone for this film.
I read that you and Ryan took boxing lessons together. In what ways did that real-world experience contribute to the visual language of the film inside the ring?
I think it was so critical. I’m so happy about that. I also loved boxing so much that I stuck with it. But it helped with even more than the visual language. Understanding what it feels like to be hit or to hit informed everything, from how we shot the film to even the sound design. Because I’ve now lived it, so everything came from a much more experiential place. And then, as far as working with Ryan in the ring, we ended up choreographing a lot of it ourselves for one reason or another, let’s just put it that way. To communicate certain things emotionally, knowing how to translate that ourselves, how we’re gonna sell certain punches, we could choreograph it to the camera as it pertains to the emotional stakes of the narrative.
So much of the film remains within the ring; you don’t cut outside to announcers as much as one would expect. Why did you want to remain within the physical world of the ring?
I think there are two reasons why I felt like that subjectivity was so important. For one thing, her points don’t matter in this film. It becomes all about the antagonist in most boxing and sports movies. Every “Rocky,” every “Creed,” you’re building up to the arch nemesis. In our case, you have that a tiny bit with her rival Savannah, but then, in real life, Savannah wasn’t the person who made it to the gold medal fight, so she loses all significance. You don’t care about the opponents in the other fights, either. It’s less about the exterior world and more about Claressa’s interior.
Everything is more powerful when you can be subjectively tied to your main character. It helps put the audience in their shoes. And then that helps every blow feel harder. Every hit matters more. In all my work as a DP, I care about the point of view, the story we’re telling and why we should care.
You do such incredible work with both Brian Tyree Henry and Ryan Destiny. Since DPs work with actors as much as the director does, did your background as a cinematographer make the communication with actors easier to transition into?
I think it’s not even so much that I’m a DP, as I’m a DP-operator. I’ve spent 20 years in the ring, so to speak, with my actors. I’m usually the closest person to them. I feel like I’ve seen what works in terms of how other directors have communicated with them, what doesn’t work, and how DPs communicate with them and what doesn’t work. I tried to let that inform how I would work with my talent. I mean, I had such a great time. You could not have asked for a better first two-hander than Brian and Ryan. There was natural chemistry between them and then the trio of us. I trusted them, and they trusted me, and we would try things. It was beautiful.
You’re also wonderful at visually helping actors. There are so many lingering moments, especially with Henry, where the patience of your lensing just allows him to land the emotional resonance of a scene.
The film is pretty true to the vision I always had for it. The fight scene that’s a oner I always knew would be a oner. And then, in terms of the performances, I find as an audience member that I never want to be reminded that I’m in a movie theater, whether that’s a cut or that’s being over-stylized with the camera or anything that feels self-aware. When I can stay in a performance, it allows me to feel like I’m either on the receiving end of a conversation or a fight or I’m on the giving end. It just allows me to live it a little bit more. It’s a testament to the actors that we don’t need to cut around anything. It’s a total wealth of riches in the edit.
Also Brian has so much humanity, and his performances also feel so surprising. He’s never making the obvious choice. What conversations did you two have to build out this father figure/coaching character?
I mean, the first conversation we had was that he was really moved and excited because basically, as he said, he doesn’t get to see black men play good fathers, good coaches, and good people. The humanity Brian brought was everything. Life is imperfect. That’s what makes it beautiful. And each of these characters is flawed. It’s so important to me as a director and to Brian as a performer that there’s humanity. It’s not these aspirational, everybody’s perfect superheroes. In this movie, though, everybody is incredibly well-intentioned.
With Brian, it was a discovery every day. And to your point, he would add these small nuances that were just everything. And the other gift he gives to actors and directors alike is elevating the room. The other performers, when you have a lot of secondary and tertiary characters who, in our case, are local Toronto casting, maybe aren’t as experienced as our leads, to have an actor who can bring the chorus up a notch is a real gift as well.
And staying on shooting, I’m sure when people see the credits, they’ll be surprised that you aren’t the cinematographer. Instead, you brought on Rina Yang, who did exceptional work on “Nanny” and is also known for lensing Taylor Swift’s music videos. Why bring on a DP, and specifically Rina?
It was a hard decision and a hard thing to give up. If I had started with something incredibly naturalistic like “Nomadland,” I would’ve shot it. If I had started with something really small, I would’ve shot it. I always thought I would start with a tiny indie with a lot of natural light. Instead, I started with a studio film that featured these Olympic scenes. I knew I wanted to be present for the performances and all of the other things that impact the direction of a film. I also thought it would be a good challenge to take off the DP hat and force myself to focus on everything else.
Why Rina? That had to do with something I learned from Coogler: to surround yourself with people who do things a little differently than you do and then let that spark a conversation and a dialogue to keep things alive and kinetic. I was torn because there was a moment when I was going to hire a DP who was effectively me as a DP. But I ultimately went with Rina because what she does in the commercial music video space is much more heightened, whereas I tend to keep a foot on the ground. So, in the context of a studio film, I thought about how we could not have it feel super indie—which is where I naturally go. How do we find the right balance between naturalism and something with a little more flair but not to the point of crossing into stylized? So, I really wanted to keep a foot on the ground but allow myself to elevate things slightly differently than I might on my own.
It must have been great to be able to turn to someone on set like Rina, who probably also speaks a kind of common filmic language.
Both of us would say it was a great shorthand. I could location scout with her in mind. Now, when I think back to prep, I realize we had so many crazy fires. She got stuck in Buffalo because she had a visa issue from a shoot she’d done in Canada. So basically, the first three weeks of prep, she wasn’t on the ground with me. For me to be able to scout with her needs in mind or the fact that she understands what I’m asking about when I ask for this shot versus that shot or how long it will take with lighting was helpful for me to shoot and direct very efficiently.
The other nice thing about working with Rina is that she’s not as committed to operating as I am. She’d rather be riding with the DIT (digital imaging technician)—which left room for me to operate. I operated on my own film without stepping on her toes. Which means I still got to be in my happy place.
You talked about fires occurring. This film has had such a long path. I remember hearing about this film back in 2019, and every few months, I would check to see what was happening with it.
I was a spring chicken when I started this film!
You’ve had to deal with a pandemic, an actor dropping out, a couple of strikes. What was that gauntlet like?
From an observational perspective, the story of making this film truly mirrors the story of the film itself. It was a massive fight to be seen and valued, very much like Claressa fought to be seen and valued herself. Her resilience inspired both Ryan and I not to waver and just to keep pushing the boulder up the mountain. With that spirit, we somehow managed to survive and flourish.
Was there a moment when you thought this might be dead?
I mean, the crazy thing is no. That’s a testament to my own stupidity. I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I was like: Oh, well, I’ll just get it up somewhere else, or we’ll just pass this to another actor. To be fair, the actor we did land on, Brian, was my dream from the beginning. In some ways, he both aged into the role and his Hollywood value matured into the role. There’s a case to be made that everything happens for a reason. I’m trying to figure out how to put this in a politically correct way… Let’s just say Brian is a gift.
Also, Ryan got to train twice, once before the pandemic and another time after. That was everything. Emotionally and physically, she was ten times more ready to make this movie two years later than she was if we had made it in 2020. We really benefited from that time.
Even the crazy delay in this film coming out, even that now feels like maybe it was meant to be. This is the year of parity in women’s sports. My actors also got to promote the film at TIFF, which they wouldn’t have been able to do the year before. And I can’t think of a better release date for us, specifically, an inspirational sports movie, like Christmas. I think “The Boys in the Boat” had already planted a flag in that slot last year, so we somehow landed where we needed to be. I’m a little more wrinkled and worse for the wear, but I’m really happy that the film is getting the release I think it deserves.
