The Comforting Clichés of 'Beast': Why Australia’s First MMA Film Feels Like a Guilty Pleasure
There’s something oddly satisfying about a film that doesn’t try to be more than it is. Beast, Australia’s first foray into the world of mixed martial arts cinema, is exactly that—a cheesy, predictable sports drama that somehow manages to be comforting in its familiarity. Personally, I think this is where the film’s charm lies: it doesn’t pretend to be groundbreaking. Instead, it leans into the clichés we’ve come to expect from the genre, and in doing so, it becomes a kind of cinematic comfort food.
A Nation’s Sporting Obsession—But Where Are the Films?
Australia’s love for sport is undeniable, yet its cinematic representation of athletics remains surprisingly sparse. Sure, we’ve had gems like The Club (1980) and The Coolangatta Gold (1984), but these are exceptions rather than the rule. What makes this particularly fascinating is the contrast between Australia’s sporting culture and its film industry. Why hasn’t a nation so obsessed with sport produced more movies about it? Beast feels like a tentative step in that direction, even if it’s not the masterpiece we might have hoped for.
The Plot: Familiar Yet Compelling
At its core, Beast is a classic underdog story. Patton James (Daniel MacPherson), a retired fighter, is forced back into the ring to save his family from financial ruin. His daughter needs expensive medical care, his wife (Kelly Gale) is pregnant, and his job on a fishing boat barely pays the bills. When the chance to earn $150,000 by fighting his former rival, Xavier Grau (Bren Foster), arises, Patton can’t resist.
One thing that immediately stands out is how the film leans into its predictability. We know Patton will face obstacles, train hard, and ultimately triumph. But what many people don’t realize is that this predictability is part of the appeal. There’s a certain pleasure in watching a story unfold exactly as you expect, especially when it’s executed with a sense of earnestness.
Russell Crowe: A Familiar Face in a Familiar Role
Russell Crowe plays Sammy, Patton’s gruff but lovable trainer. While Crowe is a fine actor, his role here feels more like a retread of characters we’ve seen him play before. Personally, I think this is where the film misses an opportunity. Crowe’s presence could have elevated Beast into something more nuanced, but instead, it feels like he’s coasting on autopilot.
That said, there’s something comforting about seeing a seasoned actor in a role that doesn’t demand too much of him. It’s like watching an old friend go through the motions—you know what you’re getting, and there’s a strange reassurance in that.
The Technical Shortcomings: Why They Matter Less Than You Think
Director Tyler Atkins’s Beast is far from a technical masterpiece. The cinematography is bland, the accents are unconvincing, and the screenplay feels like it was written by someone trying too hard to be ‘Aussie.’ But here’s the thing: none of this really matters.
If you take a step back and think about it, the film’s shortcomings are almost part of its charm. It’s like a homemade meal that’s a little burnt around the edges—it’s not perfect, but it’s made with heart. And in a world of polished, high-budget blockbusters, there’s something refreshing about a film that doesn’t try to hide its flaws.
The Unintentional Humor: A Silver Lining
Some of the dialogue in Beast is so over-the-top it’s hilarious. Take Sammy’s line about ‘moments and memories’—it’s the kind of thing that would feel at home in a parody, not a serious drama. But this unintentional humor adds a layer of enjoyment to the film. It’s like the filmmakers accidentally stumbled into comedy, and it works.
What this really suggests is that Beast isn’t just a sports drama—it’s a cultural artifact. It’s a snapshot of Australian cinema at a particular moment, with all its quirks and imperfections on full display.
The Broader Implications: Why Beast Matters
While Beast may not be a cinematic masterpiece, it’s an important step for Australian filmmaking. It’s the first film to explore the world of MMA, a sport that’s gained massive popularity globally. This raises a deeper question: why has it taken so long for Australian cinema to tackle this subject?
From my perspective, Beast is a reflection of the industry’s reluctance to take risks. It plays it safe, relying on familiar tropes and formulas. But it also shows that there’s an appetite for these stories—even if they’re not perfect, audiences are willing to engage with them.
Final Thoughts: A Guilty Pleasure Worth Watching
Beast is far from perfect. Its technical flaws, predictable plot, and unconvincing performances make it a film that’s easy to critique. But that’s not the point. The point is that it’s watchable, and sometimes, that’s enough.
In my opinion, Beast is the kind of film you put on when you want to switch off and enjoy something uncomplicated. It’s cheesy, it’s cliché, but it’s also oddly comforting. And in a world that often feels chaotic, there’s something to be said for a film that simply lets you relax and enjoy the ride.
So, if you’re a fan of Aussie cheese or just in the mood for a feel-good sports drama, give Beast a chance. It might not change your life, but it just might leave you with a smile.
