The Biopic ‘Giant’ is Too Small to Capture ‘Prince’ Naseem Hamed’s Life & Boxing Career

Former world featherweight champion “Prince” Naseem Hamed flew like a comet over the boxing world from 1992 to 2002. Hamed was a true enigma. His skill set was electrifying. He had speed, power, footwork, and flash. He was also an egomaniac with the kind of bad habits (Hamed hated to train and fought with his hands by his side) that sink most fighters. Those tendencies did eventually catch up with Hamed, but for one magnificent decade, he was one of the most marketable athletes in all of sports.

Writer/Director Rowan Athale’s Giant takes on Hamed’s story, and it is one ripe for the telling. Hamed’s relationship with his first trainer, Brendan Ingle, has a terrific mentor-to-adversary arc. Ingle, an Irishman residing in Sheffield, England, where he runs his own boxing gym, is played by Pierce Brosnan, who is in fine form here. Unlike his scenery-chewing performance in Paramount’s Mobland, Brosnan leaves room for other actors to make an impact without having to shout over him.

Ingle was an unconventional trainer of both amateurs and professionals. Aside from Hamed, he trained four other world champion fighters, most notably, Kell Brook, who is depicted late in the film as a boy who walks into Ingle’s gym and expresses a desire to learn at the knee of Naseem Hamed’s trainer. But it is Hamed to whom Ingle will always remain most closely tied.

The early portion of the movie, dealing with Ingle’s discovery of the 12-year-old Hamed, is the strongest. Young Ali Saleh is terrific as the precocious and preternaturally gifted Hamed, whose skills translate into dominance in the ring. For a while, much is made of Hamed’s immigrant background. Despite being of Yemeni descent, Hamed is often derogatorily referred to as a “Paki,” a racist term used to refer to Pakistani immigrants who came over to England in great numbers during the ‘60s and ‘70s. Despite Ingle and Hamed consistently correcting the slur by pointing out that the young fighter in training is an Arab, the term “Paki,” which became a catch-all for all South Asian immigrants, sticks. “A spade is a spade,” one less-than-savory boxing lifer says in the film.

Out of this virulently racist environment, Hamed sprang forth and became the most significant athlete in England for a decade. The hardcore or casual boxing fan could not deny his remarkable physical talent and charisma. That an unwanted young man, who became the figure who reinvigorated boxing in the United Kingdom, came from such humble and disenfranchised beginnings is truly remarkable. But then, white audiences have always loved people of color, as long as they perform for them.

Unfortunately, the powerful themes of Hamed’s immigrant status are largely left behind once the film leaps forward to the fighter’s adulthood. After the jump, Hamed is played by Amir El-Masry, who more than capably captures Hamed’s bravado and athleticism, but the script doesn’t offer him the opportunity to explain what made the fighter tick. Curiously, Athale’s film focuses far more on Ingle than Hamed. However strong Brosnan’s performance may be, the lack of balance makes the film’s raison d’être (Naseem Hamed) feel like almost an afterthought. Brosnan’s dominance gives the more-than-willing and able El-Masry too little to do. How did this cheeky young boy become so impossibly full of himself? It’s a question the film doesn’t adequately answer.

Over time, a rift began to develop between Ingle and Hamed, but the true source of Hamed’s disenchantment is missing from the film. The development of the wedge that Hamed’s ego creates is given short shrift. The depiction of the deterioration in Hamed and Ingle’s relationship feels like it’s missing three to four scenes (the film’s 100-minute run time feels slight) to connect the viewer to the origins of their discontent. All we see is Hamed continually humiliating Ingle by either diminishing his contributions or ignoring them altogether. But how did we get there? The film doesn’t take the time to illuminate the issues that separated them.

Giant tries to paper over this flaw by depicting Hamed’s brother and financial advisor, Riath (Arian Vik), as the poison being whispered in Hamed’s ear, but the character is so underwritten that Riath plays as a cartoonish villain when the reality of the situation was surely more complex. As well, a confrontation scene between Ingle and Hamed just before the end credits attempts to fill in the blanks of their split all at once. Without putting in the necessary roadwork before the showdown, the scene is both too much and not enough.

There are also signs of budgetary constraints that negatively impacted the film. Hamed’s two most important fights (his victory over featherweight champion Kevin Kelley and his loss to Marco Antonio Barrera) get less than four minutes of actual screen time. No victory in Hamed’s history is more significant than his win over Kelley. Both fighters were at their peaks when they entered the ring, and the bout was a wild affair in which each boxer hit the canvas three times, with Hamed winning by a fourth-round knockout. Their tilt should have been the centerpiece of Hamed’s fighting career, but the brevity of the sequence diminishes the impact of the outcome.

Likewise, Hamed’s fight against the legendary Mexican champion Barrera, in which Hamed was dominated, fails to impress upon the viewer the depth of the downfall. The coverage of these two seminal fights in Hamed’s career represents a fatal flaw in this otherwise competently made film. One thing a boxing film must have is compelling fight scenes. Giant is found wanting in that respect.

Naseem Hamed was the whole package as a fighter. Extraordinarily talented, handsome, and possessing a swagger on par with the equally polarizing Hector “Macho” Camacho. But for all that Hamed accomplished, there are holes in his resume. He never fought Erik Morales or Manny Pacquiao, who, along with Hamed and Barrera, were the great “little men” of the era.

Hamed beat some very good fighters, including Kelley, Manuel Medina, Wilfredo Vázquez, Wayne McCullough, Vuyani Bungu, and César Soto, but only Medina is in the International Boxing Hall of Fame (although Vázquez and Kelley have reasonable arguments for induction). After losing to Barrera, Hamed fought just once more, winning a unanimous decision over Manuel Calvo in a slog of a fight.

Then, at just 28, Hamed retired. Due to his early departure from the sport and the solid (but not extraordinary) opposition he defeated, Hamed’s legacy is hard to calculate. He possessed a massive ego that fueled his self-belief but eventually led to too much confidence and not enough work. It’s extraordinary that, however high on his own supply and undisciplined Hamed was, for a long time, he backed it up in the ring.

Naseem Hamed was a famous and accomplished fighter, though not quite as accomplished as his remarkable talent suggests he should have been. His fighting career was stocked with highlights, but was ultimately too brief and too thin to feel complete. The same could be said for this competent, but ultimately under-rewarding film.

Giant is available to rent now on Amazon and Apple TV.

David Phillips

David Phillips has been writing on boxing for just over a decade for The Sweet Science and NY Fights. He runs his own blog dedicated to the appreciation of classic and overlooked films, reelreframe.com, and writes on film and television for Awards Daily. His essay “My Black Grandpa” was shortlisted as “Best of Folklore” by The Bitter Southerner in 2018. Author of Goodnight to the Peoples. You can follow David on Twitter @BrotherJulius83

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