Imagine stepping into the shoes of a legendary boxer, one who wasn't afraid to take punches and break barriers, only to face even tougher battles in life. Sydney Sweeney's portrayal of Christy Martin in the new biopic Christy pulls you right into that world, but here's the kicker: it's not just about the glory—it's about the grit, the pain, and the personal storms that rage outside the ring. And this is where it gets really intriguing: how does a Hollywood star like Sweeney navigate the same kind of controversies that haunted her character?
The film Christy, directed by David Michôd, dives deep into the life of Christy Martin, the pioneering boxer who brought women's boxing to the forefront in America during the mid-1990s. Much of the movie's runtime is dedicated to recreating her actual fights, and spoiler alert: she doesn't come out on top every time. I walked out of the screening in disbelief, questioning if I'd really just watched Sydney Sweeney—the actress known for her stellar performances, savvy business moves, and those viral moments that keep internet debates buzzing—getting pummeled repeatedly in the face. Sure enough, it was all her, up close and personal.
'Oh, absolutely, those fights were authentic,' Sweeney shares with a bright smile, at just 28 years old. 'Every single one you see on screen, we're really connecting with those hits.' She admits to dealing with concussions and bloody noses along the way. Was she scared of the concussions? 'Not at all—I adored it!' she exclaims. The actress who portrayed Laila Ali, Muhammad Ali's daughter who knocked Martin out in a 2003 match, is a real-deal professional boxer serving in the air force and competing for Team USA. 'She delivered some serious blows, and that's how I ended up with my concussion,' Sweeney recalls. Through it all, she felt like she'd truly transformed into a fighter, buzzing with excitement. Between scenes, she'd cheer, 'I think I just won that round!'
In the boxing sequences, Sweeney had a lot of freedom, with Michôd noting that the fights were mostly a collaboration between her and the stunt team. But when it came to building muscle and putting on weight—she packed on about two-and-a-half stone to hit Martin's fighting weight of 135 to 137 pounds—she had a fun partner in crime. On set, she generously shared her go-to high-calorie treat, Uncrustables—those iconic American frozen sandwiches, basically mini jam-filled snacks without the crusts, which she munched on non-stop—with co-star Ben Foster. He, in turn, fueled up on plenty of burritos to embody Martin's husband and promoter, Jim. It paid off. 'By the second week, Syd walked over and started poking at my double chin,' Foster remembers. 'She said, "That fake skin looks spot-on." And I replied, "Honey, that's all real." We both cracked up!' Foster mimics a victory pose as Sweeney laughs at the memory.
Foster and Sweeney are lounging in a hotel room with a view of the Thames, in London for Christy's premiere at the film festival. Sweeney has no issue with watching herself on screen, but Foster finds it tough: 'It hits a bit too close to home sometimes—I really admire Syd's vibe.' Just down the hall are two reflective, softly spoken Australians: Michôd, renowned for films like the dystopian The Rover and the Afghanistan-set War Machine, and his co-writer and long-time partner, Mirrah Foulkes.
While Sweeney's physical changes and boxing skills might grab the headlines for Christy, the film's true essence is a poignant exploration of an abusive relationship. Jim is a cunning manipulator who exploits his role as his wife's manager. For Michôd, the appeal lay in examining 'how these controlling relationships operate, like coercive control.' He admits he was once clueless about why someone wouldn't just walk away from such a situation.
The project started when Michôd's business partner mentioned that the rights to Martin's story were up for grabs. Michôd's first reaction? 'Who's Christy Martin?' After diving into her story through Laura Brownson's chilling Netflix doc Untold: Deal With the Devil, and meeting Martin herself, he saw her as a fascinating, multi-layered figure. 'This fierce, competitive, trash-talking champion was actually gentle, vulnerable, and wore her emotional wounds openly.'
The real Christy Martin, now using her maiden name Salters, played a big part in the film after initial hesitation. With a background in a cutthroat boxing world full of shady characters, 'she was wary of Hollywood's tricks,' Michôd explains. But he and Foulkes built her trust. Then came the hunt for the lead actress.
Choices were scarce. 'We needed someone with major star power for box-office draw,' Michôd says, pointing to Sweeney's 25 million Instagram followers and constant tabloid presence. 'Plus, the right age, build, and passion for the role.' How did he spot that fire in Sweeney? 'It's palpable. On a Zoom call, I sensed she craved this deeply.' He had a similar gut feeling casting Timothée Chalamet in The King back in 2019.
When Sweeney got the script, she was unfamiliar with Martin too ('I felt a bit embarrassed—she's one of the most incredible women I've encountered'). But she quickly connected. 'In many ways, I related to her: the inner battles, the outer struggles, being misunderstood, complex personal ties, growing up female, forging your own path, and discovering your true self.'
Sweeney masterfully captures Christy's complexities. Early on, she's a tough yet endearing small-town girl from West Virginia, rocking a mullet, loving basketball, and unapologetically gay. She uncovers her boxing talent, weds Jim despite her reservations, and climbs to the pinnacle of the sport. Eventually, she signs with promoter Don King, hits the celebrity circuit, graces Sports Illustrated's cover ('The Lady Is a Champ'), and single-handedly popularizes women's boxing. You root for her throughout, but her public face turns problematic. She retreats into the closet, insults other fighters with slurs like 'dykes,' and pretends to be a traditional housewife on TV, refusing to support fellow female athletes.
Sweeney herself has weathered media storms, like the recent backlash over her American Eagle jeans ad, where some saw the slogan as hinting at white supremacy. In 2022, photos from her mom's 60th birthday with guests in MAGA hats sparked outrage. How does she handle it? 'What's fascinating is, I'm just being me. But others project their views onto me, and that's beyond my control. You'll write this piece, readers will interpret it differently. I strive to stay authentic, yet it's filtered through others' perspectives.'
Yet Christy isn't truly herself. Foulkes attributes her harsh, backward persona to 'toxic boxing influences and deep self-hatred, turning her cruel.' Sweeney offers a different take. 'I don't see her as anti-feminist; she wasn't a symbol for a cause. She pursued her passion. Becoming a role model for others wasn't her aim.' On her solo stance in boxing, Sweeney explains, 'It's an individual sport, not team-based, so there's no group camaraderie like in other games.' Her certainty shines through in every word.
Sweeney hasn't laced up gloves since Christy wrapped. Just seven weeks later, she jumped into shooting the final season of HBO's Euphoria, reprising Cassie—one of her Emmy-nominated roles that made her a household name, alongside Olivia in The White Lotus's first season. 'I had to shed all that weight fast.' As Christy, she felt 'like the strongest, most vibrant me ever.' Was shedding the bulk tough? 'Mentally challenging, and physically, it was like withdrawing from the endorphins of intense workouts—a strange serotonin dip.'
Christy swings wildly in tone, from an uplifting sports drama to a nightmarish thriller as Jim's abuse spirals into shocking extremes. How did Foster, delivering a bone-chilling performance, embody such a despicable character?
Jim's controlling nature 'is hard to sympathize with on paper,' Foster notes. 'But think about it: bullies everywhere try to dominate individuals or even societies, showing how insecure and fragile they are.' Foster sees Jim's escalating control as self-protection. Michôd identifies 'buried trauma in many such men.' Foulkes stresses 'humanizing Jim without excusing his evils, and Ben's nuanced acting adds charm, fragility, and brief glimpses of humanity.'
Foster struggled to leave Jim behind after shooting days, but Sweeney flips the switch easily. 'I can detach from the dark themes once filming ends,' she says, though she connected emotionally. When buzz about Oscars comes up, she brushes it off. 'I'm thrilled people are talking like that, but I did this for Christy. As long as she's pleased and her story reaches audiences, that's what counts.'
But here's where it gets controversial: Sweeney's take on Christy's rejection of feminist ideals mirrors real debates about personal ambition versus collective support in sports and beyond. Is it empowering to chase your dreams solo, or does it undermine solidarity? And this is the part most people miss—how Sweeney's own public feuds echo her character's internal conflicts. Do we judge stars too harshly for perceived associations, or should we focus on their art? What do you think—does Sweeney's approach to staying true to herself resonate, or does it invite more scrutiny? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear agreements, disagreements, or fresh perspectives!
