Ali

Chilling Hannibal Lecktor debut Manhunter, cops-and-crime masterpiece Heat, true-story conspiracy-thriller The Insider... director Michael Mann knows how to make a good movie. So then, when news surfaced that he'd managed to wrestle (or box) a feature movie about arguably the world's most celebrated sporting icon away from rumoured choice Spike Lee, it had interests suitably-peaked...

His biopic focuses on the pivotal 10 years of Ali's (Will Smith) career between 1964 and 1974. In this time, he won the heavyweight championship from Sonny Liston, changed his name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali, converted to Islam, refused to drafted in the Vietnam War, had dealings with Malcolm X (Mario Van Peebles), befriended sportcaster Howard Cosell (Jon Voight) and fought the famous Rumble In The Jungle against George Foreman.

Shame, then, that the final product is so unshakably unsatisfying. For sure, it's Mann through and through with the super-crisp photography, unhurried feel and meticulous attention to detail, but Ali is unfortunately one of those films you admire rather than enjoy. Despite the interesting subject matter, it's very hard to get into and the plethora of events covered scratches the surface rather than managing to get under anyone's skin.

And here's where the problem lies. While you have to applaud the ambition of taking on all the subjects that come with the world's greatest - boxing, the nation of Islam, black rights, the media, religion, politics, women - it means none of them are properly developed. Overlong and uneven, the pacing feels languid as a result, while a multitude of subplots and relationships are so glazed over that anyone not familiar with Ali lore - intelligent or not - will end up lost.

Still, it's a Michael Mann picture and despite constantly falling flat dramatically (quite a black mark, granted), it's as visually-striking and stylish as you'd expect from the man who auteured perma '80s-window Miami Vice. There's more mis-fires than usual (the prolonged, when-is-this-going-to-finish Sam Cooke medley distracts from the opening), but also plenty to stimulate the primal senses. A beautifully photo-real shot of the champ jogging, the gladitorial entrance to the Foreman Rumble. Best of all though is moment Moby's calming Memory Gospel chimes in as the young contender first hits his stride against Liston... just sublime.

And then there's Will Smith. Although Mann keeps us at a distance and never allows us into Ali's head, Big Willie inhibits (not plays) the charismatic icon better than anyone else imaginably could. He's bulked up and learned to box, but it's the way he nails the speech patterns and body tics than sells the package. Elsewhere there's a range of talented support (Jamie Foxx, Jeffrey Wright, Van Peebles, Ron Silver, Mykelti Williamson), but they're all so underdeveloped that only Voight's unrecognisable Howard Cosell makes an impression. Never mind his wig.