Clareesa Shields’ story begins in Flint, Michigan, a city grappling with its own crisis, mirroring the larger systemic issues the young Black woman would face on her path to becoming the first American to win back-to-back Olympic gold medals in boxing. Even this extraordinary achievement couldn’t guarantee equal treatment. The new film, *The Fire Inside*, poignantly depicts Shields’ post-Olympic struggles, showcasing her sorrow as she buys diapers for her nephew while surrounded by cereal boxes featuring Michael Phelps. This scene encapsulates the stark disparity she faced in securing sponsorships, a disparity attributed by a potential sponsor to the inherent challenges faced by women athletes, amplified further in a sport not typically associated with women.
This inequality reflects a broader reality for Black women in sports, a theme subtly yet powerfully woven throughout the film, the directorial debut of Rachel Morrison and scripted by Barry Jenkins. While the Flint water crisis isn’t explicitly mentioned, its shadow hangs heavy over the narrative, alongside the systemic barriers Shields confronts. Her coach, Jason (Brian Tyree Henry), subtly connects her resilience to the city itself: “You ever wonder why they call it Flint? …It’s a tough stone, Flint, and it’s strong as hell. That remind you of anybody?” The film portrays Shields’ life as a struggle against poverty, abuse, and homelessness, with boxing serving as her only refuge. However, even her boxing success brought new challenges.
The film’s third act focuses on Shields’ financial struggles despite her 2012 Olympic gold medal victory. This highlights the broader issue of pay inequality in women’s sports, an issue Shields herself addressed in a 2023 interview, revealing that her million-dollar earnings—a record for a female boxer—were still only a third of what male boxers typically earn. *The Fire Inside* depicts her fight for a $3,000 monthly stipend, an increase from the meager $1,000 offered by USA Boxing. Her plea, “This isn’t just about me,” underscores her fight for all female athletes.
The film also explores the pressure on representation and image. Shields’ frustration with the expectation of maintaining a pristine image, contrasting with the provocative portrayal of another female boxer, speaks to the challenges faced by Black women athletes in navigating mainstream expectations. “I won that gold medal by being me,” she asserts, “Now to get endorsements and sh*t you saying I got to be somebody else?!”
Ironically, even in the telling of her story, the pressure to make her more palatable to mainstream audiences persists. The film surprisingly underplays Shields’ athleticism, portraying her as a bloodless fighter, minimizing the visceral nature of her boxing matches. Instead, it heavily emphasizes the familiar tropes of an athlete’s humble beginnings and the burdens of adversity, potentially overshadowing her athletic prowess. While touching on deeper complexities like her reconciliation with her mother and her father’s return from jail, these moments lack exploration, suggesting a reluctance to move beyond familiar narratives.
The original title, *Flint Strong*, arguably captures a reductive view of Shields’ legacy, focusing on trauma instead of her vibrancy and nuance. While the film undeniably showcases hardship, the loving father-daughter dynamic between Jason and Shields provides a counterpoint, offering moments of warmth and strength. Their bond consistently fuels her perseverance.
The film concludes with a poignant conversation between Jason and Shields as she departs for Olympic training. “That first gold medal, that was for Flint,” Jason tells her, “But your next one, that one’s for you.” This leaves the audience questioning whether individual excellence will ever truly be enough in a system still grappling with equity.