Kassim the Dream: Review By B. Alan Orange

Kief Davidson has constructed his new boxing doc*mentary Kassim the Dream like a fictional big budget Hollywood film, and it shouldn't be long before some young thespian locks himself into this very physical real-life role looking for Oscar Gold. Though it's hard to image that a dramatized version of these events could play with as much heart and conviction as the real thing. Davidson holds court with his subject matter at an intimate eye-level, giving us an in-depth look at middleweight boxing champ Kassim Ouma and his achievements. It doesn't hurt that Ouma's hard-earned bouts in the ring have been lovingly captured by a pay-per-view crew and are readily available for our viewing pleasure. This is the real deal. And any on-coming biopic substitution will certainly pale in comparison.

The film opens with the IBF Junior Middle-Weight Championship of the World, which finds Ouma going against Verno Phillips. As Kassim enters the ring, we learn a little bit about his harrowing human existence up until this point in time. We are deftly drug into Kassim's lurid past. Beautifully photographed, Ousma's vivid memories are offered up in a dream like state of guns and drifting violence. At age six, he was kidnapped and forced into Uganda's National Resistance Army. He is plagued by nightmares of dead bodies and a forgone childhood. With this thin, yet vividly detailed account of his young life, we quickly come to understand the importance behind this impending fight against Junior Middle-Weight Champion Phillips. When Kassim first enters the ring, he seems c*cky and a little too self-assured for his own good. As his childhood is revealed through old photographs and a disaffected voiceover, the fighter becomes less a brutal animal and more a man fighting to keep his soul in tact.

Kassim's career achievements are constantly interwoven with his former struggles. We quickly learn that his fighting prowess was an art taught on the battlefield. When not out killing people with a gun three times too big for his seven-year-old body, he was inside, training to become a boxer. He was deemed a champion at fifteen. After getting a Visa in 1988 on a military fighting contract, the young athlete deserted his Ugandan army to become a US citizen. He was told that if he ever returned to his country, he would be arrested. The penalty for deserting the National Resistance Army, at that time, was death. Because of this, Ouma could never see his family again. His personal story has more to do with legitimately returning to Ugunda to be reunited with his parents than it does his actual boxing career.

Early found footage and stock montages take us through Kassim's struggles in the US as a homeless teenager. It didn't take him long to find shelter inside a training center. There, he quickly caught the eyes of his peers. His rise through the ranks is revealed in a series of entertaining and provocative interviews. Kassim quickly became a star on the boxing circuit, and recruiters were certainly eager to ease him into the system. Around this time is when he met his manager, Tom Moran. Loving referred to as Uncle Tom, Moran proves to be a very colorful character on-screen. He has deemed himself a creative artist; one that dabbles in funny political paintings that revolve around a caricature of former President George Bush. Tom and Kassim are a tightly knit duo, as they spend quite a bit of time together. Moran always appears to have Kassim's best interests at heart, and their friendship is one of the lighter aspects of the film.

Davidson, a keen observer of this unique boxing biography, constantly goes back to Kassim's time spent in the army. And how it affected his relationship with his parents. It is something that forever overshadows his professional career as a fighter, and it brings with it a sad since of achievement. All of his televised matches seem to metaphorically detail his struggle to get back home and reconnect with those he left behind. Climbing up the boxing ladder, he uses his wins as a means to open up the Ugandan government to a pardon in his honor. He's eventually able to channel his fame and fortune into securing his own safety when returning to Uganda. He arrives there on a mission of peace, truly wanting to help the poverty stricken children throughout his hometown. Despite losing one of the biggest bouts of his career, Kassim finds solace in teaching the youth of his downtrodden homeland how to box.

A lot of drama is drawn from Kassim's eventual failures in the ring. And how it affects his return home for the first time in many years. We see Ouma live through the excesses of an extravagant life, and then we see the lesser benefits that lifestyle has in direct regards to the people he left behind in his youth. Though he keeps a permeniant smile on his face, there is always a deep sadness resting just behind his eyes. Even when he is pumping his fists in victory, or exuding enough bravado to fill an entire stadium full of people with hope, you can tell that his spirit is dampened by his turbulent past. Because of his desertion, the National Resistance Army tortured killed Kassim's father. Kassim, as a human being, doesn't come full circle until the end of the film. When he arrives in Ugunda and truly feels the affects of his absence for the first time.

Most boxing films end with a climactic fight. Kassim the Dream isn't about that. It's about a man reconnecting with a life he left behind and the childhood he never had. And how he comes to rectify the emotional turmoil brewing deep inside of his soul. This is one of the best sports doc*mentaries to come along in a long time, and it deserves a spot on this year's best doc*mentaries list. It gets a hearty whoop-doo!

(All of B. Alan Orange's reviews are based on the Boo! or Whoop-doo! evaluation system.)