There was always a looming question hanging over Creed III before its release. Could a film in the Rocky franchise truly survive without its most iconic figure? For nearly five decades the emotional backbone of this universe has been Sylvester Stallone’s underdog boxer from Philadelphia. Removing him from the equation felt risky. Yet Creed III answers that question with surprising confidence. The world wondered whether this franchise could survive without Rocky Balboa. The answer, somewhat unexpectedly, is yes.
Michael B. Jordan steps behind the camera for the first time here while once again stepping into the gloves of Adonis Creed. The result is a film that is simultaneously familiar and refreshingly bold. It follows many of the structural rhythms we associate with sports dramas. The rise, the doubt, the training, the confrontation. Yet Jordan clearly wants to reshape the visual language of the franchise, particularly when the fighters step into the ring.
Whenever we are in the ring it is all great. Michael B. Jordan as a director absolutely kills it. The fights are staged with a sense of dynamism and visual imagination that feels genuinely new for the series. But everywhere else things are just too underwhelming and melodramatic. The contrast between these two modes becomes the defining push and pull of the film.
The story finds Adonis at a moment of stability. He has dominated the boxing world, built a comfortable life, and begun focusing on family and legacy. Then a ghost from his past returns in the form of Damian Anderson, played with ferocious intensity by Jonathan Majors. A childhood friend and former prodigy whose life took a very different path, Damian emerges with the simmering resentment of someone who believes the world owes him something.
The smartest move in the film is the way it reframes the traditional dynamic of the franchise. For decades we watched Rocky Balboa as the scrappy underdog. Here the roles are subtly inverted. Adonis is no longer the hungry outsider chasing respect. In many ways he resembles Apollo Creed, the established champion with everything to lose. Meanwhile Damian carries the emotional energy of a Rocky type figure, the wounded underdog clawing his way toward recognition. It is an inversion that keeps the story surprisingly fresh.
Jonathan Majors is an absolute force. His Damian is not just a physical threat but a psychological one. Majors carries himself with the tense energy of a man who has been waiting years for the moment when the world finally looks at him again. His performance gives the film its emotional gravity, often outshining the material around him.
Still, the film cannot entirely escape the formula it inherits. Outside the ring the narrative leans heavily into familiar melodrama. Conversations circle the same emotional beats again and again, and some character relationships feel frustratingly underdeveloped. Adonis’ relationship with his daughter, which could have added an interesting emotional layer, remains largely underexplored.
There is also a slightly awkward dance around the absence of Rocky himself. The film never quite addresses it head on, which creates the occasional sense of narrative emptiness. Considering how central that relationship was to the previous films, its absence is sometimes hard to ignore.
And then there is Little Duke, Adonis’ loyal coach. I love the character, but at some point someone needs to tell him to stop motivating Adonis by dishing out a haiku every single time. The speeches start to sound less like boxing wisdom and more like a motivational poetry reading.
Yet every time the gloves come on, the movie roars back to life.
Jordan clearly studied the visual language of combat sports cinema and then decided to push it further. When he mentioned in interviews that anime inspired the fights, I admit I was a little incredulous. But seeing it in action? Holy shit. The choreography, the framing, the movement of the camera, all combine to create something that feels almost surreal while remaining grounded in physical brutality.
These sequences are easily the best fight scenes in the entire franchise and possibly among the most thrilling ever staged in a professional fighting film. The final bout in particular pushes the aesthetic ambition even further, transforming the boxing ring into an emotional battlefield where memory, anger, and guilt collide. It is the kind of stylistic swing that could have failed spectacularly. Instead it lands with exhilarating confidence.
It has been a week since I watched the film and I am still thinking about that final fight.
The emotional themes of the film revolve around guilt, ambition, and the complicated weight of shared history. Adonis and Damian are not simply opponents but reflections of paths taken and paths lost. That underlying tension gives their confrontation a deeper resonance than the typical sports rivalry.
At the same time, Creed III does occasionally feel like a paint by numbers sports drama. The structure rarely surprises, and the emotional beats sometimes arrive exactly when you expect them. But when a film executes its formula with this much visual flair and performance energy, it becomes easy to forgive.
Ultimately Creed III stands as a confident directorial debut from Michael B. Jordan. It may stumble outside the ropes, but inside the ring it delivers some of the most exhilarating boxing ever put on screen.
And in proving that this franchise can thrive without Rocky Balboa, it also lands one final punch that echoes long after the bell rings.
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