One thing elevates Resurrecting the Champ above your typical Movie-of the-Week melodrama: Samuel L. Jackson. Without the usual solid effort of one of Hollywood's best, this film was certain to sink to the depths of something more likely to be seen on the Lifetime Network than the silver screen. Full of more psychological angst than an episode of Dr. Phil, Resurrecting the Champ falls short of a knock-out. Thanks to a few intriguing elements and the aforementioned Jackson, a check of the scorecard reveals a split decision.

"A writer, like a boxer, must stand alone. The truth is revealed, and there's nowhere to hide," writes sportswriter Erik Kernan (Josh Hartnett). Kernan is a solid newspaper sportswriter. His editor calls him "a machine." Unfortunately, he writes with all the personality of a machine and, with his job on the line, he needs to do something spectacular. Enter Jackson as a homeless man who calls himself "The Champ." He claims to be Bob Satterfield, a solid heavyweight contender in the 1950s. He even claims to have broken Rocky Marciano's nose back in the day. Smelling an opportunity for a feel-good human interest story, Kernan jumps at the chance to document his story in print, much to the accolades of both his advocates and his doubters. One problem: apparently forgetting Journalism 101, Kernan does not verify the facts. Seems like "The Champ" is not exactly who he claims to be. What ensues is a conflict of truth, honesty, integrity, and the consequences of neglecting those virtues.

While appearing to be polar opposites, it becomes apparent that Kernan and "The Champ" have a lot in common: both carry tremendous emotional baggage from their relationships with their fathers. Both are estranged from their families (Kernan and his wife are separated but, oddly, you would not know it from how their relationship is portrayed—they seem perfectly happy in their scenes together). Both men play fast and loose with the truth—each using their own perceptions of truth for their own gain.

The power of lies and deception plays a key role here. The Champ has claimed to be Satterfield for so long that, in his eyes, it is almost reality. For Kernan, he is torn between journalistic integrity and appearing to be a failure in his son's eyes. This is where the film is at its best—the search for truth and longing of the heart to make things right. Unfortunately, the film doesn't explore this for too long.

Staying true to TV-movie formula, director Rod Lurie chooses the easy road by justifying any moral tresspass with sappy good intentions. In the end, there is little to be celebrated about The Champ or Kernan—they have revealed their true colors as despicable people willing to do anything to elevate themselves regardless of who they hurt in the process. Once cornered in their failure, they can justify their actions on any number of levels with the age-old fig leaf of good intentions. No true repentance or remorse here. Just say "this is why I did it" and everything is made new, personal responsibility be damned. Not only that—you can be recognized as doing something honorable by just saying "sorry."

What could have been a great story of honor and redemption is reduced to a glorified tale of "I'm OK, you're OK."Too bad Kernan and The Champ could not demonstrate the courage to bury their old ways and experience true changes of heart. That would have given the title Resurrecting the Champ a whole new meaning.