The odd thing about "Girlfight" is that, in what it says about boxing as a means of achieving dignity and making something better of life, it's not that far from "Rocky." That's a comparison that would probably appall any self-respecting indie devotee. Even though it was made within the studio system (for United Artists) "Rocky" was, in spirit, the quintessential indie movie that turned Hollywood heads. Made for less than $1 million by an unknown writer-star, and gritty in a way that didn't look like the usual Hollywood version of grit (the crummy apartments of Sylvester Stallone's characters were really crummy), it was an underdog story that allowed you to feel good for its characters without feeling like your head had been stuffed with cotton.

I raise the comparison not to knock indie movies but to point out the self-defeating contradiction of movies that are basically crowd pleasers but won't avail themselves of the energy that would make them emotionally satisfying. A little more flair and polish could have made "Girlfight" a terrific movie instead of just the decent one it is. A new director should be allowed time to find her feet, but the best part of Kusama's work suggests she's a better director than she allows herself to be here.

The best thing the movie has going for it is a subject that's both engaging and touchy. Women's boxing is one of those things that periodically remind us just how much or how little we believe in equality between the sexes. Sure, there are traditional fans who are sometimes appalled by the very idea of women's boxing. But there are feminists who are just as appalled, who think that women who box are allowing themselves to be co-opted by male aggression. (In her new book, "The Boxer's Heart," writer and boxer Kate Sekules quotes a female boxing publicist as saying, "I don't want to deny any woman the right to do what she wants, but I don't really want to promote it. Maleness is a vital component of boxing.")

There's a trace of that view -- boxing as solely male aggression -- in "Girlfight." In the gym and in the ring, Kusama's heroine Diana (newcomer Michelle Rodriguez) is working off the anger she feels toward her father (Paul Calderon) and the emotional abuse that led her mother to suicide. Her rage, Kusama makes clear, comes from the dominant man in her life. But watching Diana walk with her unblinking sneer through the hallways of her Brooklyn, N.Y., high school, before we know anything about her home life, we can easily see her anger as the classic outsider's resentment at kids who are smarter or prettier or more socially graceful. (That's the classic youth movie component that I think will hook male as well as female moviegoers.)

You have to hold onto Diana's anger and determination to do things her way because Kusama has saddled the character with a pretty hoary plot device. Diana's father is a macho traditionalist from whom she has to keep her boxing secret. Her brother, Tiny (Ray Santiago, playing a character whose name tells you everything you need to know about his function in the movie), has been forced into boxing by his old man, who thinks men need to know how to fight. He also ridicules Tiny's desire to go to art school as a waste of time.

There's no way a movie could be made about a young woman who enters the world of boxing and not be about the sexism she encounters there. But Kusama makes the mistake of turning her sexists into predictable pigs with dialogue like "Would it kill you to wear a skirt once in a while?" or "This equality crap has gone too far," and falling back on clichéd devices about traditional media images of women. (There's a montage of TV commercials showing dewy-fresh girls or dutiful housewives.)

It's completely believable that some of the old-timers (as well as some of the young guys) at the Brooklyn gym where Diana trains would think that women have no business boxing. But there is simply no way that anyone involved in the sport -- no matter what they think about women boxing -- could not have heard the noise being made by fighters like Lucia Rijker or any of the hundreds of other women boxing as both amateurs and pros. (Certainly women boxers weren't a novelty to the men of the real Brooklyn gym featured in last year's documentary "On the Ropes.")

When "Girlfight" shines it's because Kusama simply ignores all the blab about whether women should box or not and concentrates on Diana coming to feel she belongs in the ring. Watching her hone her aggression into a boxer's skills, there's no doubt that this is what she's meant to be doing. That type of skill is its justification, the kind that makes the arguments used against it moot.

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