PQ: “Not that I am excluded from guilty pleasures, but they don’t fall in the food or alcohol variety: a good book, an early 1970s film and great conversation, that’s what does it for me.”
Brazilian novelist Paulo Coehlo once wrote: “You are not defeated when you lose, you are defeated when you quit.” It’s a simple yet no less profound notion for living one’s life, more so perhaps if you happen to be an athlete: in sport, winning is everything.
But much like life, losing builds character. It may also lead you to the path you’re meant to be on. Case in point: Michael Bentt. The British-born American was raised by his dad to be a boxer, and he was indeed a success: four New York City Golden Gloves titles, five United States Amateur Boxing Championships and three (New York State) Empire State Games gold medals made him one of the most decorated amateur boxers in US history. Bentt’s professional boxing career spanned 1989 to 1994 and he won the WBO heavyweight title from Tommy Morrison in 1993, losing the title in his first defence in 1994 to Herbie Hide.
But as told by Bentt himself in episode one of the Netflix documentary series Losers, the pummelling he took from his father, literally and figuratively, led to a love-hate relationship with the sport he had both a talent and passion for.
“I was in opposition to being used as a tool for the vicarious satisfaction of my father. He was that someone we’re all taught would and should “love” you unconditionally. As such, that is where my conflict with my sport lives,” he says. “Once I committed to the journey on my own terms, I was able to take flight and use said conflict as fuel for my fire.”
Not surprisingly, Bentt suggests parents of sporting prodigies ensure that it’s not about them, but about the child’s talent. “Show enthusiasm and encouragement, and introduce standards exhibited by the greats of whatever craft your child is pursuing and interested in. If you’re fortunate enough, those things will manifest organically.” The child may still hold some resentment, and that, according to Bentt, is fine. “That’s a part of the process of your child’s growth, as well as yours.”
Long retired from boxing, Bentt has found his calling in another field altogether: acting. But before he scored the role of boxer Sonny Liston in Michael Mann’s 2001 Muhammad Ali biopic Ali, Bentt had the acting bug, or as he describes it, “the strongest strain of malaria”.
He has since worked with Mann several times, whom he calls “a heavyweight thinker in every sense of the term”. “The thing about Michael and any other great director is that they speak the language of the actor: they allow us to take risks. It may sound simple [but] trust me, it’s not,” Bentt proffers, suggesting that “wonderful, insightful, erudite directors” share something in common with master boxing instructors: “acutely developed bullshit radars”.
“Prior to acting I was a movie buff. I studied the films of Michael [Mann], Roman Polanski, Ron Shelton, Steven Spielberg and Spike Lee, just to name a few. But Michael Mann’s Thief and the screenplay for Under Fire by Ron Shelton and Clayton Foreman did it for me.”
With sports journalist and theatre director also added to his CV post-retirement, Bentt still has aspirations in front of the camera, including working with Mann, Ron Shelton, and Clint Eastwood again. “The director Fred Berner is a dear friend and we have been talking about doing something together for quite some time now. Hopefully that will come to fruition. Bill Duke and Kathryn Bigelow are also directors I admire greatly.”
“I recently had the chance to visit the set of Bad Boys III in Atlanta, where I reunited with the beautiful, insightful and megastar Will Smith. Needless to say, Will is someone I would be delighted to work with again. Jeffrey Wright is a friend as well, and working with him would be astounding.” Idris Elba, Ellen Burstyn and Viola Davis are also on Bentt’s wish list.
Michael, who splits his time between Los Angeles and Atlanta, turns 55 this September and he’s in great shape; a lifetime of physical activity and plain old vanity keeping him from letting himself go now that he’s no longer in the ring. “Staying in shape for me is relatively easy. My vanity dictates that I watch what I eat. I also go on long walks daily. Occasionally, I will whip out the old jump rope and get the cardio revved up, produce a nice sweat,” he says. “As far as cheat meal days, those are very rare for me. Not that I am excluded from guilty pleasures, but they don’t fall in the food or alcohol variety: a good book, an early 1970s film and great conversation, that’s what does it for me.
