Eastwood plays Frankie Dunn, an Irish-American boxing trainer and former ‘cut man’, who runs a gym in a run down area of Los Angeles. Having spent a lifetime in the ring, he has seen fighters come and go. Normally he takes them to verge of greatness only to see them leave him for a flashier manager, leaving him to watch as they either fly or fall. He goes to Mass every day, harassing the priest with questions of faith and scripture. He prays nightly, reads the poetry of WB Yeats and is learning Irish (or ‘Gaelic’ as he calls it). He is a world weary presence, stubborn and aloof.

His only friend in the world is Scrap (Morgan Freeman), a former fighter who now works in Frankie’s gym, keeping the place clean and forming a sort of ‘Odd Couple’ relationship with his boss/friend.

One day Maggie Fitzgerald (Hilary Swank) walks into the place and asks him to train her. She is a waitress of ‘trailer trash’ stock with dreams of punching her way out of her unhappy life. Predictably, Frankie says ‘no’, he doesn't train ‘girlies; and regards ladies’ boxing as a ‘freak show’. Maggie is stubborn too however, and works out at the gym regardless. Her pestering pays off - thanks to some intervention from Scrap - and Frankie eventually concedes. That is the basic premise for ‘Million Dollar Baby,’ and on the surface, should not work. However, Eastwood has long proved that he is deeper than mainstream Hollywood clichés. ’Million Dollar Baby’ is best approached not knowing any more than that really. As the story unfolds we are drawn into the world of Frankie and Maggie and watch as a strange relationship forms. Each fills a void in the other’s life and a love story emerges, but not as we know it.

Eastwood’s direction reaches new heights here as his patient, relaxed style presents an achingly beautiful picture. His best work, including ‘Pale Rider,’ ‘Unforgiven’ and ‘Mystic River,’ has been marked for its demonstrable unhurried style. As an actor he is a film icon. From The Man with No Name of Sergio Leone’s spaghetti westerns of the sixties, through the Dirty Harry Movies and beyond he has created an onscreen persona built on characters of integrity, dogged resilience and a code of behaviour which is very much ‘old school’. As a director his films have tended to focus on a number of specific themes (a sure sign of a true auteur), including that of loss and redemption - but not in the usual way. His authorship of a movie is so much that latterly he even writes the musical score, as he does here to great effect.

As the grizzly Frankie Dunn, Eastwood is beginning to show signs of his age. At 74 though, he still looks good. There is a not a pick of fat on him and his leathery face has merely grown more expressive. As with his directing, his acting style has always been built around a Zen-like calm. When one looks back at great actors of the past forty years, there has been nobody cooler than Clint Eastwood.

As Maggie Fitzgerald, Hilary Swank is nothing less than awesome. A former Best Actress Oscar winner for ‘Boys Don’t Cry,’ she should start clearing space on her mantelpiece now, for her performance here will doubtless garner many statuettes. She has already landed the Golden Globe and surely a second Oscar is in the bag. She plays the gutsy Maggie with an intensity and endearing vulnerability, that you just want to reach into the screen and hug her. Aside from the obvious physical achievements of beefing up and undergoing vigourous boxing training for the role, her sensitive portrayal is the best acting this reviewer has seen in a long, long time.

The film features some voice-over narration from Scrap. This is familiar territory for Morgan Freeman and he reprises his ‘Red’ from ‘The Shawshank Redemption’ phrasing for a device which, again, shouldn’t work, but does. Freeman’s dry sage-like words have the worldly wisdom required to carry it off. On screen he is, unsurprisingly, great and the slow pace obviously suits his own relaxed style. As the half-blind Scrap he completes the triangle at the heart of the movie.

Everything about ‘Million Dollar Baby’ is perfect. The tone and mood of the film are timeless. The music is pitched perfectly and adds greatly to the atmosphere. The script is as lean as the director, with not one unnecessary scene or line.

Whatever it is about boxing and movies, but of all sports it seems to work best on celluloid. The monochromatic beauty of ‘Raging Bull’ and the human-spirit-glory of ‘Rocky’ have established that already. But ‘Million Dollar Baby’ is not so much a film about boxing, as a film set within the world of boxing. The real action is elsewhere.

A few weeks ago, I stated that Martin Scorsese, Oliver Stone and Woody Allen were the best American filmmakers at work today. I omitted Clint Eastwood and it was an oversight. Even if he hadn’t made this film, he would still have to be included. But now that he has made this, he has moved further up the ladder of greatness.

You will not see a better film than this affecting, sensitive, breathtakingly beautiful film this year. This is high art.