โSILENT pictures were the purest form of cinema,โ Alfred Hitchcock once remarked to Franรงois Truffaut, having made nine of them before becoming the first British filmmaker to embrace sound in 1929.
It was Hitchcockโs belief that silent films best represented the โshow, donโt tellโ mantra and that the advent of talkies merely facilitated storytelling shortcuts and all-round laziness. Essentially, Hitch reckoned talking was cheating; that actions spoke louder than words.
In boxing, the silent assassins, men like Vasyl Lomachenko, Terence Crawford and Gennady Golovkin, represent boxing in its purest form. Their stories emerge from the brilliance of their movement, or a look, and have not a thing to do with anything they say or how they behave. Such is their ability, we donโt need to be told. We see it.
Yet this, too, is a dying art, as evidenced by the sudden need for boxers to act up, generate noise, develop personas and make outrageous comments in the name of attention. Video cameras are everywhere, even on phones, and the age of the talkies is upon us. The stage has never been bigger. The attention span of the audience never shorter.
These days the heavyweight division, in particular, has about as much subtlety โ and depth โ as a Michael Bay blockbuster. In leading roles, you will find Deontay Wilder and Tyson Fury, larger-than-life entertainers whose comfort zone is controversy, while support arrives in the form of bitter rivals Anthony Joshua and Dillian Whyte, as well as a host of extras willing to do away with niceties for a shot at relevance.
For a time, they were exciting, this cast of characters. Exciting, that is, until we realised the script from which they were reading was shared, passed around, and that their goal was the same: talk a good fight but avoid a good fight โ for the time being at least.
As they focused on building franchises rather than classics, Andy Ruiz Jnr came along and sorted them out. In June, he punished the leading men for their self-indulgence and stalling and made off with three of the four heavyweight titles. He hardly uttered a word in the process. He simply smiled and said thank you. He brought it back to fighting. He invited others.
Now, another heavyweight whose silence is both unusual and soothing is Daniel Dubois, a mild-mannered 21-year-old from London whose performance last Saturday (July 13) against Nathan Gorman acted as a guttural scream in the ear of anyone not listening. That night it took fewer than five rounds for us and Gorman to realise the only thing more painful than Duboisโ shyness are the punches he throws. In that time, he not only became British heavyweight champion but recalibrated our expectations of what it means to be a modern-day heavyweight.
โIโve never heard him say a bad word about anybody,โ Duboisโ trainer Martin Bowers told Boxing News this week. โAnd Iโve never heard him raise his voice or get angry.
โI remember driving through the West End with him once and there were cars weaving in and out of traffic and cutting us up. It was taking too long to get where we wanted to get, and I said something like, โCome on, for Godโs sake! Thereโs too many f**king people round here!โ
โI then turn to Dan, expecting him to be the same, frustrated that weโre stuck in traffic and late. But he goes: โYeah, but they all serve a purpose, donโt they?โ
โNow Iโve got something to believe in,โ continued Bowers. โHeโs a big lump but heโs got a really nice way about him and brings you back down to earth. Heโs a real nice boy. He donโt want anything.โ
They all serve a purpose, Dubois says, and heโs right. Which is why, when lauding the new British heavyweight championโs rise to prominence, and admiring his low-key brand of violence, we should first appreciate the work of the loudmouths who helped pave the way.
These heavyweights, after all, built the platform and captured the audience. In a post-Klitschko world, they made heavyweights attractive again, dangerous again, and allowed men like Dubois, 12-0 (11), to go about their work quietly in the background and not have to pretend to be something theyโre not. They did the talking on his behalf. The selling on his behalf. The hating on his behalf.
In recent years, David Haye and Tony Bellew hated each other but then became friends. Dillian Whyte and Dereck Chisora hated each other but then became friends. Tyson Fury and Deontay Wilder hated each other but then became friends.
Fun while it lasts, this ability of boxers to bury the hatchet having shared something personal and gruelling (as well as lucrative) is one of the great upsides of the sport. Yet, equally, rom-com narratives exist only because of all the talking and selling beforehand. (Had they not sold their hatred in the first place, there would be nothing to patch up, no story arc to complete, no happy ending. Oh, and no gold at the box office.)
With Dubois, you get none of this. No script. No exposition. You get straight to the point โ straight to the fight scene. It should be dull and frustrating, yet, conversely, itโs what makes Dubois so fascinating.
He is not telling you he hates someone, nor promising to deliver on some half-arsed threat. Instead, he is content to show you, shunning the temptation to run his mouth or utilise a persona to conceal insecurity or doubt.
โI donโt like all that stuff,โ said Bowers. โBoxing is really brutal and itโs hard game. You donโt want it to be the way itโs been lately. It is show business but itโs not show-off business.
โEvery day they come to the gym they have to pull their socks up, get in the ring and do some really hard graft. All sports are hard, but boxing is a special game. Itโs particularly hard.โ
Any time a fighter says they would like to do their talking with their fists, you fear for them, for it typically represents step one on the path to anonymity; a path steeped with periods of inactivity, off-TV fights, paltry purses, early retirement, a day job and, ultimately, regret.
You fear for them today more than ever. Today, in this era of pay-per-view fights and fast food interviews, itโs all about over-the-top personalities, manufactured rivalries and cheap, processed beef. These are the buzzwords, the currency, and only special fighters buck this trend and still make a success of it.
To do so, the special few need to be more than just committed. They need to be good. Really good. They also have to shout loudly when it matters โ in the ring, with two fists โ and be able to stand behind their highlight reel, offering it up as both shield and CV. โThis is me,โ their eye-catching performances need to say. โTake it or leave it.โ Like a master director, they will refuse to say much more because there is no need for any further explanation.
Of all the newcomers who fall into this bracket, Dubois is by far the best-equipped to pull it off. In his case, knockouts come naturally, in a way words donโt, and his very appearance lends itself to intrigue. When sitting in silence, for instance, brooding and bored, he remains a compelling character to observe. Then, when opening his mouth, there is a sense each grunt and mumble reveals something about him, even if itโs little more than a hatred for attention and human interaction.
Basically, Dubois brings back some mystery at a time when the name of the game โ in boxing, as in life โ seems to be shameless overexposure. And for that we should be grateful.
โHeโs got the Bruno effect,โ Bowers explained. โThe public are going to like him because heโs not rude, heโs not arrogant and heโs not trying to show off.
โBut heโs also got that Tyson effect. Once he puts those two gloves on, heโs a competitor. Heโs a terminator. Heโs coming to get you. If you want a fight, heโll have a fight. You have to stop him wanting to have a fight. You have to really pull the reins in.
โHe shows no emotion. Weโve been everywhere for sparring and everyone has tried putting it on him, but he never gets flustered. Heโs got ice in his veins. He shows nothing โ good, bad or indifferent.
โHeโs also very honest and heโll tell you the truth. He did that face-to-face thing with Nathan before the fight and they were asked to give each other points out of ten. Nathan put five down, which is fair enough, but Dan put a naught down for Nathan. I thought, Bloody hell, what are you doing? I nearly fell off my chair laughing. But thatโs Dan.โ
Though this face-to-face was filmed, and they were accompanied by a TV presenter, Daniel Duboisโ reluctance to play Daniel Dubois โ boxer, heavyweight, monster โ was so strong it threatened to undermine the point of the show altogether. Refusing a handshake was one thing, but more revealing were the frequent glances away from Gorman and Steve Bunce, the looks over his shoulder, the looks to people off-camera. The mannerisms of a child waiting for school finish, they showed him to be fed up, distracted and antsy to escape and play.
Quickly, it became clear Dubois was built differently to Gorman and other heavyweights we have seen in similar positions, that is, sitting at a table in a dark room, cameras on. Unlike the rest, there is no seamless switch from human being to machine and back again; no switch from boxer to actor and back again. There is, in fact, no indication Dubois wants to talk to you, play-act with you, build a rivalry with you, or even make money with you. To his way of thinking, if he isnโt fighting you, it makes no real sense for him to be in your company. (At least not when throwing punches is forbidden.)
โI just let him be himself,โ his promoter, Frank Warren, told BN. โI think heโs a very cool, calm and collected young man and he does all his talking in the ring. In fact, when heโs in the ring, itโs not talking, itโs shouting. He does the business every time.
โYou shouldnโt try and change these guys. Anthony Joshua is a quiet guy. Joe Calzaghe wasnโt a shouter. I donโt like them being something theyโre not. Be who you are. The public arenโt fools. Theyโll sense you arenโt being genuine and sniff you out.โ
Instead of calling him a young man, some have labelled Dubois โsimpleโ, suggesting his monosyllabic approach to media interrogation is not so much a choice as a reflection of little going on upstairs. This, however, not only does Dubois a disservice but misses the point entirely.
Because, if anything, history tell us itโs the overthinkers who tie themselves in knots and eventually stumble. Itโs the overthinkers who burn so much nervous energy before and during a fight that they reduce themselves to an exhausted, quivering wreck the moment adversity grabs hold of them. Itโs the overthinkers who think they are better than they are, whose confidence is never quite as unwavering as it seems.
In boxing, simplicity is clever, the recipe for success. And it might explain why Dubois and boxers of his ilk appear so relaxed on fight night, when first walking to the ring and when giving and receiving punches. Overawed by the occasion? Never. Not when keeping it simple; not when guided by a mind as empty as a heart.
On Saturday at the O2 Arena, Dubois was deadpan. Dead behind the eyes. He was the perfect machine for a job like that: the imposing build, the equally imposing demeanor and the thousand-yard stare. Warmth and joviality at a time like that is out of place, unwelcome and dangerous. Coldness, on the other hand, this trait vilified in everyday life, usually gets the job done.
โSponsors send him T-shirts for him to wear and he doesnโt even take them out the plastic bags,โ said Bowers. โI ask him about them, and he goes, โI didnโt even open them.โ Heโll turn up in the same training gear all the time. Iโll say, โCome on, Dan, why donโt you wear some of the sponsorโs gear?โ He goes, โOh yeah.โ
โHe doesnโt mean any disrespect by it but heโs not in the game for that stuff. Heโs got one thing on his mind: that world title. Heโs like a moth to a flame.
โHe ainโt running about doing other stuff and getting distracted. He ainโt fashion-conscious or interested in anything. He just wants to get on the train and come to the gym. He then walks back up the road and gets back on the train or his dad picks him up. He likes to watch his brother and sister go training. Heโs just a nice boy.
โListen, if he keeps his feet on the ground, which Iโm sure he will do because heโs got a good family unit behind him, the British public are going to warm to him and I think weโll have a really good role model for boxing.
โI think itโs going to be a really nice journey. Itโs going to be violent and everything you want it to be, but weโre not going to have tables flipped over and that negativity that sometimes surrounds people.โ
Refreshingly, Dubois doesnโt have to tell you heโs humble or wear the word on a cap or T-shirt to convince you he is. Humble, to him, is not a selling point but a permanent state of mind. It is the reason why rather than training in seclusion, or using PR goons as conduits for his personality, Dubois can be found at Canning Townโs Peacock Gym sharing the floor with journeymen, young prospects, amateurs, city boys and those for whom a championship fight is a battle against their expanding waistline and the more natural urge to whittle away hours in the pub.
Frankly, Dubois, at just 21, could be the role model British boxing has been looking for: the most reluctant of role models, the one shy and awkward, the one hiding. When youngsters his age tend to be belligerent, unnervingly cocksure and fighting to be seen, Dubois would prefer to fight โ which is to say, practice and master his art โ than be seen. Itโs an example others should follow; an approach heavyweights should fear.
โWhat you see is what you get,โ said Bowers. โI donโt want to talk bad about Anthony Joshua because he has achieved a lot and done so much for this sport, but I do think he was a little too manufactured and a little too media-trained. Itโs not real.
โEven when he does his training things, itโs all too precise. When we do our training things, weโre loose and doing our b*****ks. It isnโt the perfect form because weโre all tired. Itโs real. Heโs fighting. He needs to be a fighter. Fighters are real people. They have to be.โ
Daniel Dubois is real. Too real, perhaps, for a division flogging a fantasy and for fans demanding reality TV star behaviour from one-track prizefighters. But he is certainly real, both in terms of power and personality, and if you take the time to listen, youโll hear the sound of silence and remember that itโs golden.