There's something sweet in there, but it ain't cake

So I watched Million Dollar Baby because it was recommended by the Netflix algorithm after the credits rolled on the by-the-numbers Rocky spin-off Creed 2, the second film in a franchise about a man "forging his own legacy" by becoming famous for doing the same thing his dad did, and while I usually think the Netflix recommendations algorithm might be broken because it rarely recommends films explaining how white people are being replaced with Jews and Muslims like the Youtube algorithm does, with Million Dollar Baby coming hot on the heels of a movie about a black man attaining success and legitimacy, Netflix might finally be catching up with YT in normalising reactionary right-wing responses to minorities.
Don't get me wrong, I was actually quite enjoying Million Dollar Baby... until the comedy hillbillies showed up, grasping for benefits and sneering at the idea of getting a job, but after this it became a bit hard not to attempt a read of the film's politics, especially when not long after that it abandoned its cliched rags-to-riches boxing fable plot arc to become a film with deeply odd opinions about disability and then resolved its hillbilly arc with a scene in which the sneering rednecks fresh from a visit to the sights of Las Vegas attempt to rob a quadriplegic as they lay in their hospital bed.
Leaving its highly conservative class politics aside, instead of a counterpoint to Creed 2, Million Dollar Baby felt a lot like a continuation, as both are predictable movies traveling well-worn paths, it's just that Million Dollar Baby swerves to become a different kind of predictable movie plot in its final third that lets the cast and crew make a grab for some Oscar glory, but up until then it is indistinguishable from countless low-budget "learning to fight and learning to grow" pupil/sensei dramas from the 80s and 90s.  And now I have a hankering to watch American Shaolin again.