A few days ago, I set the DVR to record the 1976 Best Picture winner Rocky off of TCM. Last night, I finally got a chance to sit down and actually watch it.
Why Was I Watching It?
I’ll be honest here and admit that I wasn’t watching it because I’ve ever had any great desire to see this movie or, for that matter, any other Sylvester Stallone film. (Though, for the record, I thought the Expendables was vaguely entertaining.) However, this being Oscar season, my mind right now is pretty much dominated by 1) a mental list of all 493 best picture nominees and 2) an obsessive need to see every single one of those films.
And since we’re focusing on reviewing best picture nominees this month, I figured why not take this opportunity to watch Rocky. After all, I thought, this is the film that managed to win best picture over Network, Taxi Driver, and All The President’s Men. How bad can it be?
What’s It About?
So, there’s this guy named Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) and he’s got to be the nicest Mafia goon alive. He spends his time collecting debts for the local loan shark (played by the Maniac himself, Joe Spinell) but he refuses to break anyone’s thumbs while doing so and even offers up helpful advice like, “Yo, you got to start thinking.” Spinell’s all like, “Rocky, why aren’t you breaking anyone’s thumbs?” and Rocky says he doesn’t want to and Spinell’s all like, “That’s okay,” because oddly enough, Joe Spinell is the only guy in the Mafia who is nicer than Rocky.
Anyway. Rocky is also a boxer who fights “bums” (as his trainer Burgess Meredith is fond of bellowing) and who is sweetly courting Adrian (Talia Shire), a shy girl who works in the local pet store. Adrian’s brother (played by Burt Young) is named Paul but since everyone in the film is Italian, he’s called “Paulie” instead. (I can say this because I’m a fourth Italian and if your name is Paul, I’m going to call you “Paulie” whether you like it or not.)
Anyway, there’s another boxer (played by Carl Weathers) and he’s named Apollo Creed. Apollo is the champ because when you’ve got a name like Apollo Creed, you better be the best or else you’re just going to look silly. For publicity reasons, Apollo gives the unknown Rocky the chance to fight him for the championship. Apollo is expecting an easy fight but he hasn’t taken into consideration that Rocky is not only willing to run every morning but he’s willing to run up steps as well!
What Worked?
(WARNING: SPOILERS BELOW.)
The love story between Rocky and Adrian was kinda sweet, largely because Talia Shire and Sylvester Stallone both had a very genuine chemistry and Shire gave such a good performance that Stallone (who spends most of the film coming across like a parody of a method actor) gives a better performance when he’s sharing the screen with her. I spent a lot of this movie rolling my eyes at just how shamelessly manipulative it was but I have to admit that the final scene — with Adrian going “I love you, Rocky,” and a bloody and kinda gross-looking Rocky replying with a heartfelt, “I love you!” — brought tears to my multi-colored eyes.
What Didn’t Work?
Rocky has got to be one of the most shamelessly manipulative films ever made. Director John G. Avildsen (who won best director while Martin Scorsese wasn’t even nominated for Taxi Driver) pushed every obvious button and used every technique at his disposal to force the audience to root for Rocky. Hence, we get the famous training montage set to soaring music and the subtle appeals to racism that are inherent in the portrayals of Apollo Creed and his entourage. Admittedly, one reason that a lot of these scenes fell flat is because I’ve seen them duplicated in thousands of other sports films. I know its possible that the reason I’ve seen them duplicated is because of Rocky’s success but still, it doesn’t make those scenes feel any less obvious and vaguely silly.
Do you know how sometimes you just watch a movie and you go, “There is absolutely nothing in this movie for me to relate to and I really should be watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills right now?” Well, my reaction to Rocky wasn’t that extreme but it was pretty close. I watched this film — which I’ve seen described as one of the most emotional films ever made — feeling oddly detached from everything I was seeing on-screen, my attention only being held by a clinical fascination concerning just how shamelessly manipulative this film was. Try as I might, I simply could not get emotionally invested in what I was watching. Some of that, undoubtedly, has to do with the fact that I’m not into sports films in general. However, I think most of it comes down to the fact that I have a vagina and, quite frankly, the appeal of Sylvester Stallone is lost on me.
Speaking of the appeal of Sylvester Stallone…
“Oh my God! Just like me!” Moments:
None. It’s rare that I say that because I can usually find a way to relate any movie I see to my life but Rocky was just too alien to me.
Lessons Learned:
Best is a subjective term.
Rookie Mistake. Nobody watches Rocky I anymore, you should start with Rocky 2 – It’s basically Rocky remade with a budget and far better production quality
Also, yes, I suspect you need a penis to enjoy the Rocky films 
People still watch Rocky and it remains an extremely popular film. The immense box office success of the most recent chapter in the Rocky saga proves this point. At the end of Rocky Balboa, alongside the credits, there is footage of Rocky fans running up the steps of the Philadelphia Art Museum. Granted, more people probably run up those steps than actually go inside the Art Museum itself these days, but that just goes to show you how impactful Rocky is as a pop culture phenomenon. Rocky fans travel from all over the world to run those steps. I think that’s pretty special–name one other film, off the top of your head–quickly, now–that inspire the same sort of emulation. Can’t do it, can you?
I have absolutely no idea what people mean when they say that Rocky is a manipulative film. If you accuse Rocky of manipulating its audience then you might as well put just about every film in existence on trial. I would also argue that if the methods of so-called manipulation employed by director John G. Avildsen are so blatantly obvious, then what’s the problem? It’s not as if Avildsen is being deceptive. Basically, we have Rocky Balboa, a hard-luck prizefighter from a rough neighbourhood in Philadelphia. He gets one shot in a million. You either care or you don’t. Avildsen lays it all on the table–take it or leave it. There’s certainly nothing deceptive about it. So people complain about the soaring music, the inspirational training montage? Great, let’s take every other movie with these elements and remove such devices from the equation. Cinema would be much less exciting if we did.
Accusing the film of appealing to ethnic bigotry by way of its casting is ludicrous to say the least. This is one of those no-win situations. Sylvester Stallone wrote the screenplay and allowed MGM to make the film on the proviso that only he would play the part of Rocky Balboa, thus Rocky was always going to be Italian-American. So what if Carl Weathers, an Afro-American, played the opponent, Apollo Creed. What were the makers of the film supposed to do? Tell Carl that he couldn’t have the role, because the film would then be appealing to the less savoury attitudes of the film-going public? Now that most certainly would be a bigoted decision–to deny an Afro-American a film role based upon what the public “might think”.
Perhaps a little background is needed. Sylvester Stallone was inspired largely by the Chuck Wepner versus Muhammad Ali fight of 1975, that saw Wepner last until the fifteenth round against the man considered by many to be the greatest heavyweight boxer to ever lace up the gloves. What made the epic stoush a part of boxing lore was that Wepner, like his fictional counterpart Rocky Balboa, was a journeyman, a tomato. They didn’t call Wepner the “Bayonne Bleeder” for nothing (this is what Mickey means when he calls Rocky “a tomato”). So naturally, Apollo Creed was based upon Muhammad Ali, and if you ask me, Carl Weathers, a former gridiron player with relatively little acting experience prior to playing Apollo, did a spectacular job. Carl’s screen presence, gift of the gab and charisma in the role makes Apollo Creed one of my favourite film characters.
As much as people accuse Rocky of following the formula (and so what if it does, when it does the formula as well as any other film of its type?), one cliche it avoids is painting Apollo Creed, Rocky’s opposite number, as some kind of heel. Granted, future Rocky movies would feature increasingly nasty villains posed as obstacles for the “Italian Stallion” to overcome. The original Rocky film isn’t about heroes and villains. Apart from the tender romance between Rocky and Adrian–something often (inexplicably) overlooked in the make-up of the movie–the story is about two sportsmen, standing toe-to-toe, engaging in the spirit of competition. Okay, so Apollo Creed is a loud-mouthed showboat who treats his battle with Rocky as if it’s one big circus, but that’s something of his appeal. How can you not sort of like a fellow who enters the arena dressed like George Washington (an Afro-American President Washington–brilliantly subversive for 1976) then prances about as Uncle Sam bellowing “I want you! I want you! I want (points to Rocky) the Stallion!”
Apollo Creed isn’t thoughtless, either. There’s a great shot of a contemplative Creed, sitting in solitude, the night before the fight. What is he thinking? If he walks into the ring and flattens journeyman Rocky, what does that prove? If Rocky goes the distance with Apollo, what might they say about Creed–that he carried Rocky through the fight? Meanwhile, Rocky is in his cluttered low-rent apartment, emptying his soul to Adrian. Rocky doesn’t even rate himself in the same league as Apollo. All Rocky can hope to do is “go the distance” with his seemingly invincible opponent. That’s another cliche this movie avoids. Most underdog sports films have heroes who are endlessly optimistic about winning against all odds, and haven’t the slightest shred of self-doubt (not that there is anything wrong with this). Rocky knows that there’s no way that he can defeat Apollo. It’s much like Burt Reynolds in the role of Paul Crewe in The Longest Yard. Crewe knows that his ragtag squad of prisoner football players doesn’t stand a chance against the guards–Crewe is simply concerned with surviving, and maybe, giving the prisoners some of their self-respect. Likewise, for once in his life, Rocky Balboa, a “bum from the neighbourhood”, wants to be standing tall at the final bell. He wants to survive fifteen rounds with the best in the world, and maybe, get back some of his self-respect.
The editing of this film (Scott Conrad, Ray Halsey) is beyond criticism. Rocky’s training montage followed by his titanic clash with Apollo Creed (accompanied by the music of Bill Conti: you want to discuss Oscar controversy? How did this not scoop the prize for Best Original Score?) are absolutely riveting. They are textbook examples in how to match sight and sound. By the way, for those who missed it, Rocky just doesn’t run up a few steps to get in shape, he jogs across much of his blue-collar Philadelphia neighbourhood–the climbing of the steps is intended to be symbolic. I’m not sure why Lisa Marie Bowman makes it the point of derision in her review.
I also think it’s unfair to suggest that Rocky is a film for men only. There is a video store in my hometown that has a section where films are divided into gender categories for those people who believe that movies audiences ought to be segregated based upon sex. A lot of women happen to enjoy the Rocky movies, and the fact is that Rocky, all things considered, is as much a romantic love story, if not moreso, than it is a fight picture. The film is at least as much about the relationship between Rocky and Adrian as it is about the battle between Rocky and Apollo. Besides, I enjoy both sides of the Rocky story–the relationship with Adrian and the rivalry with Apollo. As serious film buffs, we should be above such gender stereotyping.
Sylvester Stallone might not be for everybody, but he’s one actor-writer-director whom I feel really gives it his all. That’s most obvious from watching Rocky, a film that has stood the test of time. Perhaps the film is not for you, but please, people, spare us the rubbish that the film is men-only terrain. Not only does it demean the film itself and the medium of cinema as a whole, but also it’s pretty insulting to women who adore the movie.
Oh well, at least Lisa Marie took time to watch the movie, but in the end, for all her jaded outlook, not even she was immune to the special charm of this film. I’ve met people who have never watched a Rocky movie and make all sorts of judgements about its content, and are stunned to be told that, for a movie that runs around two hours, it features relatively little of the sweet science. It’s more of a sweet romance.
I didn’t say that women couldn’t adore Rocky. All I said was that this woman didn’t particurly care for it.
Woah. Longest. Post. Ever.
It’s pretty clear from the above review and the original response that at least two people think that being a Rocky fan is a matter of anatomy. Mind you, this is not an opinion confined to women. A lot of fellows classify Rocky as a men-only film, or at least, a film that is enjoyed by men much more than women. I think it’s an insecure male reflex (or perhaps just plain narrow-mindedness) to define Rocky as nothing more than a macho sports action film, just as it is when men use the dreaded phrase “chick flick” to describe any romantic film that they feel is not worthy of their emotional investment.