by Chris Marshall:
For pretty much my entire life, I assumed that I had seen Rocky. It hardly seems possible that
anybody could have not seen it. But
as I watched it, I came to realize that so much of it appeared totally
unfamiliar. So much so that, in my movie journal, I changed it from “yes” to “no”
under my Seen Before? column.
I knew the final scene, of course. The fight with Apollo
Creed I’ve seen many times before, but even though I knew exactly what would
happen, it was still brilliantly done. Not brilliantly done on a boxing level,
but on an emotional level, it was perfect.
For as great as this movie is, though, the actual boxing
scenes are not very convincing. I can maybe believe that Rocky, who is a club
fighter, after all, would completely eschew any attempts at defense. But Apollo
Creed, who is supposedly the best boxer in the world? Inconceivable. His
behavior outside the ring might have been based on Muhammad Ali, but inside the
ring, he couldn’t be more different. If he learned how to block, maybe Ivan Drago
wouldn’t have killed him a few years later.
But what am I talking about? This is a “boxing movie,” but
it’s certainly not about boxing. It’s about a man, and it’s about a
relationship, and it’s about finally getting a chance to be something great. To
criticize it for having unrealistic boxing scenes would be to completely miss
the point.
Even Rocky himself cares much more about Adrian than he does
about the outcome of the fight. Sure, Rocky loses, but it’s an afterthought,
and in fact, the only way you even know that Rocky loses is if you’re paying
close attention to the judges’ scores during the famous ending when Rocky and
Adrian are calling out each other’s names. Rocky wanted to go the distance with
Creed, something that no man had ever done before[1],
and on that level he succeeded.
In the last 36 years, Rocky Balboa has become something of a
cultural icon. But as the sequels kept coming, it became harder and harder to
remember how great the original was. More than anything else, I would argue, it
became an example of a franchise that didn’t know when to quit. I haven’t seen
the most recent in the series, Rocky
Balboa, but Rocky V, in which our
hero rolls around fighting Tommy Morrison in an alley, felt like a true low
point.
 |
| Rocky had a statue in Philly before Joe Frazier did. |
If you ask me, I think the real problem with all the sequels
is that Rocky always wins in the end. The original film would have been
cheapened if the decision had gone the other way. Other than circumstances that
led to the match in the first place, there was a feeling of realism in Rocky. He lived in a dump. He trained in
a sub-par facility. If we would have beaten the heavyweight champion of the
world, it would have strained credulity a little too much.
And then there was the relationship between Rocky and
Adrian. Rocky’s not the smoothest talker, and he’s not all that smart, but he’s
a fundamentally good guy. Adrian[2]
works at a pet shop, is painfully shy, and is extremely insecure. They’re a
match made in heaven. Their initial interactions, however awkward they may have
been, are still heartwarming.
The amazing thing about 1976 is that Rocky very well may have been only the third or fourth best movie
of the year. In my opinion, both Taxi
Driver and Network are greater
films (this is not an insult toward Rocky),
and I haven’t seen All the President’s
Men, but it has a pretty spiffy reputation of its own. It truly was one of
the great years in cinema, and although I wouldn’t have chosen Rocky for Best Picture, I can’t be too
upset about the pick. How many movies have had more cultural impact?
[1]
For what it’s worth, this is also strange, considering that Creed is based on
Ali. For all of Ali’s talents, punching power was never considered to be one of
his great strengths.
[2]
Between this role and being Connie Corleone, Talia Shire appeared in three Best
Picture winners in five years. That might have been equaled, but I’m pretty
sure it’s never been topped.
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