Looks like this is my first boxing movie viewing in two and a half years. Can't say I missed the subgenre, but this one has a little something extra to interest me: basis on the life of a real boxer I'd already heard of. Not that I could have told you anything else about him.
Rocco "Rocky" Barbello (Paul Newman) is a fairly violent Brooklyn thief. Fellow con Frankie (Robert Loggia) suggests that he box for money. Rocky does so only in desperation, adopting the last name "Graziano" to hide his criminal record. Once he realizes how far he can go without losing a match, he learns to love it. But his past threatens to catch up to him, particularly when Frankie tries bribery and then blackmail to get him to take a dive.
I mentioned before how Jim Braddock didn't seem very bright. Well, Rocky makes Jim look like Mensa material. The way he acts up in penitentiaries and even when drafted into the Army suggests that he's never known discipline in his whole life. He doesn't take good care of himself or train properly for his new passion. People keep pointing out how he makes things worse for himself, yet his usual motto is "Don't worry about a thing." In fairness, his abusive, dour father (Harold J. Stone) gave him the impression that he -- and any boxer -- had no future anyway. His mother (Eileen Heckart) is nice but sees herself as an enabler of both men's misbehavior.
In spite of his outstanding flaws, Rocky does win the crush of his sister's friend, Norma (Pier Angeli). At first he thinks he has no time for a girlfriend, but then he makes excuses to stay in her presence longer. I'm not keen on his otherwise good manager (Everett Sloane) demanding that they either marry or break up for the sake of his career. The strangest part is that Norma doesn't even like boxing. What does that leave to admire in him? Raw masculinity?
Fortunately, what the film lacks in protagonist charisma or contemporary star power, it makes up for in artistry. Specifically, it got Oscars for cinematography and art direction, plus a nod for editing. Certainly the first-person ringside camerawork was impressive for the time.
There's also more bloodshed and general grit than I expected from a non-noir of the '50s. (I didn't even think you could say "pregnant" on screen in those days.) Nevertheless, as the title implies, it gets uplifting in the end, regardless of how little you may care about the sport. Rocky even makes peace with his dad.
At 114 minutes, SUTLM is pretty long for an oldie, but it doesn't drag. I was content to finish up later than usual that night because of an engaging picture.
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