Rocky Balboa

I was given the rare opportunity to go to the movies all by myself one afternoon last week. (Some people think the solo movie experience a lonely one, but for me it is the best way to take in a film.) In order to avoid future movie viewing inequities, my wife asked me to pick one that she would probably never want to see. It didn't take me long to choose Rocky Balboa (boxing + Sly Stallone + 5th sequel = Winner!)

The premise of the movie is that a computer simulation of a fight between Rocky and the current champ shows Rocky winning, which brings Rocky, now 60, out of retirement for an exhibition match.

With only one fight at the end, "Rocky Balboa" strays a bit from the formula used by most of the sequels. All except "Rocky II" had two fights to bolster weak scripts and bad acting. This story has more heart and is better acted than most of the others. The first half of the movie is a loving examination of Rocky's retired life. His beloved Adrian (Talia Shire*) has passed on, and he holds court every night in his restaurant named for her, where patrons listen to the boxer tell stories about the good old days. Paulie (Burt Young) is still around, still a mess, and often comes by Adrian's for free booze and to harass the hostess. Rocky's son, now in his twenties and surrounded by thoughtless assholes is dealing poorly with the stress of living in his father's shadow. Rocky is bored and depressed with his retirement, and after much soul searching the slugger decides he's got one fight left in him. There were at least two touching moments toward the end of the first half where I was sure it would fade to black and the inevitable training sequence would begin. I was beginning to get itchy.

I'm a sucker for the Rocky franchise, so of course as soon as the "Gonna Fly Now" trumpets did peal out those opening notes, I was rejuvenated and ready for a good ol' Rocky training sequence. I was not disappointed. You could put that music under a shot of Stallone brushing his teeth and it would inspire. Since Rocky now owns a restaurant, the unconventional training method this time is lifting and throwing a keg around**. Rocky also revisits to the meat punching and raw egg drinking from the first movie, and runs up the steps of the Philadelphia museum to jump up and down with his newly adopted old shaggy dog in his arms (that was a bit goofy).

The fight sequences are typical Rocky fare (completely fictional, rarely is a heavyweight fight that exciting), as is the course of the match. Rocky is compared to George Foreman, who fought his last fight when he was 48, but any fight fan will recognize that a 60 year old could never go 10 rounds with a reasonably fit guy in his 20's. Even bad boxing requires incredible endurance. The beating that Rocky survives in this fight is just relentless. I'm all set to suspend disbelief during a Rocky fight, so I did. A lot. But that's why we love Rock. He's got that intangible stuff. And he needs to be hit right in the face repeatedly and with deadly force until the final round to find those intangibles.

Stallone did a decent job writing and directing, he clearly loves this character and his script and acting redeem the faults of the lesser Rocky films. He also captures the feel of Philadelphia with the same sentimental rawness I remember from the original. All in all, I rank it as the third best of the Rocky movies.***

*Apparently the awful Godfather III was her last sequel, she should have chosen this movie, it was better.
**For you Rocky neophytes, each movie uses some new, unusual training method that often reflects the setting and initially makes no sense, but ultimately turns out to be a really good idea: "Rocky" - punching sides of beef in the meat packing plant where he works; "Rocky II" - chasing a chicken ; "Rocky III" - training in an inner city gym, swimming, and racing Apollo Creed on the beach in short shorts, tall socks and sleeveless belly shirts - really ; "Rocky IV" - chopping wood, carrying logs through knee deep snow, and running in the mountains somewhere in the Soviet Union; "Rocky V"- an embarrassment for everyone involved, and I can't remember - I get that one mixed up with the arm wrestling movie.
***
1. Rocky
2. Rocky III
3. Rocky Balboa
4. Rocky II
5. Rocky IV
6. Rocky V

Film Making and Finger Paintings

Recently, my wife and I saw "Thank You For Smoking", a disappointing comedy about a the Public Relations guy for tobacco companies. Directed by Jason Reitman, it had a great cast, but fell short as a cohesive film.

Last weekend, we saw Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette"
an even more disappointing period piece starring Kirsten Dunst in the title role. It had a decent cast, beautiful art direction, but fell short as a cohesive film.

Both of these films were directed by the children of hugely successful Hollywood writer/producer/directors. Men who must have also found the films disappointing, but couldn't say so because it's a parent's job to encourage the creative ventures of his children.

I can relate. As a father of young children, I've often had to look at an indecipherable brown and black finger painting blob caked thickly onto a large thin sheet of newsprint and exclaim, "Oh sweetheart! This is beautiful!". So I can imagine Ivan Reitman feigning delight as the lights came up in his private screening, "Great job, Jay Jay! Love the talk show scene." while he must have been thinking, "I was about your age when I produced 'Animal House', punk". And Francis Ford in the screening room of the Coppola compound, wiping bread crumbs from his beard and exclaiming, "Sofia, what a beautiful film", but thinking "By the time I was 35, I had finished both 'Godfather' movies, little miss."

Of course, I'm sure both fathers are very supportive (Francis is an Executive Producer on "Marie Antoinette"). Even a black brown blob finger painting carries some level of achievement for a parent to find pride in, "Wow, you covered the whole page sweetie!" But in their deepest and most selfish of places, they must also find some comfort in the fact that their kids have not yet eclipsed their own achievements. No need to worry thus far, fellas.

Pale, Bald Freaks

My apologies to any of my fair skinned and shiny bald readers. But while walking by the ol' TV yesterday I noticed what a striking resemblance James Carville and Billy Corgan share. I've always talked about buzzing all my hair off, but the shiny clean shaven look only really works for darker skinned fellas. A Stipelike stubble is neccessary to create a bit of contrast up there. Once a pale man shaves his head completely clean, he looks like a clone of every other guy, and frankly it freaks me out a little.



Honestly, I think Gollum is the only one who's really pulling it off. It's that little bit of hair that's working for him.

I'll Let You Be In My Dream If I Can Be In Yours

Wow. I was gonna write something about how much pale, totally bald white guys freak me out, but I just watched the first half of Scorcese's Bob Dylan documentary, "No Direction Home" and I'm just feeling the love. Obviously I didn't grow up in the Sixties (unless you consider "growing up" learning to walk) and as far as my history of music listening goes, I didn't really discover Dylan until the early 90's, but when I did, he hit me hard. Listening to the likes of Allen Ginsburg, Pete Seger, Joan Baez gush about him tonight, and hearing him talk so frankly about himself was a rush. Watching his story being told by one of America's premier storytellers didn't suck either.

We all get to read about great art and great artists. Picasso, Monet, Bach, Mozart, Shakespeare, Whitman all seem so far away. What a treat to be able to listen to the man who turned pop music on it's ear tell his own story. Sure, if he didn't do it, someone else would have come along and made Rock n' Roll a fertile ground for something other than singing about lost love and partying, but it was him, and there he was tonight in a very rare, candid interview in my own living room. Thank you Bob, and Martin. I can't wait for tomorrow night, when he goes electric and really starts fucking with everyone.