When world heavyweight boxing champ Apollo Creed wants to give an unknown fighter a shot at the title as a publicity stunt, his handlers pick palooka Rocky Balboa, an uneducated collector for a Phi...
Rocky delivers a knockout performance with a script more balanced than the southpaw stance. The underdog story of all underdog stories. Allowed Stallone to climb more steps to stardom than Philadelphia's Museum of Art. Accumulated enough box office to make it one of the most profitable features of all-time. And, upsettingly, won the Academy Award for best picture back in '76, punching the likes of 'Network' and 'Taxi Driver' out of the ring. It was the start of the quintessential American dream, the sporting franchise to dominate the boxing sub-genre. And it all started with this. A drama so personable, with a surprisingly minimal amount of actual boxing, that it cemented itself as a timeless classic. Rocky Balboa, a good-natured working class boxer who trains/fights in small gyms, is offered a chance at the world heavyweight championship against current champion Apollo Creed.
The predictable archetypal plot structure that sees an actual human being, rather than a boxing machine with no personality, is utilised here yet again. However, never has it been fully optimised to this extent, when the prominent structure of the narrative is focused on one single character for the majority of its runtime just walking around the streets of Philadelphia. Stallone's screenplay magnificently conveys a bountiful amount of charm for his character. So many personable qualities, such as his kind-hearted nature that allows him to interact with other working class neighbours or his ability to provide redemption for his local trainer, allow viewers to bond with Rocky on an emotional level. Never, at any point, does Stallone embed melodramatic sentimentality. There's no clichéd backstory. Nor is there any emotional distress. This is real life. The grit of the dank urban streets at night, the local lingo that provides connectivity for the character. He embellishes empathetic layers by simply making his character human, and it's incredibly refreshing to watch.
Avildsen ensures the camera is up close to Rocky's proximity to further enhance that personable style. After all, this is Stallone's pedestal, and just proves that when he is given the right material (his own that is...) that he has the capacity to deliver knockout performances like this. Stallone is Rocky Balboa. No one can replace him, and he made sure of that during the character's conception.
It's a film that has left a legacy on cinema and pop culture. The infamous training montage accompanied by the now legendary "Gonna Fly Now" theme song is an essential part of Philadelphia culture. The endearingly awkward love story with "Adriannnnnn!!!" that makes the ending absurdly perfect in every conceivable way, despite some aspects of their relationship being forced for the sake of having a love interest. It really is a timeless affair, and the final match against the overconfident Creed was a symphony of "Yes, go on hit him where it hurts!!" and "The ribs! The ribs! Stay low Rocky, come on!" from the comfort of my sofa. Unfortunately the choreography of the boxing matches meant that it was abundantly obvious the actors were not hitting each other. More fake than Creed's George Washington outfit.
Still, even if the punches failed to hit any flesh, the script, humanistic approach and central performance ensures that Rocky will continue to fight until the very final round. "Greatest sports movie of all time"? Not quite, but it's ever so close to earning that title.
