 Often times, you’ll sit there, you’ll look and you’ll find nothing (at least I do). But then all of a sudden, someone hands you a microscope and voila… Well, when you think of November 21, 1976, the first thing that jumps out at you is likely absolutely nothing, at best. But upon a deeper dig, you’ll come to realize the date marks a watershed moment in film history, as United Artists released Sylvester Stallone’s masterpiece and first claim-to-fame, Rocky.
Set in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania (just typing it makes me cringe), Rocky is a classic, lighthearted, “simple man’s” tale of a down-and-out, ill-fated, local-ring boxer (Sylvester Stallone), who through stroke of luck, finds himself in a position to fight for the heavyweight title against current champion Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers). However, leaving it at that would result in a cinematic felony, as the film represents so much more, and then some. It touches upon some of life’s most complex elements (work, struggle and love) with almost an unprecedented simplicity, all the while bringing forth the underlying and often clichéd “American dream” theme. Rocky Balboa, the film’s heroin, leads three lives, in a sense; all of which capture the work, struggle and love elements. Interestingly and unconventionally (by most filmmaking/screenwriting standards), those very elements are brought to life in the first few episodes of the film. Work The film commences with what feels like an underground, penny-prize boxing match between our main character and his challenger, Spider Rico. After taking a cheap shot, Rocky pulverizes his opponent, which becomes our first glimpse of his boxing prowess, and wins the match. Soon after, the two combatants sojourn to the gymnasium’s locker to collect their dues. After taxes and fees, Rocky earns his petty $40.55. At this point in the film, it’s suggested to us that that’s how Rocky makes his living; a fight here, a fight there. While we find that out to be the case, to an extent, soon thereafter we learn of Rocky’s second job as a collector for street hood Gazzo, as he chases down a docks worker who is avoiding pay. In most circumstances, if ya don’t got the dough, ya gotta get your thumbs broken. It’s sort of Gazzo’s rule of thumb (pun intended). But that’s most circumstances, you see. Rocky’s just not that kind of guy, though he certainly can be. The scene beams a powerful message suggesting our main character’s subtle cry to the audience: I’m better than this. I need more. I can do more. It is at point that the stage becomes set for our compassionate understanding of his “career choice.” It is at this point when we first are coerced to echo to ourselves: We’re with you, Rock. Struggle After the aforementioned Spider Rico fight, we’re taken on a virtual tour of the slummy and ghetto-esque streets of Philadelphia, as Rocky makes his way home. In a sense, we’re given a tour of Rocky’s everyday life, filled with darkness, emptiness, guilt and sorrow. When he finally gets home, it isn’t a wife or child or friend or other family member who greets him at the door; it’s his two domestic turtles, Cuff and Link in whom he confides about his pathetic, bummish existence. He vents, “If you guys could sing and dance, I wouldn’t be doin’ this stuff, you know?” Let’s sigh together. Just like there’s two sides to the working Rocky (fighter and collector), there are two sides to the struggling Rocky (personal and interpersonal). To keep in shape, train and escape, Rocky regulars Mickey’s Gym, run by hard-nosed former boxer Mickey Goldmill (Burgess Meredith). Evidently, Mickey gives Rocky’s locker of six years to someone else, leaving Rocky out, as Mickey put it, “because you had the talent to become a good fighter, and instead you became a leg-breaker for some cheap, second-rate loan shark.” These two separate roads of struggle, ultimately come together in the film in an emotional, uplifting style, as Mickey takes Rocky under his wing (and arguably vice versa) in preparation for the title match only five weeks away. Love Tough, rugged man. Sweat. Boxing. Dark, empty streets. Philadelphia. I mean, let me ask you, “What’s love got to do (got to do) with it?” In this case everything, as it serves as the penultimate reason to strive and, metaphorically, fight. In the morning before the day commences and in the evening prior to its conclusion, Rocky makes his way to a local pet shop, where his love interest and good friend Paulie’s (Burt Young) shy, confidence-lacking sister Adrian (Talia Shire) works. The visit, at times, is to purchase some food or decorative product for Cuff and Link, but mostly, it’s to see Adrian and tell her a joke. Throughout the film, Adrian innocently refuses Rocky’s attempts to engage in conversation or go out. (Sidebar: Isn’t it interesting how even in the simple attempt to ask a dame out on a harmless date, the elements of work and struggle come in to play. I guess that’s love). As the film takes its form, Adrian and Rocky become closer than “peas and carrots” (though their psychologies couldn’t be more different). The emotional feeling conveyed is that Rocky finally has incentive and motivation to leave in the morning and come back in the evening.… Coming back to Earth, Rocky discovers what he’s gotten himself into, as he decides to visit the Philadelphia Spectrum, where the fight is set to take place. The arena is empty, yet prepared for the next evening’s bicentennial title fight. A beautiful scene shot from aerial view shows Rocky as the smallest of beings in a gargantuan arena, designed to suggest that this fight and all he’s gotten involved with is bigger than him. We’re all forced, at that moment, to take a giant gulp together, feeling for our beloved Rocky as he’s about to embark on a journey he, frankly, isn’t cut out for. We’re then taken into Rocky’s home where he awakes Adrian and confesses his fear and his true goal for the fight: to go the distance. After 15 rounds of demolition and the ringing of the final bell, Rocky is left standing. No one’s done that against the champ and after all the work and all the struggle, Rocky seeks his love, shouting, “Adrian!” as she makes her way into the congested ring, where they embrace and express their love. This film, with superb casting, virtuosic acting from top to bottom, took Stallone three days to write the script; months of trying to sell it: twenty-eight days to finally shoot: with only a $1 million budget. If nothing else, Rocky proves a Cinderella story starts with a Cinderella story. Sergei J. Feldman is a writer living in Pittsburgh.
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