TITLE: Review: Rocky Balboa (2006) AUTHOR: Joe Johnson DATE: 5:21:00 PM ----- BODY:
Dir: Sylvester Stallone

In literature, the thing that survives is character: Captain Ahab, Scout, Huck Finn, Odysseus, etc. Television has its correlations – the pivotal character that becomes more important than plot. Consider the likes of Barney Fife, Archie Bunker, and Mr. Spock. Rocky is that sort of iconic character that merges popularity and literary depth – something of a cross between Cheers’s Sam Malone and Beowulf.

The power of this unlikely character remains embedded in his simplicity – Rocky is a likeable, unpretentious man who feels more than he says, who fights with a champion’s heart and a hero’s integrity. His simplicity is often confused with slowness, but that would be a mistake – nearly as large a mistake as assuming that Stallone’s embodiment of the character is anything less significant than the Bard’s projection of Prince Hamlet.


The opening of Rocky Balboa is all character - the story of living nostalgia. Rocky is neither forgotten nor disregarded, just resigned to that place of affection or trivia. Had this film not been preceded by the five earlier films, critics might be talking of the understated, perfectly spirited portrait of an aging man settling his past and accepting his future – moving from glory to contentment. They might also acknowledge that Stallone’s acting is as natural, precise and appropriate as any we’ve seen in some time. The Rocky of pop culture has been imitated for thirty years. But Stallone’s Rocky is living, subtle and fresh.

Unfortunately, Stallone’s direction is not nearly as honed. Rocky Balboa moves from a great film to a good film in the course of one montage. Then, in an exhibition fight, it moves from good film to an inspirational, seasonal movie (not that there’s anything wrong with that). The larger the plot grows, the greater the movie shrinks. Perhaps, it’s because once a decision is made to train for a climactic fight, the rest of the movie is automatically written. That part – the test of Rocky’s determination in a boxing ring – has already been done. Unfortunately, we don’t get to see the real story continue – Rocky’s determination toward a new era in life.

The match undoes much of what is successful throughout the rest of the film. First, it forces Stallone to make artistic decisions that counteract the warmth of the previous story. He combines HBO television graphics, Raging Bull-esque black and white shots, flashbacks and Gatorade/Pleasantville techniques. Most importantly, it becomes another movie. All through that match we lose the real battles: will Rocky move on in his life, past Adrian and mid-life? What conflict will arise between his real son and his surrogate son? Can he grow into a civic and community leader confronting the demise of “South Philly”? Are we all defined by our youth or are we able to find new definitions – to redirect our character and ethic from one field into another?

But despite that disappointing third act, Rocky Balboa remains uniquely able to excite an audience. Anyone who doesn’t cheer for him, who doesn’t want to call him “champ,” doesn’t have a heart. And until the boxing match is set, Stallone -the actor - gives one of the finer performances of his career. Stallone - the director - offers a film that is almost serious about dealing with the aging of the Baby Boomers. Although it’s tempting to think about what could have been, the Rocky Balboa that we get is still a strong, entertaining and inspiring movie.

***1/2 of *****

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