Rocky III - 1982
A thought occurred to me as I was re-watching Rocky III for the first time in many moons with a group of young male students last evening. The film franchise has a real interesting see-sawing effect. Though the two aren't mutually exclusive, we can in some ways in this context put art on one end and entertainment on the other. Schoolyard kids know the formula - one rises, the other falls.
There's a sliding scale where the first film has a big old boy plopping down on the art end of the beam. The first film is a true classic, masterfully done, and extremely artistic. It's not to say it's not riveting, simply that the focus is on world-building, myth-making and an underdog's tale. The sequel doubles down on some of this stuff (see my review on that film for more), but ratchets up the fun factor. More time is spent in the ring in II and the running montage rises to a whole new level. In other words, what I'm arguing is that these films may get less imaginative and inspired as they go along, but they make up for it with an added pure FUN factor. Thus, we land on Rocky III, an endlessly rewatchable thrill ride that begins turning up the dial on the ridiculous elements that reach a fever pitch in the subsequent film.
The youth around me helped me realize this. I had completely forgotten Rocky's showy exhibition with Hulk Hogan (aka Thunderlips). It's ten minutes of pure absurdity which is such a rush, and honestly slides into the realm of slapstick. Our little theatre group was howling. Of course, viewers will recall that some of these same comical moments return in Rocky vs. Lang II at the film's conclusion. This fight is vastly different than the other pictures, and it's all the more joyous for it.
Of course, Rocky III does try to introduce some dramatic elements like its predecessors. He's on top of the world now. Rock not only stars in commercials without bungling his lines, he flashes his pristine mug at every camera he sees. He embraces the fanfare around being the rich star with the mansion and the golf cart, the billboards and the excess. In essence, as many viewers will note, he has become Apollo. He's lost his edge (Apollo calls it his "hunger." He then goes on to use the phrase "eye of the tiger" so many times my head almost exploded. But hey, I guess the formula works).
Enter Clubber Lang. A newer kind of Rocky, rising from the bottom, training alone in dingy gyms with that fire in his eyes. The difference is this...Clubber Lang is a monster. He talks trash, pushes trainers, and rages on cameramen. In other words, the film franchise has found its first perfect villain. Nevermind the fact that Lang would have been tossed out of a ton of these fights for his extracurricular antics (His lack of DQ's is just one nod towards the coming ridiculousness). The point is he's jacked and mean and entirely ready to dethrone an aging champ more focused on his empire than his next opponent.
There are other meanderings along the way as well. The side plot with Mickey is genuinely moving and affecting. Paulie is still hanging around the edges of these pictures, equal parts curmudgeon and loyal backer. He's got a nice tete-a-tete with Rocky in the film's opening minutes. But in my mind, none of this stuff really works as well as the original and first sequel, EXCEPT for one character - Adrian Balboa.
Though this is the second worst film of the original five on the whole, the speech Adrian gives Rocky on the beach may be my favorite single moment in the whole film series. It is simply a masterclass of writing and emphatic acting. I thought about tossing a few quotes into this review, but quite frankly there are too many. It's all of a piece, and it's all goosebump-creating. The small follicles on your arms will rise with a chill. For in five minutes we witness not only the love and commitment between these two, but Adrian's transformation from a shy, pet shop girl to a fighter's wife, as hard-nosed out of the ring as her husband is in it. She challenges him to look inside himself and face his fear. Sure, it's moviemaking tropes, but it's also a gut punch of the best kind. And for a woman who spends much of II and IV being a variation of a wet blanket, this is a welcome respite.
That is as good a place to end as any, for this is the summation of Rocky III. A film about a champion being tested and having to reach deep inside to see "what he's really made of." The birth of a new partnership and style. Sure, it's all trope-heavy sports film cliches. But it's also generous helpings of charisma and pure fist-bumping entertainment. It's enough to score another franchise belt defense for writer/director Sylvester Stallone.
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