Rocky, Rocking On

The Rocky series is a very powerful one, critics be damned-because Sylvester Stallone wrote a story that's obviously from the heart. And that's what makes great fighters like boxers such legendary inspirations, despite how one can't quite understand what goes on inside the ring can be connected to one's life.

Having been a big fan of the franchise, I didn't think Sylvester Stallone could pull off a sixth Rocky installment. After all, Rocky I premiered in 1976. That's 31 years ago, in case you're trying to do the math. How a boxer spans a 30-year career is beyond me, even if Sylvester Stallone, whom I last saw plenty of in the first season of The Contender, still looks pretty beefed up for his age. Rocky Balboa was a struggling 30-year-old boxer-already a never-was has-been, really-in the first film. A discussion on Imdb.com puts his age at 56-58 in Rocky Balboa, based on the timeline set by Rocky I and its succeeding sequels. Sylvester Stallone himself was already 59 during filming.

But because I invested a lot of emotions in the Rocky franchise, I put Rocky Balboa on top of my must-see list. I was apprehensive; it's often not a good thing to over-extend what has already become a good memory. No use stirring things up when you've already made a good, lasting impression. And what else could Stallone, a big fan of boxing, say about the sport that hasn't been said before on reality TV and more recent films like Ali, Million-Dollar Baby and Cinderella Man? Trust Stallone to come up with something. The way he came up with Rocky, now one of the greatest underdog movies of all time, three decades ago. In Rocky Balboa, which he wrote and directed, Stallone explores even deeper what it means to be a true fighter. In this film, the Italian Stallion is already a widower and the owner of a small Italian restaurant where diners come to listen to his old boxing stories. Adrian had succumbed to cancer-yet another part of the old glorious past that Rocky keeps clinging to, to the irritation of his long-time friend and brother-in-law, the ever-cynical Paulie (still portrayed by Burt Young).

When a computer-generated fight in an ESPN television show balloons into an opportunity for Rocky to get out of his rut, he pursues it with the intensity of, er, Stallone selling the first film to doubting studio big-wigs. Rocky gets a permit to fight after a surprising, slurred, but nevertheless persuasive speech about his "right to pursuit happiness" to the boxing commission that had initially denied his appeal. For that, he had to get a clean bill of health after a barrage of medical tests-putting to rests concerns from Rocky V, where, apart from being declared bankrupt, he was also diagnosed with brain damage. Agents of the current heavyweight champion, Mason "The Line" Dixon, looking for a good image-saving PR stunt, soon signs Rocky up for a match to echo the computer-generated one.

Rocky's new millennium struggle was, like the rest of the property, very inspiring. I shouldn't have been surprised-this was Stallone's project from the heart, his "come alive" baby. "I gotta go out the way I gotta go out," says Rocky. Of course, it doesn't hurt that his signature theme, "Gonna Fly Now" plays all throughout his training sequence.

There's another moment for Rocky: When his son, with whom he has an estranged relationship, blames Rocky's big shadow for the way his life is, and angrily asks him to stop the fight because not only had he been the offspring that didn't quite shine, he would now be part of a laughable ending, Rocky gives him an impassioned speech about how Rocky, Jr. had forgotten who he was, and having done so, had allowed other people to define him. This made him frustrated, says Rocky, and his frustration sought someone to blame, and Junior had easily ended up blaming his father, as most people do. Then he tells him, "You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't how hard you hit; it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward. How much you can take, and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done. Now, if you know what you're worth, then go out and get what you're worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hit, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you are because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain't you. You're better than that!"

His son snaps out of it after that confrontation, and ends up being with Rocky at ringside. I love this part of the story, mostly because it affirms something I've realized more and more to be true, a Howard Thurman quote that I first mentioned here when I wrote about Happy Feet: "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive." I guess that's how Rocky changed his relationship with his son-he went back to fighting, because it's what makes him most alive. It's why the Rocky series is a very powerful one, critics be damned-because Stallone wrote a story that's obviously from the heart. And I suppose that's what makes great fighters like boxers such legendary inspirations, despite how one can't quite understand how what goes on inside the ring can be connected to one's life.