THE STORY – A young, determined Sylvester Stallone gets his movie about a scrappy boxer made against all odds.
THE CAST – Anthony Ippolito, AnnaSophia Robb, P.J. Byrne, Toby Kebbell, Tracy Letts, Jay Duplass, Matt Dillon, Stephan James & Kiki Seto
THE TEAM – Peter Farrelly (Director) & Peter Gamble (Screenplay)
THE RUNNING TIME – 127 Minutes
When it opened in 1976, “Rocky” took the world by storm and catapulted its unknown screenwriter and lead actor Sylvester Stallone to perpetual stardom. The improbable story behind that improbably successful film now gets the cinematic treatment in Peter Farrelly’s “I Play Rocky,” which just had its World Premiere at TIFF. “I Play Rocky” never reaches the grandiose moment that propelled the film it chronicles, but it has enough heart, sufficient laughs, and a highly entertaining performance by Tracy Letts to be worth your while.
In the early 1970s, aspiring actor Sylvester Stallone (a strong Anthony Ippolito), who at the time goes by Mike, wants to be an actor. But things are not working out, and he has to resort to appearing in an adult film and sleeping on the streets to survive. Sly is handsome and muscular, so he is typecast and not taken seriously. He attempts to shed this image by discussing “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” with that movie’s producers, but they are equally unmoved. Eventually, his then-girlfriend and later wife Sasha (AnnaSophia Robb) convinces him to write something for himself. A night at the bar watching Muhammad Ali hold off Chuck Wepner in an odds- defying fight inspires the story of Rocky Balboa.
The film’s second act focuses on the back-and-forth between Stallone and executive producer Sandy Maddox (Letts), who refuses to let the screenwriter star in his own movie. This has not been done successfully, film fans are reminded, since Orson Welles. It is during that battle of the wits that Stallone is said to have uttered the phrase that gives Farrelly’s movie its title, declaring “I play Rocky.” We all know how that tug of war turns out, so it is no spoiler to say that, for its final act, the film focuses on making the film on a budget so small it has not shoestrings, as producers Irwin Winkler and Robert Chartoff (P.J. Byrne and Toby Kebbell) lament. Jay Duplass plays director John Avildsen and Stephan James takes the part of Carl Weathers who would, of course, go on to play Appollo Creed.
At its best, “I Play Rocky” is a fascinating movie about how films got made in Hollywood in the seventies. The producers, the executive producers, the unions, the actors who lie about their abilities. The industry’s obsession then with “The Godfather” and how it got made. For good measure, screenwriter Peter Gamble throws in a heavy-handed but entertaining “F*** Paramount” line, courtesy of Letts as Maddox. And just why did they end up in Philadelphia? Why is the ice skating rink empty, and what exactly was Stallone as Balboa punching in the meat locker when he was interviewed by the reporter? Any fan of film will appreciate this delicate balance and wonder how any good story ever comes to the big screen. Whatever one may think of “Rocky” itself, that the project made it as far as it did is a testament to its creator’s grit and sweat.
That, too, is the other part of “I Play Rocky” that works well. Stallone has, of course, a well-known affectation, accent, look, and demeanor. Ippolito’s verisimilitude to Sly is nothing short of impressive. Ippolito conveys a determination that Stallone did not translate as an actor into Balboa. Clearly, Stallone had this level of commitment and belief in himself to stare down a Hollywood mogul offering life-changing money and stay true to his dream of being an actor and appearing in his movie. Stallone’s acting career was never successful, but the fact that he got himself in this film is impressive, and “I Play Rocky” makes you admire this—again, regardless of what one may think of “Rocky” itself.
The, well, rockiest part of this film is its uneven script. In moments, it soars with crowd-pleasing laughter and wit. Letts does most of the work, but so does the excellent supporting cast, including Matt Dillon as Stallone’s distant father. Or Duplass as the irascible director Avildsen is also convincing, avoiding the Hollywood trope of dramatizing directors as divas. At other moments, Gamble’s script trips over the typical wires that define Farrelly’s movies when they strain to please the audience and to create memorable moments. Avildsen explains to Stallone that what distinguishes a bad movie from a good one, and a good one from a great one, is whether it has “the thing.” “The thing” is a “moment.” You do not know what it is, you just know it has to happen to make the picture great. According to Gamble’s script, that “moment” in “Rocky” is when Balboa chases his trainer Mickey Goldmill after talking to and punching a door. I would have made the running scene, the one in which Gamble chooses to end the story.
No matter how you slice it, “I Play Rocky” lacks that “moment,” and the filmmakers’ gamble of telling you their theory for what makes a movie great does not pay off since they are unable to deliver it. There are many other lines in Gamble’s script that do not work, including forced attempts at invoking Jimmy Hoffa, and Sacha’s declaration to Stallone that “anyone can be a writer.” This one is odd, since Gamble litters the mouths of his supposedly working class characters with strange references to things like Mussolini or the Guinness Book of World Records. As it turns out, Stallone himself was a better screenwriter, because his sentimentality and spirit were honest and true to his own. Gamble’s, by contrast, are forced layups meant to elicit laughter.
None of this is to say that “I Play Rocky” is not entertaining for its entire two hour runtime, because it is. The fact that the story is told in three distinct acts works to its benefit, and Ippolito never wavers in his determination, true to the character he embodies. The stakes are low because you know the outcome, but this, too, works to the film’s benefit, as it allow you to sink to the motivations and drivers of its lead characters without wondering whether you will suffer emotional letdown from caring about them. The business of storytelling is a sordid, confusing, darkly comedic business, and this movie knows and conveys that. All of this is enough to make “I Play Rocky” a winner and a delightful movie. It does not reinvent the sports movie or the Hollywood origin story. Instead, it reminds us that these crazy stories endure when they are told from the heart, a proposition that is as corny as “Rocky” itself but is also everlasting because it is such a part of the human experience. It also reminds us that these stories, when told with a genuine belief in the people crazy enough to chase them, become more compelling. Farrelly’s film may not have the punch of “Rocky,” but it has plenty of heart and humor, and sometimes that is enough to get you on your feet—as so many did 50 years ago.
