After all, why is it that, growing up in the late 80’s/early 90’s most people knew Babe Ruth as much for being a self-destructive boozer as much as they did for him being a baseball player? And why was this not mentioned in “The Babe Ruth Story?” Instead, they chose to focus on bedside visits to sick kids making promises of homeruns in their honor and one particularly corny scene where he hits a dog named Pee Wee with a line drive then leaves the game to take him to a human hospital and demand treatment. So negative was my reaction to this film when I saw it as a nine-year-old boy that my ass still hurts to this day. My point is, I always wondered when biopics, especially sports ones, stopped lying and started being honest, gritty and credible, but I have a feeling it may have started with “Raging Bull.” As if I didn’t have enough to thank Martin Scorsese for I can now add the fact that he seems to have perfected my favorite film genre to the list.
Even though the main character, Jake LaMotta (Robert De Niro) was a boxer, the film is mainly dialogue-driven and depicts very little (in ring) pugilism, though it does appropriately open with Jake in a boxing ring, presumably at his height. There is a strange mist surrounding him, sort of implying a possible dream-sequence, flashback or even an afterlife scenario; any of which are possibilities when you consider the shambles his life seems to be in when the actual narrative begins. LaMotta is a has-been doing a cheap vaudeville show, seems a little punchy and out of shape, and is reliving his glory days through monologue.
Flashback some 20 years earlier, Jake is shown in his prime, fighting a boxer named Jimmy Reeves in Cleveland. The announcers are very quick to point out that the fight is nearly over and that LaMotta is undefeated up to that point. Despite the fact that Jake is dominating the final round, the fight ends with Reeves being saved by the bell and winning by decision. Though we only have a passing comment from a commentator to indicate that Jake is behind on points to go off, the audience reaction to Reeves being announced the winner and LaMotta receiving his first career loss indicates a grave injustice.
The presentation of the fight scenes is incredibly unique in some aspects and downright silly in others. The amplification of the sound of the punches gives you a very “feeling every shot” sort of connection to the scenes, as well as the rhythmic pulsing sounds. However, there are some seemingly unnecessary approaches that are taken, such as a bizarre zoom shot of Jake in his corner as well as a lot of overly dramatic and clichéd flashbulb pops. The most redeeming characteristic of the in-match scenes though lies in the sort of over-the-shoulder camera angles that are used. Older films used a horrible point-of-view, 1st person perspective, while more recent movies have opted for a documentary style wide-shot approach. “Raging Bull” is completely unique in its depiction of boxing matches, largely because of the “both sides” approach of showing close-ups of the action on alternating characters.
The introductions to Jake’s family and home life indicate that, though he is a successful boxer, it was not in the same economic echelon as other professional middleweights of the time, or just not as good with his money. Rather than a legitimate manager, he is represented by his brother Joey (Joe Pesci) who does genuinely love his brother (despite Jake’s borderline abusive taunting) but may not necessarily be the most qualified person to guide his career. In case you are wondering, yes, Joe Pesci does play Joe Pesci; though there is a little more humanity in this role than we are used to seeing from him.
Jake’s relationship with his wife Irma is also a telling allegory for his life. They live in a cramped New York City apartment (the kind where you neighbors yell at you through the window because they are close enough to do that). Jake is the stereotypical epitome of a male brute; he wears the wife-beater, complains about how his steak isn’t bloody enough and smashes furniture to the point that we are to understand he is probably physically abusive. As if we need any more evidence that this marriage is a failure, we see Jake pursue (successfully) a trampy fifteen year old named Vickie (Cathy Moriarty) who ends up being his second wife. There is very little background given as to the fading out of Erma and the integration of Vickie, but I think the abrupt end to the apartment fight scene is meant to symbolically imply the demise of their marriage.
One of the most innovative sequences in the film we see a series of fights against the legendary Sugar Ray Robinson. In the first match Jake pounds Robinson unmercifully (including a really great tracking shot of Jake circling around Robinson like a predatory animal) and ends his undefeated streak. The very brief fight scene then cuts to a scene of Jake and Vickie almost having sex but stopping short because of the long-held belief that fighters in training need to conserve their strength, then cuts back to a rematch with Robinson which Jake loses under seemingly suspect circumstances (Joey blames it on a bias because Robinson is joining the Army amidst World War II, which would typically seem like an excuse but judging from the post fight discussions it seems Jake knocked Robinson down more often which would almost invariably make him the winner on points).
“I've done a lot of bad things, Joey. Maybe it's comin' back to me. Who knows? I'm a jinx maybe.” (Jake LaMotta, “Raging Bull”)
During this back-and-forth segment there is a very interesting artistic tool employed involving ice. Be it Jake pouring ice on his junk to make him unable to have sex with Vickie or using it to soak his swollen hand after his 2nd fight with Sugar Ray- the presence of ice is important because it is symbolically used strictly when Jake is outside the ring; which is seemingly representative of his personality when he is not boxing, as we see him as cold, abusive, jealous and harsh in most of his “real-world” interactions. Also, this transition between boxing and normal life is a clever way to avoid showing too much boxing all at once for people who may be watching for the biographical narrative and may not necessarily be interested in boxing as a sport.
The next few years are told through 8mm home movie footage (the only color in the film) documenting Jake and Vickie’s courtship interspersed with still black and white photos of Jake’s fights, all of which appear to be victories. This not only advances the narrative without showing us mundane details but also indicates that Jake’s clearer focus is his private life while his career is less important. However, as the film progresses his feelings for Vickie end up creating disturbing demons for Jake, as he becomes more and more obsessed with the notion that she is cheating on him, so much so that it ends up destroying his relationship with Joey, who he accuses of sleeping with Vickie; unwilling to believe either one of them he ends up savagely beating them both- Vickie takes him back, Joey does not.
It is no coincidence that Jake’s life spirals out of control without his obscenely devoted brother at his side. He wins his next fight (barely), eventually loses his Middleweight Title to his arch-rival Sugar Ray Robinson after being so physically dissected that his blood splatters the ringside reporters and flows down his legs like a waterfall. The next time we see Jake he is fat, miserable and doing a crass nightclub show where he embarrasses himself on a regular basis, Vickie leaves him and takes their children with her and in an ironic twist of fate, ends up in legal trouble involving underage girls (mirroring his initial pursuit of Vickie). Jake’s total downfall culminates in a complete breakdown in a jail cell that I can only describe as uncomfortable to watch.
In the final moments of the film, Jake has a half-assed reconciliation with Joey, lands what seems like a regular job on the vaudeville circuit and enjoys something short of redemption but slightly better than rock bottom-which again serves as a metaphor for his entire life with Joey. In the end it is clear that Jake’s level of happiness and success is completely paralleled by his relationship with his brother. The last shot is of Jake pep-talking himself in a dressing room mirror; which was used to great effect and to represent the same point in Dirk Diggler’s life in the final scene of “Boogie Nights,” though thankfully I didn’t have to see a prosthetic schlong in this movie.
The complaints I have about this film are minor; I don’t like the way Jake’s decline is abbreviated so harshly, there are certain plot elements that could have been explored to greater detail (particularly an incident where Jake is suspended from competing for throwing a fight) and I don’t necessarily get why some of the fights are filmed in slow motion, some in a double-time “Rambo IV” sort of style and some still not even shown at all, but I assume it has something to do with Jake’s mental state in each respective fight. Also, while I take no issue with it, I don’t understand the necessity for the film to be in black and white unless it is just to give it more of a documentary feel, but I think the film would have been equally powerful either way.
Do I really even need to talk about the pairing of Scorsese and De Niro? I think in many ways this is Scorsese’s most experimental film though it does still contain all the things I love about his movies; shady characters, heavy symbolism and New York. De Niro is clearly not wearing a fat suit as he is only half dressed in most of the latter-day scenes and was clearly in shape for the fight scenes- which shows a real commitment to immersing himself in the part. By the end of the movie he is literally unrecognizable. Though by far the element that sticks out with me the most is the not sad, not happy but just “as good as it is going to get” ending. I don’t like to be bullshitted or have my intelligence insulted with contrived or forced endings and this film does neither. I almost feel as if an underlying premise of the movie not pulling any punches is an intentionally silly pun. At least I hope that has crossed someone else's mind...
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