Rocky IV

By now, even Sylvester Stallone must be getting a little tired of playing Rocky. Not that he isn't relishing the identification with a national icon (between this and Rambo, how much iconizing can one man stand?) In fact, in an astounding little article I saw recently, someone was describing a poll which had been taken of the (presumed) movie-going publiec, in which they were asked to identify which of the following three they "liked" best: Rocky, Rambo, or Stallone. The results? Rambo, Stallone, and then Rocky. What this means I'm not sure. Life imitating art imitating life? The point is that Stallone is quite popular, but every time Rocky opens his mouth these days, it sounds like a self-parody. It may be becoming clear why Stallone is today's foremost action performer: There's no firm evidence anywhere that he's capable of anything else. This picture abounds in little homey touches: Rocky with his kid, Rocky with his wife, Rocky with his car, Rock's kid with his robot, Rocky with his brother-in-law, Rocky's kid with his friends--just like any other multi-millionaire World Heavyweight Champ with the annoying habit of winning repeatedly against impossible odds. Is this Rocky's dream vision of himself? Or is it Stallone's?

But every one of these little touches comes off as forced; this just ain't the Rocky that won America's heart in or whatever vear it was that the original came out. But then, we don't go to see Rocky act endearing, or wallow in material excess, we go to see him whap his opponents' brains out, and naturally, he finglly does. In this picture, he has to reach up a bit to do it; his nemesis Ivan Drago (played by the frighteningly perfect Dolph Lunggren-the only other guy I can see having played The Terminator) is very tall and hits the power machine with 1850 psi (so we are told), way more than the "average" heavyweight. And so the stage is set for the next in a long series of mismatches, but there's more than the title at stake here. Indeed, Rocky gives up the title to have a chance at the towering Ivan. At stake here is personal pride, national pride, and the memory of a departed friend. All that good stuff. How can Rocky lose?

So Rocky goes off to Siberia to train for the big match, using the most primitive of technigues and equipment, while Drago trains in scientific techno-harmony, a team of scientists at his disposal. This is a curious switch (maybe not so curious) since in “Rocky III” it was Clubber Lang who trained in the primitive way, while Rocky surrounded himself with chrome and glitter ('til heading for soul brother training with Apollo). What do we learn here, that chrome is bad? That only getting back to the primitive will redeem us? Maybe it's true, at least in boxing. The picture is a perfect media picture, running exactly 90 minutes, and of course culminating with the big fight. Wham wham wham they hit each other, and blood and sweat fly, and you just cannot help but cheer whem Rocky gets his licks in on the big Russian (at least I couldn't).

So shameless, it makes me want to apologize for being sucked in. But Stallone, as writer and director, trashes the sequence, by inserting cuts to Rocky's kid cheering with his friends back in L. A. (bad attempt at comic/emoticnal relief) and by trying to build tension to the inevitable climax one too many times. And he cops out on what might have been a nice touch: during the match, the anti-Rocky crowd is supposed to slowly be won over to his side. But the only way we are aware of this is by Rocky telling us at the end. It would have been much better if we saw Rocky slowly discovering it himself, and that gx discovery giving him the strength to win.

But I guess you can effectively stage ogly so many climactic fights in a career without messing up. As always in the Rocky pictures, the training scenes are the best part, though here the ones of Rocky running through Siberia in a big leather jacket and boots look a little ridiculous; how could you move with all that stuff on? The ones inside are much more compelling and include a stunt of fitness that I still don't understand. (Another thing I don't understand--after all these films--is how they get the blows in the fight to look so real. The fight choneography is still superb, even if scenes of Rocky reeling punch drunk around the ring are getting a bit boring. Probably it's partly the sound; it sounds like every boxing glove in the picture has a little microphone ing it--every blow with a perfect POW--just the ping-pong-paddle-Naugahyde-sofa routine raised to a higher level, I guess.) It's too bad Stallone messes up the big fight; in the middle rounds, when the grudge starts building up it really gets exciting.

But the training sequence of Drago includes another mystery: a scene of him getting some sort of injection. What is it? Steroids (which were alluded to earlier) Or vitamins? Or what? It is never alluded to again, so what is it's meaning? It would have mattered if Rocky lost, so we'd have the excuse that the Russians cheated, but Rocky wins anyway, so it just doesn't make any sense. But the most effective sequence for me was the series of flashbacks to the earlier films, especially number orie, which looks like a gem (and is) in comparison to the current one. Things just go awry here and there. In losing Apollo Creed (I'm not giving much away here, don't worry) the films lose their most witty and charismatic presence. By humanizing Drago just before nis defeat, Stallone dilutes a nearly perfect villainous foe. And Rocky's descent into political commentary at the end (when by all rights he should be 1850 psi dead) is more than just simple and ridiculous--it is embarrassing. Can there be more to this? Or is this the passing of an American idol--one who fought his way to the top, and then became boring? Rocky is a bourgeois champion now: he is rich, his wife is lovely, and he goes off to win one for nothing much more than the love of his country. The personal goals seem pale, and they were the ones that made him so real. There are some funny bits in this picture, and some catchy scenes, but the guestions are left. Wherefore art thou, O Rocky of old? And who are you going to fight next, Rambo?