From Wallace Beerg's boozing Champ
to Robert De Niro's Raging Bull to Denzel
Washington's knockout performance in The Hurricane,
Oscar falls for the sweet science
John Garfield tries to explain
to his mother why the fix is in. Robert Ryan refuses to
lose as his trainer slinks away. Jimmy Cagney staggers
around the ring, blinded by the resin on his opponent's
gloves. Paul Newman tells his trainer, "I'm going
to go out in this round and bust his head open."
The mangled Sylvester Stallone mouths "I love
you," to Talia Shire. The bloodied Robert De Niro
taunts his victor, "I never went down, Ray, you
never got me down."
To those scenes, we can now add
Denzel Washington as Rubin Carter in The Hurricane,
unleashing all his rage on Joey Giardello. There are
enough memorable rounds in boxing movies to fill a
thousand cards. Since Thomas Edison put Gentleman Jim
Corbett in front of his camera in 1894, more than 400
fight films have been released, exponentially more than
any other sport.
Part of the reason is
practical: It's far easier filming a fight scene in a
ring than it is a baseball or football game, and the
action can carry the movie. But the real fascination is
with the beauty of the beast. Legendary sportswriter
Jimmy Cannon called boxing "the red-light district
of sports." There's that aspect, but there are also
the eternal paradoxes of boxing's angry dream: innocence
and corruption, opportunity and rejection, pride and
prejudice, the glory and the gutter. And don't forget
the leather and the blood.
Almost every leading man worth
his mouthpiece has played a boxer. Here's just a partial
list of actors who have slipped on the gloves: Charlie
Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Buster Crabbe, Curly Howard,
Danny Kaye, Fred MacMurray, Errol Flynn, Clark Gable,
Burt Lancaster, John Wayne, John Payne, Robert Mitchum,
Robert Taylor, Tony Curtis, Anthony Quinn, William
Holden, Leonard Nimoy, Ricardo Montalban, Elvis Presley,
Gerard Depardieu, Alain Delon, Jacques Tati, Ryan
O'Neal, Clint Eastwood, Mickey Rooney, Mickey Rourke,
Jon Voight, Stacy Keach, Jeff Bridges, Tom Cruise, Damon
Wayans - even Ingrid Bergman did a little boxing
in The Bells of St. Mary.
Given the quantity and the
quality of the list, it's a little surprising that only
eight actors in boxing roles have been nominated for
Academy Awards. (Actually, it would be nine if you count
Victor McLaglen, a former heavyweight who went six
rounds with Jack Johnson and won an Oscar for 1935's The
Informer.) In retrospect, Cagney (City for
Conquest), Newman (Somebody Up There Likes Me),
Quinn (Requiem for a Heavyweight), Ryan (The
Set-Up), Cameron Mitchell (Monkey on My Back),
and Keach (Fat City) all should have gotten
nominations. But as much as Hollywood loves boxing, the
Academy tends to relegate boxing actors to Oscar's
undercard. Here, then, are the eight (before Washington)
who broke through.
"I'm gonna lay off the
booze - word of honor. I'm not gonna gamble
anymore." - Wallace Beery to his son (Jackie
Cooper) in The Champ (1931)
The setting was a racetrack,
and the plot, in which an ex-heavyweight champion
battles bottle, betting, and better fighters to hang on
to the son who 'is devoted to him, could have easily
turned to mud. But under the direction of King Vidor,
Beery and Cooper were so affecting as the Champ and Dink
that everyone left the theater crying. The climactic
scene, in which Dink watches his father die, is one of
the great tearjerkers of all time.
At the Academy Award ceremonies
for 1931-32, Fredric March had already been presented
with the Best Actor award for his dual role in Dr.
Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but when an Academy official
recounted the votes, he discovered that Beery was just
one vote shy, which, according to the rules, was close
enough to declare a tie. The award validated the career,
r of the larger-than-life and louder-than-a-foghorn
Beery, who had started out in the circus and made his
name in comedy.
"There is a design in
everything. You were meant to be a champion. You
are." - Claude Rains to Robert Montgomery in Here
Comes Mr. Jordan (1941)
This was hardly the gritty
drama that would come to define the boxing genre. Here
Comes Mr. Jordan is a metaphysical comedy in which
Montgomery plays Joe Pendleton, a saxophone-playing,
airplane-flying heavyweight whose soul is plucked away
by a rookie angel just before his plane crashes. But
then the angel's superior, Mr. Jordan (Rains), informs
him that Joe would actually have lived and become
heavyweight champ, so they set about finding a
replacement vessel. Montgomery, who lost out to Gary
Cooper (Sergeant York) as Best Actor, was
something of a Renaissance man himself and the father of
"Bewitched"'s Elizabeth Montgomery. A gifted
comedian, he was not very convincing as a boxer - he
just didn't have the physique. But then this was less
about the sweet science and more about sweet chariots.
If you've seen Warren Beatty in
Heaven Can Wait (1978), you'll recognize the
plot, with the action transferred to the football field.
But the ting seems the better venue for the story, if
only because in boxing, the body is more disposable than
in other sports. As the angel, played by Edward Everett
Horton, points out, "Your body! After all, what is
it? Just a physical covering, that's all--worth
chemically 32 cents."
"What are you gonna do,
kill me? Everybody dies." - John Garfield to
the gangster in Body and Soul (1947)
Until Raging Bull came
along, this was the boxing movie to which all other
boxing movies had to answer, and for good reason.
Garfield plays Charlie Davis, a Jewish prizefighter
whose mother just wants him to get a good job. But when
his father is killed, Charlie turns pro and rises to the
top, beating real-life welterweight Canada Lee in the
title fight. Charlie also falls into the clutches of a
gangster and a floozy, but redeems himself in the end by
winning a fight in which he's being double-crossed.
Garfield financed the movie
himself and literally risked his life, reportedly
suffering both a concussion and a heart attack during
filming. The realism of the fight scenes was heightened
by cinematographer James Wong Howe, who donned roller
skates to better capture the action. Thanks to the
gritty plot, the gutsy performances, and the pioneering
camera work, Body and Soul ushered in a golden-glove age
of boxing movies.
Still, Garfield lost out to
Ronald Colman in the melodramatic A Double Life.
Garfield did die of a heart attack a few years later. He
was no doubt sparring in his grave when another boxing
movie called Body and Soul was released in 1981,
starring Leon Isaac Kennedy. The only redeeming thing
about that one was a cameo by Muhammad Ali.
"Nice guys don't make
money." - Kirk Douglas in Champion
(1949)
Midge Kelly is not a nice guy.
Based on the story by Ring Lardner, Champion
traces Midge's rise from serving food in a California
roadside cafe to middleweight champion. He also abandons
his wife, ditches his trainer, gets mixed up with the
Mob, and beats up his disabled brother. The power of
Douglas' performance is so great that his victory at the
end feels like our victory.
Douglas was a collegiate
wrestler and was thoroughly convincing in the ting,
especially in the spectacular fight that closes the
movie. And while the Oscar went to Broderick Crawford
for All the King's Men, Champion made
Douglas a star. To this day, you can hear Midge braying,
"For the first time in my life, people cheering for
me."
"I coulda had class. I
coulda been a contender. I coulda been somebody--instead
of a bum, which is what I am..." - Marlon
Brando to his brother Charley in On the Waterfront
(1954)
Brando never sets foot in the
ting in the movie. But his Terry Malloy is still one of
the most believable fighters to inhabit the screen.
Directed by Elia Kazan and written by Budd Schulberg,
the Oscar-winning Waterfront is the story of an
ex-boxer who once took a dive before ultimately standing
up to a much bigger opponent.
There are a few real boxers in
the movie, including Two-Ton Tony Galento, who, after
watching a snitch get thrown off a roof, utters the
immortal line, "[The canary] could sing but he
couldn't fly." But the most evocative scene takes
place in a cab, as Terry reminds Charley (Rod Steiger)
of the time he told him, "Kid, this ain't your
night. We're going for the price on Wilson`"
At the urging of Father Barry
(Karl Malden) and Edie Doyle (Eva Marie-Saint), and
after the murder of his brother, Terry exposes the evil
of the dock union before a crime commission. Because
Kazan and Schulberg testified before the House Committee
on Un-American Activities, there is an element of
self-justification in the plot. Still, you can't help
buying Brando's "one-way ticket to palookaville."
"He bulls me up against
the tent side of the ring and slam, wham...and he must
have used a two-by-four.... That's what I'm gettin', and
I'm gonna get it the same saying yes or no so it don't
matter what I do." - James Earl Jones in The
Great White Hope (1970)
Jack Jefferson is loosely based
on Jack Johnson, the charismatic and persecuted black
heavyweight whose exploits polarized America in the
1910s. The Great White Hope gets to the heart of
the racial divide, telling the tragic story of Jefferson
(Jones) and his white mistress, a role that earned Jane
Alexander an Oscar nod in her first screen role. (Jones
lost to George C. Scott in Patton; Alexander to Glenda
Jackson in Women in Love.) The movie is based on Howard
Sackler's free-verse play of the same name, and it's
always felt a little too theatrical. Still, Jones is
pretty good as a boxer; his own father, after all, was a
prizefighter. What he really captures is the magnetism
of the great heavyweights. Just as no other sport
produces more movies, no other sport has produced more
demigods, from Johnson to Jack Dempsey to Joe Louis to
Rocky Marciano to Ali to George Foreman to Mike Tyson.
"You got to be a moron
to be a fighter." - Sylvester Stallone in Rocky
(1976)
It's too bad Rocky Balboa
became such a bungalow industry for Stallone, because
there's a sweet, fairy-tale quality to the original that
had audiences on their feet. Stallone himself is funny,
winning, and real. The boxing, however, is a comic strip
of Pow! and Bam! that obliterates the art that the
directors of the cinematic fisticuffs of the '40s and
'50s created. But you're more than willing to go along
with the emotions expressed by Bill Conti's rousing
score.
Stallone, who was beaten by Network's
Peter Finch for Best Actor, wrote the script in three
days, inspired by the career of tomato can Chuck Wepner.
Following in the best tradition of "Casey at the
Bat," he had the courage to let Rocky lose.
Unfortunately, that led to Rockys II-V, and
challengers Mr. T, Hulk Hogan., and Dolph Lundgren.
"What'd I do? What'd I
do?" - Robert De Niro after taking a dive in Raging
Bull (1980)
Raging Bull, based on
the rise and fall of Jake La Motta, had elements of all
the great boxing movies before it: the moral dilemma of
Body and Soul, the savagery of Champion, the
relentless climb of Somebody Up There Likes Me,
the deliverance of The Set-Up. De Niro threw
himself into the role, getting in such fighting trim
that La Motta claimed he could turn pro. Then De Niro
put on 60 pounds to portray him in later life. For his
daring performance, he won the Best Actor Oscar--the
first actor in trunks to win it outright.
Director Martin Scorsese
matched De Niro's brilliance frame by black-and-white
flame. The most brutal shot in a brutal movie was a
simple pan to blood dripping from the ropes. If you
claimed this was the best sports movie ever, or the best
movie of the '80s (even though it lost to Ordinary
People), you would get no argument here. La Motta
himself paid the movie its most telling tribute:
"When I first saw the movie I didn't like it. So
one day I went to see it with my ex-wife...I said to
her, 'Was I really like that?' She said I was
worse."
Maybe because Raging Bull
scared other directors off, or because the fight game
itself is less compelling than it used to be, there
weren't many boxing films from 1980 to 1999. Given the
success of The Hurricane, that may change. Once
again, we can sense the sacrifices a man will make so
his angry dream can come true. We can see the blood on
the screen, yet we can't look away.