Rocky
In a bizarrely unusual turn of events, I tried to get my family to watch a high quality, Oscar winning film that did not involve anyone wielding a sword or making unrefusable offers.
I will never forget that
Rocky won the best picture Oscar in
1976, because of uttering the line, “that kind of movie never wins,” and causing
our team to miss an important wedge question in an Up the Lake Trivial Pursuit
game.
Sorry about that Linda.
The fact that it was
also a love story was far too strange to even bring up.
My daughter had a great
dislike of boxing in general. My wife had
the same opinion, plus was no fan of Stallone.
There would be a fight
well before Balboa donned his gloves.
Still I persevered, and
after surviving multiple Disney Channel “comedies” and watching far more bridal
dress fittings than any man should have to live through, they relented.
The film opened with the
artistically composed shot in the low rent gym establishing tone, character and
setting in one fell swoop.
This prompted my
daughter to exclaim, even before the camera came in full focus,
“There’s too much boxing
in this movie.”
Clearly, there were
hurdles to overcome.
As the characters
interacted and the plot progressed, the educational value of the film surfaced.
For example, I was able
to teach my daughter what a loan shark was.
She also got a crash course in stickball, including the answer to the
question, “Why don’t they play on a field?”
Perhaps she’s growing up
a bit too sheltered.
A different kind of
learning occurred internally as she figured out why Mickey was being “so mean”
to Rocky, based on expectations, potential and opportunities.
She may understand why
I’m such a pain in the butt about her checking and revising schoolwork now.
As the story unfolded,
there was a definite shift as she remained very attentive and patient with both
the heated and even the quiet scenes. On
the other couch, I noticed my wife spending more time peeking around the newspaper
than hiding behind it.
It wasn’t a total
success, while she enjoyed his relationship with Butkis, (and she “knew” he’d
get a puppy) my daughter made the same “EEEEEWWWWW!” noise when Rocky kissed
Adrian that she did when he drank the raw eggs.
She’s willing to dance for
hours on end but hates sports because “it’s a different kind of sweat.” This
gave her some rather vocal reactions to the training sequence.
The one armed push-ups
were greeted with a simple, “Good grief.”
The multiple varieties
of sit ups, however, caused a louder and stronger, “Oh God!”
At the climax of the
film, thanks to the magnetic storytelling and the appeal of the characters,
both women in my family who were completely opposed to boxing in principle,
were focused on and invested in the championship fight.
The final educational
value of the movie appeared at the start of the fifteenth and final round.
My daughter turned to me
full of excitement and said:
“He did what he set out
to do.”
She got it!
Following “Yo, Adrian!
We did it!” she and I grabbed some sets of over padded toy boxing gloves I had
bought years before, in case the need arose Up the Lake again. We spent much of the rest the night in
various simulations of the sport she decreed the first second of the film had
too much of, while her converted Mother cheered her on and took pictures.
The sequel began with
the exact same fight we had just seen a week before. My daughter watched it intently a second
time. No bad for a kid that didn’t like
boxing.
She was constantly asking
when Rocky would get better, and what day they would “fix him.” Similar to other series, holding a box set
with four other films in it killed some of the suspense.
My wife was on some
strong painkillers, but still followed along despite the loopy pills. They may
have enhanced her extended and strong, “Awwwwwwww!” at the wedding scene.
Questions once again
came from my child indicating she was sheltered:
“He doesn’t know how to
drive?”
However, she also picked
things up very quickly:
“What if he doesn’t get
any money?”
*depressed look of
realization*
“Oooooh.”
They both were glued
with rapt attention to the drama surrounding Adrian’s medical condition, expressing
increasing concern until my daughter was practically screaming at me, “You told
me he fights in every movie!”
My wife’s narcotic
enhanced puppy face added to the tirade.
It’s interesting to note
Apollo establishes himself in the second film, even more so than the first, as
willing to do or say anything, to the point of compromising his own image, to
remain in the lime light. This attitude
pretty much defined his character for the arc he continued on through Rocky III and Rocky IV.
Once the “Just win”
moment passed my formerly anti-pugilistic family members both enthusiastically
followed along for the ride.
My daughter cheered for
the chicken, not only when Rocky caught it, but also in general.
“Ooh! A chicken!”
That’s my girl.
My wife had given up the
newspaper entirely while Rocky trained (again, pills may be to blame for this) and
was laughing considerably at Mickey’s great lines, showing she still knew what
was going on.
The fight was finally
underway, and I can proudly say that my child now knows where,
“The Body, the body, the
body, Aaaaahhhhh! “
Came from, which she
heard every time her old man saw any kind of fisticuffs.
Another observation of
my own:
They made a huge deal
about how The Italian Stallion was fighting right handed in the second movie,
as opposed to his standard southpaw, as he did in the first title fight.
However, considering his
main boxing style seemed to be built around leading with his face for several
rounds, followed by plowing in hurling hooks with both hands, I’m not sure how
the commentators noticed any change.
The two non-boxing fan
ladies I live with were actively cheering by round ten.
(Minus the occasional,
“Eeeewww, blood!” of course.)
As the end drew near, my
sweet little girl was yelling:
“GO GO GO WIN!”
While my conflict averse
wife was joining in with:
“HIT EM! HIT EM!”
Both “YAY”ed aloud at
the final punch, then began to cheer Rocky to stand up.
The power of these characters
is really amazing isn’t it?
My daughter once again
displayed excitement, but also understanding of the world they’d started to enjoy by
saying:
“Yay he wins in this one.
What a mess, again.
Oh well, he’ll get fixed,
for the bajillionth time.”
Please click here for the next films.
Please click here for the final films.
Please click here for the torch passing
Please click here for the next films.
Please click here for the final films.
Please click here for the torch passing
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