A Frontmezzjunkies TIFF film review: Peter Farrelly explores the unlikely making of Rocky, revealing the determination, desperation, and sheer nerve behind Stallone’s Hollywood breakthrough.
By Ross
“I’m Mike, I’m here for thug #2,” Stallone announces, leaning into his stage name, and with that one line, he had me completely on board before he had even finished the sentence. Anthony Ippolito captures that unmistakable Stallone presence with an astonishing mix of physical precision and emotional vulnerability, so the performance never slips into caricature. The slouch, the heavy-lidded expression, the distinctive drawl, and that particular air of gravitas are all there, but underneath it all, there is a wonderfully human quality in his transformation. Director Peter Farrelly is clearly having a great time with “I Play Rocky“, working from a screenplay by Peter Gamble to tell the story behind the making of one of cinema’s most beloved underdog stories.
The film premiered at TIFF on Day 4, yet the film’s real spark comes from following the young Stallone’s struggle to make a place for himself in an industry that has little interest in giving him one. He wants to be an actor, first and foremost, and realizes that the way forward is to write a screenplay that will give him the central role he so desperately wants. And what a story it is. We follow him through the humiliations and compromises of trying to survive as an unknown actor, from bargaining for a bed and working at a fish market to accepting a role in a soft porno film. “No lines, no acting?” he asks, before simply standing naked in front of the producers. Then comes the response he has been waiting to hear. “You’re hired.” Ippolito makes us feel the desperation behind each of these encounters, particularly when the film makes room for the very real sacrifices Stallone faces, including the heartbreaking decision to sell his beloved dog Butkus to pay for groceries. Yet the performance also captures his wonderfully stubborn belief that something might finally go his way.
What makes the film so entertaining is the way it draws the connection between Stallone’s own life and the underdog he is creating on the page. Stallone is determined to make people take him seriously, insisting, “Acting is what I live and breathe for, and I got to have faith in myself.” He knows the odds are stacked against him, and his solution is wonderfully direct. “The only way I’m going to show people is to write a script for myself.” It is a declaration that sets the entire story in motion. The inspiration arrives while he is watching Muhammad Ali fight Chuck Wepner, and the idea for a boxer who goes the distance begins to take shape. Stallone writes the screenplay in a few fevered days, pouring his own experiences of rejection, determination, and survival into a character who refuses to surrender. “I’d rather be an optimist and wrong than a pessimist and be right” is one of those lines that makes you want to carry it around with you, perhaps even take to the grave. At this point, he is still Mike Stallone. That changes when Sasha (AnnaSophia Robb), his girlfriend, hears his father (Matt Dillon) call him Sylvester and decides she rather likes the sound of it. “It’s got a good ring to it,” she tells him. “It’s like Peter Parker.“
There is something really endearing about the way Sasha sees the possibility in that name, and in the person who has yet to convince the rest of the world to take him seriously. “You need to show everyone who you are,” she tells him, urging him to write himself a script and give himself the best part. When she reads what he has written in three and a half days, her response is immediate. “There’s something big here.” Robb is terrific as Sasha, giving Ippolito a strong and steady partner whose belief in Mike’s potential is every bit as important to the story as his own determination to succeed. The insistence that he play Rocky becomes the defining battle, with studio executives recognizing the potential of the screenplay while struggling to accept the unknown actor attached to it. Farrelly keeps the story moving with a light comedic touch, allowing the absurdity and indignities of Stallone’s circumstances to sit comfortably alongside the sincerity of his ambition.
A great deal of the pleasure is in watching the machinery of low-budget filmmaking take shape around this increasingly improbable dream. The production must operate within a strict $1 million budget, forcing the filmmakers to find creative ways to shoot on the streets of Philadelphia and make every available dollar count. Sean Porter’s cinematography captures the energy of those Philadelphia streets, while production designer Anthony Gasparro helps establish the period detail surrounding this improbable undertaking. The recreation of the original film’s production offers plenty of fascinating behind-the-scenes detail, including the accidental brilliance of the Steadicam and its role in capturing those now-iconic training sequences. The practical challenges, compromises, ingenuity, and sheer nerve required to make an ambitious independent film with such limited resources give the second half of the film its momentum. Farrelly’s approach gives these episodes an accessible, feel-good energy, and the supporting cast, including Tracy Letts, Stephan James, and Dillon, helps bring this particular corner of 1970s Hollywood to life. The film has a real affection for the process of making movies, especially when the people involved have to invent their way through every obstacle.
Ippolito is the film’s greatest triumph, carrying the weight of Stallone’s ambition with an immersive performance that makes it easy to forget how much work must have gone into capturing the actor’s mannerisms. He captures the familiar Stallone mannerisms while also finding the uncertainty and vulnerability of a young man who has spent much of his life being told that he doesn’t quite belong and that he is never going to make it. That balance is essential because “I Play Rocky” is ultimately a portrait of a person trying to convince the world to take a chance on him. Farrelly’s direction keeps the film buoyant and watchable, although the structure occasionally follows a familiar underdog formula, and the second half leans heavily on recreating scenes and moments from the original “Rocky“. Those sequences have an undeniable nostalgic appeal, and there is pleasure in seeing how some of the most recognizable images came into being, but they leave the film with fewer fresh dramatic discoveries as it approaches its conclusion. I found myself wanting a little more time with the man behind the famous moments, particularly the son who continues to seek his father’s approval. Dillon gives us a father whose own dissatisfaction with life seems to spill over into his assessment of his son. When he tells Sylvester, “Are you delusional? You don’t got the looks to be a movie star, not to mention that you talk like you got rocks in your mouth,” the cruelty is difficult to ignore. It is heartbreaking to watch Sylvester continue to work so hard to maintain a connection with a father who seems determined to diminish him.
With that complexity at its core, I found myself completely taken with “I Play Rocky“, enjoying the sly playfulness of a film that knows exactly how much affection audiences already have for the story it is telling. It is an astonishing tale of persistence, creative conviction, and the peculiar determination required to keep going when almost every practical circumstance seems designed to stop you. Farrelly has given us a feast of a film in its own right, with Ippolito delivering a performance that makes Stallone’s improbable journey feel immediate and alive. But the most affecting part of that journey may be the contrast between the people who see something in him and the person whose approval he keeps chasing. Sasha sees the potential in Sylvester and his writing, and urges him to show the world who he is, while his father seems determined to tell him everything he will never be. The young man who was told he didn’t have the looks, the voice, or the right to be a movie star eventually decides to write himself the part he believes he deserves. And perhaps the most satisfying thing about watching that happen is seeing him finally believe in the person he has been trying so hard to become.
