Sixty-Two: Rocky Retard (04-13-2024)
I always assumed that the film Rocky was a typical underdog sports movie, probably something akin to the recent, also set in Philadelphia, Adam Sandler film Hustle, where an underdog must learn humility and understand the skill of his opponents to unlock his true potential, but his ability to win through talent alone is never in question. He (the main character of Hustle) is always, undoubtedly, an absurdly talented basketball player. There's never been any indication to me that Rocky exists outside of this trope. My assumption was that the titular Rocky must learn to control his hubris so that he can beat an opponent who is not better than him, only famous, and that he succeeds and can smooch his bimbo blonde Italian girlfriend. I also, humorously, assumed "Adrian" would be a male friend of Rocky's, a sparring partner perhaps, for no real reason. In both of these assumptions, I was incorrect.
I have no shame in admitting that I was, until yesterday, very much ignorant to the truth. I may have been wrong in my assumption that Philadelphians' and Americans' love for Rocky was misplaced and obsessive. I do still believe that having a statue (and now gift shop) outside one of our nation's greatest museums of art, that receives more yearly tourist visitors than the museum itself, is an embarrassment for Philadelphia and the nation it made. Rocky is not a real person, and no number of sequels and sequel series will ever conjure him into existence. Philadelphia has produced too many real stories of triumph against odds, in sports and out, that deserve commemoration. And Rocky didn't even win in Rocky.
It is purely America's saturated fat-drenched obsession with fictional characters (1) that fueled my assumption that Rocky was generica. There's simply no way that foolish, uneducated, undiscerning Americans could hold, for fifty years, a wholesome reverence for a good movie. I still have to assume that Americans do not, or did not, understand Rocky. Because Rocky is retarded.
Rocky walks around bouncing a little rubber ball, refuses to hurt anyone- despite being an employed gangster, is obsessed with the quirky, openly retarded pet store clerk, and has constant behavioral ticks. His obsession with the past and his childhood- through carrying pictures of his fights and waxing poetic about his parents, is something I have seen, usually, autistic people do. All of these behaviors are hallmarks of real autistic people. The fact that Adrian is played up as shy and quiet, then called retarded, as Rocky is bullied by his peers (who give him no respect), shows that someone, a writer or actor or someone involved in the production, knew that Sylvester Stallone was playing Rocky like an autistic person. Rocky lives in a dump and plays with turtles, wears the same clothes everyday, and struggles in every social situation he enters. How any non-autistic American audience watches this and sees a "quintessential underdog story" is bewildering. Nothing about Rocky is quintessential- it is a bespoke art piece that treats the mentally different with more respect and care than I am Sam or Rain Man or any other film meant to exemplify a good story starring a (presumably) non-autistic (or other) actor performing to the embarrassingly best of their ability, an autistic (or other) character.
If Rocky was actually meant to be autistic, the movie would be hated. It would be seen as a mockery of American imagery released on the Bicentennial, where a lower-class mental handicap waltzes his way onto the big stage and makes a show out of what should have been an open-and-shut boxing match. Rocky loses- he doesn't even see winning as a goal. He sets a lower bar, something a little more achievable, and forces himself to do it, for no one's sake. Not even Rocky benefits from fighting fifteen rounds. Then him and Adrian reunite and the movie ends, immediately. It's an effective art piece, but not really a popcorn-munching slugfest. How did this stick in the cultural memory?
Maybe Seventies Americans saw Rocky and loved its warm tone and happy ending, where two City Simpletons fall in love while one suffers through an idiosyncratic training regimen. Then it won some Oscars (effective bait), and the city of Philadelphia's tourism people blasted it into all the local's minds enough that word got around that we loved it so then everyone loved it but no one had really seen it or given it an uncritical watch since it ran in theatres. Then a good man (me) watches it after swearing it off for so long, and finds that Rocky is not a boisterous South Philly gravy-drinking Italian boxer, but a Kensington resident who loves animals, boxing for exercise and to relieve the nervous stress of being a person who cannot relate to those around you, yet still sees how they fall short.
Also- per google, the wider internet, and a lifetime of experience, it seems the world thinks Rocky is about boxing or Rocky's personal endeavor to improve as a boxer and take Apollo Creed to fifteen rounds. There's only two actual fist fights in the movie. The movie is about Rocky learning to relate to others, to open up and accept who he is, and to woo Adrian (and, to some, rape her). Other messages about abusive households, cleaning up and re-wallpapering your apartment, enjoying a cold breeze on a wintry morning in Philadelphia, and cheesesteaks also appear. The scene where Rocky first turns away Mickey then chases for him back, where Mickey begs for another change at success, with his last best effort being "I'm 76" is one of the best portrayals of the desperations of age and mortality I've ever seen depicted in any media. The fact that Sylvester Stallone wrote Rocky means that he must have found some great stash of empathy or had a buddy with a big brain and heart write the non-fist pounding scenes for him.
I will march on and watch the rest of the Rocky movies, and possibly the Creed ones as well- I am certain that any franchise that pushes to 9 or more films as Rocky and the Rocky Cinematic Universe has, at some point sacrifices its essence to receive some more money. I hope Rocky II keeps its soul, but I won't be surprised if by Rocky III, Rocky is a gearhead muscleman who collects world titles. Then I would understand- it is the decontaminated, reupholstered Rocky that appeals to Americans- the one they bought again and again, not the messy, autistic one, who just wanted to fall in love with the pet shop girl (2), who won them over first.
(1) In 30 years or so there will be a Robert Downey Jr as Iron Man statue outside the Met
(2) Rocky changing his mind and choosing to fight isn't shown in Rocky. His exasperation searching for Adrian ("where'd your hat go?") at the end of the film suggests he may have taken the fight to impress her. The entire character of Rocky, Stallone's attention or not, is a hopelessly romantic, autistic North Philadelphian.