Let me begin this review by stating that Rocky is one of my all-time favorite films. This landmark of American cinema tells a simple story but with great care and effectiveness. The main characters are richly drawn living, breathing people, filled with lifetimes of mistakes, lost opportunities and yet great potential at the same time. Due partially to its low budget and also to the then-struggling Sylvester Stallone's heartfelt script, Rocky makes its points with understated effectiveness. Some of the finest scenes of that film (e.g. Rocky staring at the photo of himself as a boy, his date with Adrian at the ice rink) involve little to no action or music. In fact, until the final showdown with Apollo, Rocky is an entirely character-driven story.
A few years following the enormous success of Rocky, Stallone followed up with Rocky II, which had some problems in a critical sense. The climax of this film had about as much uncertainty as the climax of Titanic, the Adrian pregnancy angle dragged too long and the scene where hundreds of kids jog and scream behind Rocky is fit for viewing in one of hell's circles. Despite not being award-worthy, the film still captured enough of the original's charm to make it fair entertainment. A few years later, Rocky III introduced us to the cartoonish yet iconic Clubber Lang, played by Mr. T. This film amped up the goofiness by having Rocky wrestle Hulk Hogan (as Thunderlips; gotta give Stallone credit, he comes up with awesome monikers) for charity. It also cheesily manufactured pathos by killing off Mickey; notice how heart-attacked Mickey was just left lying on a slab during the whole fight; I would've assumed there'd have been at least one doctor or emergency worker at a heavyweight title match. Though Rocky III took some trips to the surreal, it still had a realistic story at its heart - that of a well-praised champion fighter losing his edge (or "Eye of the Tiger"), realizing he has passed his prime and then using strategy instead of brawn as his main weapon. The first three films, though dominated in excellence by the first, examined the three stages of a fighter's career. Stallone himself felt the series was complete.
That is, until the calamity called Rhinestone unleashed its wrath in 1984. Stallone, probably seeking to wipe away memories of that disaster ASAP, went back to the well in 1985, reviving his two iconic characters. Both Rambo: First Blood Part II and Rocky IV came out that year and became big commercial hits, despite being quite inferior to their predecessors. I must stress the word 'commercial' for Rocky IV. Though Rocky III had already dipped its foot into the pool of silliness, Rocky IV leapt in headfirst and sank to the bottom. Somehow, a humble everyman from the streets transformed into an oily bodybuilder single-handedly taking on Soviet communism, to a synthesizer-based soundtrack. Rocky IV isn't so much a film as it is an overlong music video filled with bombast acted out by one-dimensional cartoon characters. This movie clobbers the audience with fast editing, noisy histrionics and blaring pop music. Each of those aspects stand in direct opposition to the award-winning original; it doesn't take long to see why this series took a dive into the shitter. Perhaps the main reason Rocky IV looks and sounds so utterly ridiculous to me is because I'm such a fan of the first Rocky. So lets take a look at our current subject; as Clubber Lang might say, "I predict paaaayyyn!"
The Soviets invented nuclear boxing gloves but couldn't find any
test-wearers.
I come to drink vodka and kick ass and I'm all out of vodka.
Once again we listen to the smash hit "Eye of the Tiger", Rocky III's signature song. Out of the darkness, two silver boxing gloves fill the screen. As each glove slowly turns, we see that one bears the United States flag and the other the Soviet flag. The gloves get into position and launch themselves toward each other, then explode on impact. Perhaps that was an allegory to the mutually assured destruction policies of the Cold War, where each side built up an overwhelming arsenal of nuclear gloves, er... missiles, capable of destroying all life on Earth many times over. More likely they just wanted to blow something up and boxing shorts would've sent the wrong message..
As happened in the openings of Rocky II and III, we review the climactic bout of the previous film. Clubber Lang smashes everyone's favorite Italian stallion around with punch after punch until Rocky turns things around to regain his heavyweight belt. This is also followed by a review of the final scene of part III, the informal, friendly bout between Apollo and Rocky.
After about four minutes of that padding, the film proper begins. The night following Rocky's bout with Apollo, he pulls into his driveway in his slick Lamborghini. His son, looking rather Anglo-Saxonish for a boy with two southern Italian-American parents, greets him with a humongous 80's video camera and jokingly interviews him. The camera thing reminds me of a similar scene in Pulp Fiction. Man, that was a good film. I'm gonna go watch that right now instead of this crap. See ya.
Okay I'm back. Rocky gets indoors without asking how his son's hair changed overnight from black in part III to brown here, or how he grew a foot taller. He greets cranky brother-in-law Paulie in the dining room. It turns out there was a birthday party for Paulie, to which Rocky has arrived late. I was expecting another awkward, drunken rampage on Paulie's part but his character in this film will become more like a comic-relief cartoon. After some playful banter (sort of), Rocky reveals his birthday present to Paulie and his first blast of shit at the audience. The gift is a human-sized robot, which wheels itself in holding a cake. To complete this awful moment, horrid 80's electronica rears its ugly head. As far as annoying sidekicks go, this robot makes Jar Jar Binks seem beloved. Paulie is perplexed by the gift, but Adrian comes in and explains "Since you don't have any friends we thought you'd like it!" I'm thinking Adrian is finally getting back at Paulie for all those years of his drunken rants. Paulie, speaking with more wisdom than he is aware of, says "I wish I wasn't in this nightmare." Rocky Jr. helps him blow out his candles by spraying whipped cream all over his face. If there were ever a time for Paulie to freak out and start swinging a baseball bat... The robot immediately says "Don't worry, I'll clean it up for you Paulie." I was not aware sentient robots existed now, much less back in 1985; I'll try not to think about it too hard but it won't be easy.
Later, ever-sensible Adrian reads a book in the bedroom. Rocky greets her with an early anniversary cake and fancy bracelet to remind us that the easygoing good guy we saw in parts I, II and III hasn't suddenly transformed into a foul-mouthed wife beater. They get all gushy with each other as he tells her, "You ain't ever gettin' rid of me." Indeed Sly, particularly when your attempts to branch out result in Rhinestone. Overall I thought it was a cute little scene albeit mostly due to the absence of the robot.
It doesn't count as murder if it's a robot, right?
The drama now begins as we see a poster of the huge Soviet boxer and world amateur champion, Ivan Drago. I bet in Spanish-speaking countries he's a drag. Sorry. Ominous music plays, sounding like something frightening is going to happen. They should've played this before the opening credits. A plane lands, followed by Ivan and his entourage disembarking to meet the American press. It seems like there must be a hundred reporters and photographers furiously trying to get up close and personal with Drago. Even during the Cold War, I don't think an amateur Soviet boxer would garner THAT much attention but I'll give the film a mulligan. Dolph Lundgren (in his first major role) looks the part very well, even though they didn't give him much to do here outside of perspire and look mildly pissed. His wife Ludmilla greets the reporters and answers all questions for him. Brigitte Nielsen, who happened to be Stallone's wife at the time, plays Ludmilla. I remember seeing this film as a teen and not being terribly attracted to her, at a time in my life when a boy is attracted to anything resembling a primate. Given the hosebeast she now resembles (Ugh!), I must say she looked decent in 1985. Also with Ivan is his manager Nicoli Koloff. Nicoli's furious mugging will continually test the bounds of his eye and facial muscles for the duration of the film. To easily remember his character, let's just call him Snidely Whiplashimov.
While playing around with the dogs in his backyard pool, Apollo views the press coverage with disdain, as if someone pissed in his soup... or pool, even. He watches his TV as Ludmilla announces that hubby Ivan has come to the United States to compete in professional boxing. Why the United States wouldn't know this information before he flew over I leave to your imagination. It isn't like a major Soviet athlete would have visited the U.S. for an impromptu vacation. Apollo's brow continues to furrow; Italian horseys and mohawk-wearing punks may be harmless enough but a giant seat-sniffing Soviet is where Mr. Creed draws the line! The press conference concludes with Snidely Whiplashimov stating that Ivan would like an exhibition bout with Rocky before adding that Ivan happens to be indestructible. Snidely doesn't proceed to point his pinky finger at the corner of his mouth and laugh toward the ceiling but it wouldn't have surprised me.
At home, Rocky polishes his car while his son dances with the (ugh) robot while more '80's electronica plays (ugh, ugh). The maid walks outside to let Rocky know Apollo has called; as Rocky begins to head in, the robot lets him know "You can get it (phone call) right here." Again, where are these sentient robots that are available for purchase by the general public? It's now 25 years after this film was made and the best we can get are self-propelled vacuum cleaners that take four hours to clean two rooms.
Over at a training exhibition being put on by the visiting Soviets, we see Ivan Drago exercise. All around him are banks of computers, monitors and the proverbial blinking and flashing lights. At least a dozen lab-coated technicians earnestly mull around. I smell what they're cooking but even if Drago were the result of the most high-tech sports medicine and training, would there really be this much work to do? Anyway, Snidely shows up to heap more homoerotic praise on Ivan. He proclaims that the Soviets have the know-how to "make a man a better man" and that "we wish to educate your country" about such techniques. This film makes it look like the Soviets had some athletic edge on the Americans in the eighties, a mistaken theory unless we're talking about amateurs only or that silly sport handball. Anyway, some reporters allege that Drago has benefited from blood doping and steroids. Since he is the bad guy in this film, we can assume the accusations are true. Ludmilla defends him though, by stating that Ivan is "like your Popeye... he ate his spinach every day!" It may seem like a lame defense but it's no worse than the B.S. spouted by pro baseball players. Next, Drago punches a machine that is the equivalent of the "hit the bell with the hammer" contest seen at old-fashioned carnivals. Snidely states that a normal heavyweight boxer's punch carries about 700 pounds-per-inch of pressure. Drago, he explains, can punch with 1850 pounds of pressure, which he goes on to prove. What a load of complete and utter nonsense. As Roger Ebert explained in his review of this film, given how hard a heavyweight boxer punches to begin with, Drago's punch should be able to decapitate an opponent, something that will certainly not happen in the movie. It was nice of the Soviets however, to convert their kilograms to pounds, so dopey American reporters can better understand.
