New Rocky origin story expected to finally reveal inspirational true story, provided nobody who was there is allowed inside theater
LOS ANGELES, CA. Hollywood announced plans this week to continue the sacred American tradition of taking an already good story, sanding off anything inconvenient, applying three coats of bullshit, and selling it back to everybody as “the incredible true story.”
This time, the subject is Sylvester Stallone and the making of Rocky, a story that apparently wasn’t inspirational enough when it involved a struggling actor writing a surprisingly great screenplay and turning it into one of the most beloved movies ever made.
No, goddammit.
He must be Rocky.
Not play Rocky.
Not write Rocky.
Not create Rocky.
BE ROCKY.
Because apparently writing and starring in Rocky wasn’t impressive enough.
The legend requires suffering. Poverty. Rejection. Sacrifice. A beloved dog. Probably a cold Philadelphia morning somewhere. And ideally one guy at a studio saying, “You’ll never make it, kid,” shortly before Stallone stares wistfully through a dirty window while somebody plays a trumpet.
Unfortunately for everybody involved, one of the people who was actually there has apparently decided this would be an excellent time to start talking.
That man is Jimmy Gambina, Stallone’s trainer during the original production, and his recollections occasionally sound less like Rocky and more like somebody accidentally turned on the director’s commentary during the legend.
According to Gambina’s account reported by Slate, he trained Stallone and Carl Weathers for four months before filming. He describes Stallone as inexperienced at boxing and says getting him into convincing fighting condition required considerable work. Stallone himself had previously acknowledged that he initially knew little about proper boxing technique. [slate.com]
Which, to be clear, is fine.
He’s an actor.
Nobody watched Jurassic Park and demanded Sam Neill produce documentation proving he’d previously escaped a velociraptor.
Nobody finished Star Wars grumbling that Mark Hamill had clearly exaggerated his experience flying military spacecraft.
That’s what acting is.
But sometime during the past half-century, Rocky stopped being merely a movie and became American folklore.
And once that happened, Sylvester Stallone wasn’t permitted to simply be the enormously successful guy who created Rocky Balboa.
He had to slowly become Rocky Balboa himself.
Unfortunately, Rocky’s Trainer Has Entered the Chat
This complicates things.
According to Gambina’s recollection quoted by Slate, early Stallone was not secretly wandering around Los Angeles as an undiscovered championship fighter.
He was learning.
A lot.
Gambina says he worked on his conditioning, sparring, bag work, rope-jumping, stretching and other fundamentals necessary to make a movie actor convincingly resemble someone who had spent years boxing. [slate.com]
In other words, he was doing exactly what we’d expect a professional actor to do when preparing for a role.
Which somehow became insufficiently heroic.
The legend needed more.
Eventually we arrive at the wonderful concept that an actor who played a fictional boxer apparently needs retroactive street credentials for the fictional boxing.
It’s like discovering Daniel Day-Lewis didn’t actually spend 1850 hunting buffalo and demanding your money back.
Then There’s the Damn Dog
And this is where the Rocky mythology becomes especially beautiful.
One of Stallone’s most famous stories concerns Butkus, his bullmastiff.
Stallone has publicly told versions in which poverty forced him to sell Butkus before his breakthrough and, after Rocky happened, he desperately negotiated to get the dog back. In one version cited by Slate, Stallone identified “Little Jimmy,” meaning Gambina, as the man who bought Butkus and later demanded substantial compensation or involvement in the film to return him. [slate.com]
Fantastic story.
Tiny problem.
Little Jimmy remembers the entire goddamn thing differently.
Gambina says Stallone gave him Butkus later, after the original Rocky, because Gambina had grown close to the animal and Stallone was concerned about traveling and having a new baby. According to Gambina, Butkus remained with his family until Stallone needed the dog for Rocky II. [slate.com]
That’s not a minor disagreement.
That’s the difference between:
Desperate starving artist makes heartbreaking sacrifice.
and:
Hey Jimmy, can you watch the dog?
One qualifies for an inspirational montage.
The other qualifies for a magnet on your veterinarian’s refrigerator.
Hollywood Remains Confident Reality Can Be Fixed in Post
Fortunately, this is Hollywood we’re talking about.
Historical complications can easily be repaired.
Executives merely need to ensure the Stallone origin story contains all the required ingredients:
Stallone sitting alone in an apartment.
Stallone looking at his final seven dollars.
Stallone looking at Butkus.
Butkus looking at Stallone.
Stallone looking back at the seven dollars.
Rain.
Thunder.
A piano.
Some asshole from the studio laughing while smoking a cigar.
And finally Stallone pounding away at a typewriter while destiny itself whispers:
“Yo.”
Meanwhile, outside the studio, Jimmy Gambina will presumably be shaking the locked front door yelling:
“THAT’S NOT HOW THE FUCKING DOG THING HAPPENED.”
The Strangest Part Is Stallone Doesn’t Need Any of This
That’s what makes the whole thing so funny.
Take away every embellishment.
Take away the dog story.
Take away any suggestion that Stallone was secretly Rocky Balboa wandering around Hollywood disguised as an actor.
What’s left?
A relatively unknown actor wrote Rocky.
The film was made.
It became enormously successful.
It won Best Picture.
It launched one of Hollywood’s most enduring franchises and turned its writer-star into one of the most recognizable actors in the world.
THAT’S ALREADY AN INCREDIBLE FUCKING STORY.
You do not need to improve it.
Yet apparently celebrity mythology operates under the same rules as fishing.
The first time the story is told, the fish is eight inches long.
Ten years later it’s two feet.
Twenty years later you’re Captain Ahab.
After 40 years the fish sold your dog and demanded a speaking role in Rocky.
Coming Soon: The True Story of the True Story Inspired by the True Story
Perhaps Hollywood should just embrace the problem.
Don’t make a movie about the making of Rocky.
Make a movie about the making of the mythology about the making of Rocky.
Act One:
Young Stallone writes Rocky.
Act Two:
Rocky becomes a phenomenon.
Act Three:
Everyone gradually realizes the behind-the-scenes story has somehow developed sequels of its own.
And the final scene practically writes itself.
An elderly Sylvester Stallone sits alone in a darkened theater watching the dramatic movie version of young Sylvester Stallone watching fictional Rocky Balboa overcome adversity.
The music swells.
Young Stallone runs triumphantly up the Philadelphia Museum of Art steps.
The crowd cheers.
Tears fill everyone’s eyes.
Then from somewhere in the back row comes the unmistakable voice of Jimmy Gambina:
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.”
Fade to black.
INSPIRED BY A TRUE STORY
Depending entirely upon whom you ask.
