Directed by Martin Scorsese
Starring Robert DeNiro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Moriarty
USA, 1980
Rated R (graphic violence, strong language, some sexuality)
Recognized in my "The Century's Masterpieces" page.
BRUTALITY AS TRANQUILIZER
Raging Bull is about violence. It is a graphic film that uses time and space in and
out of the boxing ring to full effect. The celebrated 1940s and ’50s boxer, Jake
LaMotta (Robert DeNiro), is portrayed here as sleazy, jealous, and brutal; he’s an animal.
For Martin Scorsese, Robert DeNiro, and Paul Schrader, Raging Bull had to be
made and their passion paid off: over time, the film has become the team’s most
famous achievement after Taxi Driver and has been named the best film of the ‘80s
and one of the greatest films of all time. It is a relentless movie and the complete
opposite of the much more affectionate tribute to boxing, Rocky.
However, as critics are eager to point out, Raging Bull is not about boxing. It looks at the sport as an outlet for expressing one’s inclement emotions. Jake LaMotta, a middleweight boxing champion, is extremely violent in nature and he doesn’t box for the sake of boxing but to calm his frustrations. To him, being inhumane is almost medicinal. Living in New York, LaMotta is plagued by several things but mainly by his ever-present jealousy and suspicion of the women in his life. Being the brute that he is, he tries to turn his lovers into subservient, timid creatures. This ends his first marriage and scars a second one to a blonde young woman named Vicki (Cathy Moriarty).
Jake’s brother and manager, Joey (Joe Pesci), is similarly burdened by him. During the straining course of LaMotta’s boxing career, Jake seems to enjoy being the victim. Seeking the sin of relatives and friends, he pulls crimes out of thin air and accuses those close to him of them. Vicki is loyal but emotionally emaciated by Jake’s merciless scrutiny of her every move. She can’t even say goodbye to a male acquaintance without being interrogated by Jake. We never learn if Vicki is cheating on him but, from what we witness on screen, he has no good reason to suspect her of betrayal.
The fights in Raging Bull, both in and out of the boxing ring, are bloody. Perfectly edited by Thelma Schoonmaker and exceptionally framed and photographed by Michael Chapman, the film boasts several vicious boxing sequences. We watch LaMotta punch his opponent into a pulp. When his wife briefly comments that a future opponent, Janiro, is good-looking, he goes into a fit of rage. When he finally fights Janiro, he wounds his face so bad that a Mafia boss in the audience quips "He ain’t pretty no more." Martin Scorsese twists time and space in the film, putting us inside the ring with two very angry men (there are many sequences with LaMotta fighting Sugar Ray Robinson). Scorsese uses a stark soundtrack that is, at one moment, loud with screaming spectators of a fight, then filled with quiet suspense as one rival prepares to bloody the other. Time and space is also manipulated outside the ring. To Jake, Vicki is an enigmatic, God-like figure. We see Vicki in slow-motion several times. We also see those who LaMotta believes to be Vicki’s lovers in slow-motion.
Towards the end of the film, everyone leaves Jake. The last straw for Joey is when Jake accuses him of cheating with Vicki. It is amazing how LaMotta blows every single movement of his wife out of proportion. Vicki gives Joey a kiss and he goes flying with fury. Vicki eventually files for divorce when Jake retires and becomes a shoddy, overweight emcee at bars.
The most famous scene in the film is LaMotta’s recitation of the "I coulda been a contenda…" speech from On the Waterfront. Jake’s reading tells us of his relationship with his estranged brother, Joey, and his regret for becoming what he now seems to be, "a bum." DeNiro delivers the scene without a shred of emotion but the parallels between Terry Malloy’s situation in Waterfront and LaMotta’s in Raging Bull are evident and profound to us.
Robert DeNiro’s performance is searing. His gaining fifty pounds for the role of Jake LaMotta has become one of Hollywood’s greatest behind-the-scenes stories. More importantly, DeNiro succeeds in showing us LaMotta’s ugliness and brutality and, at the end, his pathetic but present streak of humanity. LaMotta reaches a place of loss and slight self-revelation at the end of Raging Bull and DeNiro makes his crisis subtley moving.
Raging Bull seems to be Martin Scorsese’s film, however. Incorporating his trademark Italian-flavored dialogue (which is often hilarious and lightens up the heavy issues of human bondage at hand), his sense of physical and emotional violence, and his way with actors, Scorsese made Raging Bull an indisputable masterpiece. It is one of the most unsympathetic and saddening portraits of a character whose inner demons have eaten away his integrity.
By Andrew Chan