As a child I always thought of boxers as modern day barbarians. The spectacle of watching two men engage in combat was something I found so mesmerizing and simultaneously repulsive. It felt so energetic in the thunderous applause such entanglements would reap from its audience. The prospect of gaining glory through mutual brutality is something that has been common amongst most cultures as far back as the mind can conceive. Where I find Raging Bull magnetic is the form it takes composing a piece that uses this sport as a vector for ego, addiction, and abuse. It breaks my heart as I watch the wonderful editing of Thelma Schoonmaker emphasize the rise of our boxer, Jake La Motta, and his downfall. I think Scorsese has a phenomenal ability to show the excitement that oozes from winning. Many of his other films illustrate similar feelings of euphoria with how he portrays success. Where this one is his most destructive is the outward violence on display. I watch each scene where faces are smashed and grow uneasy as we get to the fight that would topple La Motta. I find myself understanding the power of such a fall when I start to analyze the almost mythological standards set up for our demonic gladiator.
An animal. This is the phrase thrown at our main boxer. A man who can shatter noses, jaws, and ribs with inhuman cruelty. When he enters the arena the camera floats not too far behind, entering a new dimension: A hellish realm where gladiators batter each other until they are nubs. What’s absolutely horrifying is what a person like this does when he’s outside of the ring. Marty paints a violent caricature of a man who descends into paranoia, ego, and jealousy all because he is unable to find satisfaction in what he has. He is ungrateful, misogynistic, controlling, and monstrous. He is a “bum,” as he says in his final monologue; a man whose insatiable lust for domination cost him his marriage, sanity, and his career. I see the sequences where he is pummeled as the spiritual counterbalance to this set up. As someone who also pondered the nature of punishment it feels to me that this is the one moment where our character is truly humbled for his ways, something I didn't fully come to realize before. Scorsese is a master of a downfall. Here, with one simple stroke of editing, we witness the one moment in the film where he cannot use his fists to overpower his challenges. Each frame haunts us as we watch the very flesh of this man morph with each punch from Sugar Ray Robinson. He must suffer for what he has done.
This self-destruction caught on camera in this film is palatable and vicious. Martin Scorsese made this film to keep himself alive after his tenacious internal struggle with addiction. As one who can relate to the nihilism of indulging in toxic ambition and vice I was rather beaten down by the experience of this nightmare. The constant paranoia, dissatisfaction with your progress, and egotistical self defense conjure an unlivable situation for everyone around you. The boxer, Jake La Motta, is not just a boxer. He is a symbol of how far one falls when his indulgence of his “vice” corrodes his ability to reason. A monstrous ending that eventually excises all that you love. Watching this now at the ripe age of twenty six felt almost spiritual. Sure, I can never say I fell to a level of bottomless evil that Jake La Motta inhabits. I can still recognize the patterns and empathize with the intense insecurity which emanates from it. It’s a truly harrowing existence. I think the power this film radiates to those who are suffering. A temple of pain crafted by a true artist. Scorsese’s take on the life of “Raging Bull” is timeless. The best sports film to be about “sports,” as I joke.
Powerful, volatile, and gorgeously photographed in b&w. Masterpiece.
Comments