Raging Bull

The cinematic transformation of a scummy pro-boxer from mildly gross to completely disgusting, told in black and white with an operatic score

Grade: A (94/100)

Director: Martin Scorsese 
Year Released: 1980

Raging Bull is a hard movie to watch, but not for the reasons one might think. While it's certainly not desirable to watch two men get the shit beaten out of them in gory, close-up details (down to the stitches opening up on their faces and blood and pus squirting out like a sprinkler), it's even harder to watch Robert De Niro's character Jake LaMotta abuse his wives, destroy his body, and complete a transformation into the full-potential of scumbag to be possibly achieved by one man. And that's basically the entire movie.

I love Robert De Niro, and as a result I will watch him in any role and appreciate it, from a young, enterprising mafia boss in Little Italy to an ex-CIA agent who shelters his daughter from Ben Stiller's affections. As real-life boxer Jake LaMotta, De Niro is beyond believable and phenomenally disgusting, delivering one of the finest performances I've seen by any actor in the many classic films I've watched for this project. I'm amazed that Jake LaMotta not only allowed this film to be made but also wrote the memoir it was based on; his exploits are so finely displayed in all their awfulness that it's amazing that LaMotta did not just hide himself away from the world forever, much less actually make public what a complete monster he was. De Niro lends humanity to the role of LaMotta, but more than anything he gives a performance that shows the many faceted layers of LaMotta's personality, emphasizing that fighting has had a profound impact on the shaping of his character. He is violent, abusive, impatient, jealous, sensitive, and, overall, deeply unhappy. In Raging Bull, both Scorsese and De Niro have created a portrait of a man who cannot decide what will fulfill him, but continuously fights (both figuratively and literally) to retain some sort of control.

As I've mentioned before, I find the best films to have extras and less-developed characters who are still believably played by great actors. Raging Bull is full of excellent performances, especially from De Niro (obviously- what can he do wrong?) and Joe Pesci, whose turn as LaMotta's brother, a man whose frontal lobe is just developed more than Jake's to be considered the responsible character, is elegantly natural and powerful. To be honest, Cathy Moriarty's performance as Vickie LaMotta is one I can't quite figure out from one viewing. She is clearly no 15-year-old as she is supposed to be, and her age remains somewhat of an enigma throughout the entire film. As De Niro obviously and loudly changes dimensions, she stays more or less the same- quiet, apathetic, absorbing Jake's abuse like he would absorb a punch in the ring, throughout most of the movie. There was no scene in which I thought she really nailed it, which was a slight disappointment to me. However, as an audience member I found 99% of my sympathy going to her, from the moment she accepts a ride from LaMotta in his car while he's still married to his first wife to the scene in which he breaks into her home to steal back his boxing belts.

Raging Bull is a movie about unhealthy relationships, both with others and with oneself. Scorsese has said that the boxing ring is a metaphor for one's life and the struggles that take place within it. For Jake LaMotta, the only way to problem solve is to fight, always physically. A backstory regarding LaMotta's childhood might have been helpful in understanding how he was created- what unhappy occurrences went into shaping his unhealthy behavior- but without one the viewer is given a sort of power to imagine and apply his early struggles to those faced by countless others. We can resonate with Raging Bull because there are so many people around us who are raging bulls- aimless, confused, angry, hurt, and ready to fight, ready to attempt to find control by any means necessary, usually at his or her own expense. Those particularly close to these types of people resonate with the abused- Vickie, Joey LaMotta, the many others who incur Jake's wrath. When their ties to Jake are finally broken the viewer feels relieved and not the least bit sorry for Jake, even when his life really falls down the drain.

The most cringeworthy scene, which is saying something

God, and how Jake LaMotta's life falls down the drain. Once a beautiful specimen, his career failings and the dissolution of his marriage and relationship with his brother, both effects of erroneous jealousy, have punishing effects on his health, and he becomes the kind of obese, cigar-chomping, heavy-drinking washed up celebrity who owns a chain of restaurants in Florida. The worst kind of people- the saddest kind, too. After being arrested for allowing underaged runaways at his club, the viewer watches in disgust as he reaches his lowest point.

Raging Bull is a sad movie in which not a lot of good happens. Purposefully, Scorsese's only color shots in the film are the happy home movies, in which a young Jake and Vickie can be seen splashing around in beautiful 1940s attire with their kids, happily kissing and enjoying some of the only scenes in which they are not actively threatening or hurting each other. Other than this brief detour into happier days, the viewer is left with the black-and-white bleakness, the fighting, the bottled up pain, the injuries, the fall from grace. But though it is a disturbing film, it cannot be appreciated enough for the sheer brilliance of Scorsese's direction, De Niro's dedication to the role, and the harrowing journey into an emotional wasteland that is perfectly chronicled within its 129 minute run-time. If you can take it, I strongly recommend you do. 

I rented Raging Bull on Amazon Prime Video for $3.99. It's also available for purchase, I'm sure, at your local video store.