‘I Play Rocky’ Review: The Incredible Story Behind the Making of a Hollywood Classic

In 2018, the year Green Book won the Academy Award for Best Picture, it was hardly the most critically acclaimed film in the race, nor was it particularly admired by the international film intelligentsia. There were far more highly regarded contenders, including Roma, The Favourite and even BlacKkKlansman. But Peter Farrelly’s film gradually gained momentum among Academy voters until, somewhat inexplicably in retrospect, it walked away with the night’s biggest prize. It was an accessible, likable, ultimately forgettable movie from a director whose previous work consisted mostly of mainstream comedies. Its screenwriter, Nick Vallelonga, was an actor and occasional writer who had largely operated on the fringes of Hollywood until then. He, too, went home with an Oscar, winning for Best Original Screenplay.

It’s hard not to think about that movie when considering I Play Rocky, Farrelly’s latest, which seems to draw inspiration both from the making of Sylvester Stallone’s original Rocky and from what happened with Green Book itself. Back in 1976, Rocky was also the deeply personal project of an inexperienced actor and amateur screenwriter who managed to get it made through sheer stubbornness and an unwavering belief in himself. That relatively simple, fairly conventional movie by the standards of its time went on to win the Oscars for Best Picture and Best Original Screenplay, beating out films now regarded as classics, including All the President’s Men, Taxi Driver and Network. Those movies were arguably more attuned to the political and cultural mood of the era and certainly more celebrated by critics. The parallels between Green Book and Rocky are striking, and they provide an interesting starting point for looking at Farrelly’s new film.

But as appealing as that comparison may be, Green Book isn’t Rocky, and neither is this new movie, which is essentially a behind-the-scenes account of how the 1976 film came into being. I Play Rocky tells the story of a struggling actor so short on work that he eventually finds himself sleeping on the streets just to get by, only to defy everyone’s expectations and become a box-office star and an Oscar-winning screenwriter. It’s an unabashed celebration of the American Dream, with a dramatic arc that is, in some ways, even more neatly constructed than the one in Rocky itself.

In its straightforward, accessible approach to storytelling and its familiar tale of personal triumph, Farrelly’s film doesn’t stray very far from the territory he explored in Green Book. We first meet «Mike» Stallone (as he initially calls himself), an aspiring actor who can’t even land a bit part listed as Thug #2. He’s talented, hardworking and looks the part, but something about his voice and diction seems to put casting directors off. In fact, he loses his job simply because he goes to an audition. Living on the streets with an abandoned dog as his only companion, he eventually scrapes together some money appearing in softcore porn movies, finds a place to stay and gets a job tearing tickets at a movie theater. That’s where he meets Sasha (AnnaSophia Robb), who will become his girlfriend and one of the most important sources of support in his life.

Some time later, the two move to Los Angeles. Sasha gets pregnant, while Stallone, now working as a parking attendant at a restaurant and writing screenplays in his spare time, manages to get his foot in the door with a couple of Hollywood producers, Irwin Winkler and Robert Chartoff (played by P.J. Byrne and Toby Kebbell, respectively). They aren’t particularly impressed at first. Sylvester (by then using his real name, at Sasha’s suggestion) leaves them one of his scripts. They tell him they won’t produce it, but the screenplay at least gets them to start taking him seriously as a writer. Then, one day, after watching Muhammad Ali struggle to defeat a relatively unknown boxer named Chuck Wepner, a fighter nobody expected to last more than three rounds, something clicks. Sly sits down, opens his notebook and writes a single word by hand: Rocky.

What follows is the unlikely story at the heart of the film: How does an unknown actor, someone nobody could imagine getting anything more than a supporting role in a gangster movie, manage to write and, more importantly, star in a film like that? Of course, nobody knew Rocky would become the kind of cash cow it eventually turned into, continuing to generate revenue half a century later. But Stallone believed in himself. More than anything, he wanted to prove to his demanding father (Matt Dillon, sporting a somewhat cartoonish look and accent) that he could make something of himself. And against all odds, he eventually managed to make his dream come true. Not, of course, without a few bumps along the way. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be much of a movie…

Little-known actor Anthony Ippolito is arguably the main reason to see I Play Rocky. His portrayal of Stallone is so spot-on that, after a while, you almost forget you’re not watching the real Sly. He captures not only the mannerisms, posture, speech patterns and physical presence, but also seems to get at the inner life of a man whose appearance and diction often obscured what was going on beneath the surface. That’s actually one of the film’s central themes: the way producers and, in a broader sense, Hollywood as a whole failed to recognize that behind this rough-looking kid who seemed better suited to playing a neighborhood thug was a talented writer, a resourceful actor and a man of considerable sensitivity.

The strongest part of I Play Rocky is its first half, as it follows Stallone’s early struggles, his difficult entry into the industry and the uphill battle to get Hollywood to finance his screenplay. The problem was that he had one seemingly non-negotiable condition: «I play Rocky,» he tells Winkler and Chartoff. «It’s my story,» he insists. And everyone knows that Hollywood doesn’t exactly jump at the chance to finance a movie starring a complete unknown. Following the twists and turns of the industry, the negotiations that ensue (Tracy Letts has a field day as Sandy, a fictional studio executive who wants absolutely nothing to do with Stallone playing the lead) and the difficult decisions Sly and his partner must make is where the film finds its richest material.

The second half shifts its focus to the actual production of Rocky. And that’s where the movie begins to lose some steam. It’s almost as if the dream had already come true once Stallone signed the contract, leaving the filmmakers with the task of finding a new story to tell. From that point on, Farrelly’s film becomes largely a collection of production anecdotes, detailing the changes, unexpected developments and budgetary constraints the crew encountered along the way. Jay Duplass plays John G. Avildsen, the director hired largely because of his reputation for making inexpensive movies without going over budget. But I Play Rocky gradually gets lost in the behind-the-scenes trivia, recreating iconic scenes and showing us how each one came together. From there on, the film becomes more of a treat for movie buffs and fans of the 1976 original than a compelling drama with its own narrative momentum.

The screenplay occasionally feels like a combination of overly explanatory dialogue and eureka! moments in which famous scenes from Rocky suddenly materialize, seemingly out of nowhere or by sheer coincidence. Still, despite its simplicity, Farrelly and his collaborators manage to convey their genuine affection for this character, a guy nobody gave a second thought to who would eventually become a worldwide icon. Like Green Book, and perhaps Rocky itself, this is a movie with its share of limitations, but also with a tenderness and emotional pull that often help it rise above them.