Sylvester Stallone and John G. Avildsen’s Rocky is often cited as a quintessential 1970s movie, a perception that never seemed entirely right to me. It certainly is of its era, grounded if even superficially in the grime and weariness that defined the decade-long hangover after Nixon and Vietnam. Yet Rocky was also in many ways a reaction to that bleak atmosphere; a counterpoint to the cynicism of The Conversation or The French Connection, or for that matter Avildsen’s own Joe, which ended in 1970 by having its racist loudmouth protagonist accidentally murder his own daughter (a babyfaced Susan Sarandon).In this kind of cultural crucible, Rocky followed up on the prescient instincts of Jaws right before it, or Star Wars shortly afterward, and gave a populist palette cleanser to the masses. It insisted that sometimes even a southpaw from Philly can go the distance.In 1976, some critics sniffed at such sentimentality as manipulative, but everyday moviegoers ran away by the millions with to join the Italian Stallion at the feel-good circus. In ways overt and subtle, Peter Farrelly’s I Play Rocky emulates that still-winning formula, right down to embracing sentiment over the aloof ambiguity of a fall festival season release.cnx.cmd.push(function() {cnx({playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530",}).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796");});The movie—which tells the ever impressive story of Sylvester Stallone’s journey from out-of-work actor to a writer with a hot script he wouldn’t sell unless he got the starring role—is every bit as sweet and syrupy as Rocky. It’s so yearning, and perhaps so calculated, it practically begs audiences to forget what came later, from Stallone’s reigning diva status in ‘80s action cinema to his more modern reputation as a Hollywood Trump whisperer. And to be fair, if one can let go of any pretenses at cynicism, then it’s hard not to be charmed by this real-life fairy tale with puppy dog eyes.Indeed, when we meet the film’s version of a young Stallone (an eerily uncanny Anthony Ippolito), just about the only thing he’s got going for him are those eyes via his beloved bull dog, Butkus. The two lived on the street for a spell before the story starts up, and things aren’t going too much better in first New York and later Los Angeles for “James” (he is embarrassed to go by his real name Sylvester). One person who actually appreciates a 50-cent handle like “Sylvester” though is Sasha Czack (AnnaSophia Robb), a young woman Stallone meets at a movie theater where they both work. She also quickly becomes the voice of needed confidence, urging him to try writing roles for himself like Orson Welles did.Cut to not-quite two years later, and Sylvester and Sasha are married and living on the West Coast, which is probably best since it puts time zones between Sly and his abusive father Frank (Matt Dillon). But the acting career isn’t going too much better, even as his spec scripts are starting to get the attention of producers like Irwin Winkler (P.J. Byrne) and Robert Chartoff (Toby Kebbell). The duo recognize Stallone’s got talent but are eager to see if he can do something more commercial. He can.It begins after the would-be star watches from a bar stool how real-life challenger Chuck Wepner (almost) goes 15 rounds with heavyweight champ Muhammad Ali before the Greatest defeated Wepner by technical knockout. It was close enough though for Stallone to see the value in smudging the details a little and having his fictional Rocky Balboa go the full distance against a world champion. Producers like Winkler and Chartoff also see the value in the idea. Hell, a cantankerous and a delightfully shady composite character of various United Artists executives played by Tracy Letts likes the screenplay too, despite claiming he hates boxing movies! But this one will work, assuming they get someone like Burt Reynolds or Clint Eastwood, or maybe Ryan O’Neal. But that’s of course the hitch: Stallone insists, no matter how much money they try to put in front of him, that “I play Rocky.”The crux of the film, and its literal title, is also the most dramatically rewarding thing about Farrelly’s film. By virtue of the subject matter, we know who will ultimately play Rocky, but the way Peter Gamble’s screenplay and Farrelly’s direction ratchets up the pressure on Stallone brings into stark relief how miraculous his career breakthrough really was. Not only does the long setup draw on Farrelly’s comedic instincts to lean into the wry industry satire where a bunch of suits seem to doubt the movie star potential of Sylvester Stallone, but the film then piles on mountains of pressure atop that once invulnerable-seeming lead character.The offers start mild enough, even in 1975 money, with Winkler and Chartoff initially trying to lowball Stallone with a $15,000 writer’s fee. Before it’s over, the weeks-long negotiation will reach closer to the neighborhood of half a million dollars, provided that Stallone accepts his fate as behind a typewriter. In every scene between those figures though, Farrelly and Gamble steadily heat the stove beneath Stallone’s feet: he can longer afford to feed Bupkis, the dog he protected on the street, and must face the prospect of giving him away; Sasha reveals she is pregnant; his would-be studio head almost catches him working as a valet in Beverly Hills! Even his father shows up in LA to turn the screws.Farrelly is no stranger to playing fast and loose with facts in order to spin a good yarn—look no further than the lingering controversy around his Best Picture winner, Green Book—but the prevailing winds Stallone faced were so severe that he didn’t settle for a screenwriting career remains a remarkable achievement. It’s also fertile ground for Ippolito who at glance really does look like someone has de-aged Sly back to his youth. Ippolito’s performance is far fuller than impersonation, though; he gives Stallone a salt-of-the-earth underdog quality that is in obvious conversation with the Rocky character while also, if only faintly, hinting at an ego that never quite crossed over into the real Stallone’s cuddly onscreen alter-ego.That conversation between Stallone and Rock is at its best when it’s at a whisper during the pre-production process. Once the movie goes into production, it becomes a lot more conventional, with the Rocky making-of story insisting on rhyming with the 1976 classic to the point of occasionally straining credulity.Still, this is not all feel-good easter eggs or generic biopic hagiography. Those elements do exist, including with how much AnnaSophia Robb is similarly minimized into the role of supporting spouse by the movie’s third act, but there is still an inside-baseball ruefulness that makes it go down smooth. Byrne and Kebbell find every subtle variation of exasperation on the gradient wheel, and late blasts of energy by Jay Duplass as a tyrannical Avildsen and Stephan James as a braggadocious Carl Weathers only heightens the tone of a movie that’s at its best when it gets gossipy.I Play Rocky is a movie that succeeds at being a lot like the character it’s named after: the thing is big, loud, and wears its heart on its sleeve. I have little idea whether it’s the “real story,” but it is definitely a crowdpleasing yarn that leaves audiences feeling like they saw the little guy win one. It’s a movie that makes you appreciate every mile Stallone walked along that distance, and in its better moments just sits with him in the toughest stretches—making the happily ever after not quite so certain.I Play Rocky opens in limited release on Nov. 6 and wide on Nov. 20.The post I Play Rocky Review: A Crowdpleaser Sylvester Stallone Would Be Proud to Claim appeared first on Den of Geek.