Currently available in video
***1/2 out of five stars
by Walter G. Tarrow
This poor man’s version of “Raging Bull” was in very limited release and that’s a shame. An independent film treatment of the true story of New Jersey boxer Chuck Wepner, the “Bayonne Bleeder,” who fought, and lost to, Muhammad Ali in 1975 for the world heavyweight championship and who was the inspiration for the movie “Rocky.”
The film has other Martin Scorsese feels to it with the dialogue and setting, and especially with Liev Schreiber’s narrating, as Chuck, which is reminiscent of Henry Hill in Scorsese’s “Goodfellas.” However, and here’s the central theme, unlike Henry’s narration, Chuck talks about Chuck and only Chuck. He “coulda been a contendah,” and he kind of was, and he never lets anyone fuhgeddaboutit.
From childhood Chuck could take a punch, much like Robert De Niro’s Jake La Motta in Raging Bull. His ability to take a beating gets him a world ranking and eventually a shot at Ali and the title. Meanwhile he works as a liquor salesman, writes poems to his wife and screws around.
His attempts at capitalizing on the success of Stallone’s Rocky are painful and tragic. Stallone is played as respectful, fair and encouraging, but Chuck will always be just a contender.
Filmed in Bulgaria and clearly on a shoestring, the Eastern European shoot provide
s a ’70s look to the whole proceeding and captures the feel of being on Scorsese’s Mean Streets.
Philippe Falardeau goes brilliant in casting against type. Schreiber acts totally comfortable and natural as some guy from Jersey who could take a punch and another and another. His beat up face, wise guy swagger and human failings are completely convincing. Elizabeth Moss, the excellent actress she is, pulls off the wronged Jersey girl wife as smart and honest. Even Naomi Watts, as the barmaid whom he fancies, captures her character well. Others, from Ron Perlman to Michael Rappaport to (I never would have thought of him in this role) comedian Jim Gaffigan, as Chuck’s best friend, deliver solidly.
It is a bit too heavy handed with repeated references to “Requiem for a Heavyweight.” Chuck, like Quinn’s Mountain Rivera, shows us that he was no punk, was almost heavyweight champion of the world, and that he too, at one point, ends up a mockery of himself. In one scene, he literally does an imitation of Rivera.
Being much too familiar, the film makes sure to hit all the boxing pic established beats like the dysfunctional personal life, the grasping for and missing the brass ring, the tantalizing taste of success and the drug-fueled fall from grace. Even so, Chuck manages to come across as that wise guy, a bit of a celebrity, who walks into a bar and you’re still glad you got to meet him.
