RAGING BULL - DVD review

There's been quite a fuss over Jamie Foxx's amazing portrayal of soul singer Ray Charles, and deservedly so. But in 1980, Robert De Niro all but set the bar for biopic performances when he made "Raging Bull," which is rated among the top 25 films of all time by the American Film Institute.

De Niro studied boxing films, boxed, and had extensive conversations with former middleweight champion Jake La Motta so that he could transform himself into a walking, talking, virtual clone of the boxer. He also gained a ton of weight in order to play the older, paunchier and raunchier nightclub circuit performer that La Motta became in his retirement. Now, of course, actors gain and lose weight all the time for a role, but back then it was unheard of—extremist, even.

With the release of MGM's two-disc "Collector's Set/Special Edition" of "Raging Bull," we get a sense of just how good De Niro's performance really was. For fans of the film, this is a must-own DVD, because it includes three separate full-length commentaries, including one where the real La Motta jabs and jabbers away, interviewed by his nephew. And namesake Jake Lustig does a fantastic job of prodding Uncle Jake, a man who, if you said the wrong thing, could explode like a car tumbling over a cliff. As La Motta speaks, it's hard not to think back to the film and De Niro's voice patterns and shake your head at how identical the voices are, and how De Niro absolutely nailed all the subtle traces of personality that each line and hesitation reveals. He captured the simple but raw power of La Motta, as well as his bombast and prevarications.

In the same commentary, after a half-hour of listening to the real thing we get longtime Scorsese buddy Mardik Martin, who met the director at NYU when they were sophomores, and who had done "Mean Streets" and "New York, New York" with Scorsese and De Niro. Martin talks about how "Raging Bull," the paperback biography co-authored by La Motta, Peter Savage, and Joseph Carter that the book was loosely based on, was a "bunch of bull." No one pulls punches when it comes to this film. It was "the cliché of all clichés (a boxer with marital problems who throws in with the mob?), Martin says, describing the research he did in order to try to get at the truth. Then it's back to the two Jakes, and then more of Martin before a third commentary voice kicks in—that of Paul Schrader. Schrader was directing "Hardcore" when De Niro called and said they needed help with the script, even after Martin had worked on it. And Schrader tells how the first thing he did was to go down to Key West and check the archives at the local newspaper, the Citizen, where he learned that there were two boxing La Mottas, Jake and Joey. Jake had apparently written his brother out of his autobiography, and that, Schrader says, is when he knew he had found the story he wanted to tell.

The focus in "Raging Bull" is on the relationship between La Motta and his less physically but more verbally skilled brother, Joey. And Joe Pesci was practically typecast in a role that would resurface throughout his career in one way or another: the littler, get-no-respect tough guy who bumbles and stumbles but is still capable of surprising violence. We'll see it in "Goodfellas," and we'll see it toned-down in the "Lethal Weapon" films and comedies. But Pesci doesn't get any better than he is here, playing off of De Niro. The two of them together are absolutely mesmerizing, and Scorsese and Co. produce a film that captures every single nuance of the period. From the hair styles and suits to the mannerisms and expressions, Scorsese makes you believe that this is an old black-and-white film from the Forties and early Fifties. Even the faux home movies that appear in color were made to resemble actual home movies that La Motta shot. Down to every last detail, Scorsese gets it right. And when you combine a research-based script with filming precision, crisp editing, and top-notch performances, you get a film that deserves a spot on the top-25 list.

"Raging Bull" begins with an aging La Motta rehearsing his schtick for a nightclub audience, a routine that includes jokes and lines from Shakespeare, which, we learn on one commentary, the retired La Motta actually performed. Then it's flashback time, and we're transported to the fight in Cleveland at the beginning of the Forties when a riot breaks out after the refs awarded the fight to La Motta's opponent, though Jake had knocked the guy silly. It's that publicity that gets La Motta's name known across the country. Then the narrative picks up in the Bronx, 1941, and we begin to see the two brothers hanging out and Jake's early marriage and marital friction. With fights acting as both milestones and touchstones, Scorsese explores La Motta's equally volatile personal life. It's not a favorable portrait, and yet La Motta on the commentary seems as comfortable (cocky?) now with who he is as he's always been.

Now, it's all about the heavyweights. But back when boxing was in its hey-day, all divisions got big press. Jack Dempsey fought as a middleweight. Tony Zale and Rocky Graziano? Middleweights. Sugar Ray Robinson? Middleweight. And some of the division's most memorable bouts were the six fights between Robinson and La Motta. La Motta held the title from 1949-51, and Robinson held a share of it in 1951 and also 1955-59. This film skips across the surface of the boxing world, touching down on the La Motta vs. Zivic fight (1943), the Basora and Kochan fights (1945), the Edgar, Satterfield, Bell, Janiro, and Fox fights (1946-47), the championship fight against Cerdan in 1949, and several other fights leading up to when he lost the title to Robinson. Yet, for all the boxing that's showcased in this biopic, it's the off-canvas antics of the two La Motta brothers and their women that capture our attentions. Though the real La Motta says that Cathy Moriarty isn't half as beautiful as the real Vickie La Motta, the actress does a fine job as a Lolita-like siren who becomes the fighter's girlfriend and then wife in a subtly evolving abusive relationship. And Nicholas Colasanto (who played Coach on "Cheers") is understated as Tommy Como, the underworld figure who tries to get his hooks into La Motta through Joey.

Video:
"Raging Bull" is presented in anamorphic widescreen (1.85:1 ratio)black and white. There's slight graininess apparent in some of the extreme facial close-ups and darkened or shadowy shots, but otherwise the picture is sharp and really carries the "codes" of Forties' and Fifties' atmospheric ambience. Because I don't have a copy of the first release and the technical specifications don't indicate whether there's been an upgrade, I'm afraid I tell if the picture quality is better than on the first release. My guess is that it might be the same, since the soundtracks are identical.

Audio:
The soundtrack is English Dolby Digital 5.1 Surround and Stereo 2.0 Surround, or French and Spanish Mono, with English, French, and Spanish subtitles. As with the video, I have no complaints about the sound. It may not be as rock-'em-sock-'em bell-ringing clear as some of today's tracks, but part of the goal of the filmmakers was to deliberately work with black and white and sound that would be high quality yet approximate the look and feel of an older film.

Extras:
Talk about knock-out extras! There are three (count 'em) commentaries, with the best of the bunch the "storyteller's," featuring La Motta (interviewed by his nephew) with separately spliced-in clips from Martin and Schrader. It's quirky and revealing, especially with the speakers weighing in with disagreements as they collectively tell how La Motta's autobiography was turned into a film. It's almost as compelling as the film itself, and La Motta is outrageous, telling how he never lost a street fight, never lost a reform school fight, never lost as an amateur fighter (he learned boxing in reform school), and went undefeated in his first 18 professional fights. And he pulls no punches. When nephew Jake asks whether La Motta had to marry his first wife, he says, "Yeah, we got married because she got pregnant." How can you not like a commentary like that? Some commentaries I half-listen to, or feel free to get up and stretch or raid the refrigerator while the voices drone on. This one had me stuck to my seat the entire time.

Editor Thelma Schoonmaker, who won an Oscar for her editing on the picture, joins Scorsese on the director's commentary track, which is less free-wheeling and, predictably, more oriented toward the technical aspects and details of filmmaking. Still, it's always a pleasure to listen to Scorsese talk, especially when it's a film that's regarded as one of his best, and Schoonmaker's comments will be of special interest to film students. All the fight scenes were apparently shot in L.A., with every fighter and referee in the film ACTUAL fighters and refs. Scorsese, who admits to not liking boxing much, scheduled five weeks to film the fight scenes, but it took them ten. And then there are the random nods, as when Scorsese remarks of a fire escape that it was one of the fire escapes in Hell's Kitchen.

The third commentary also manages to cover different ground, though you can't tell the players without a scorecard. Joining producers Irwin Winkler and Robert Chartoff are a number of talents: Robbie Robertson (formerly of The Band, who arranged several of the songs and talks about the music); and director of photography Michael Chapman, who also worked on "Taxi Driver" and offers up some pretty random remarks, as when he points out in the opening credits how he was responsible for the flashbulbs going off (wearing black velour so as not to be seen). Sound effects supervising editor Frank Warner chimes in on that topic, with other comments coming from actress Theresa Saldana (who plays the first Mrs. La Motta), actor John Turturro (who's strangely in on the commentary despite having just an uncredited bit part as a man at a table), and Cis Corman, whose job I somehow missed as the commentaries rolled on.

There's some overlapping among the features, but they're also well done. The best of these are the boxing artifacts, one a shot-by-shot comparison of De Niro and La Motta fighting (and we learn in the extras that De Niro actually got in the ring with the real Bronx Bull, and La Motta was quite complimentary, saying De Niro could be a successful boxer if he wanted), and the other actual newsreel footage of one of La Motta's title defenses. There are five short featurettes that really could have been one large "making of" feature, one of them concentrating on pre-production, another on the fight choreography, another on more technical aspects, and the others behind-the-scenes.

You don't have to be a boxing fan to be mesmerized by "Raging Bull," and you certainly don't have to be one to find these features a real treasure. Rounding out the extras is an eight-page booklet that includes photos and information not covered in the audio commentaries or featurettes.

Bottom Line:
"Raging Bull" is as riveting as a train wreck in slow motion, a black-and-white spectacle that captures the volatile personality of a man who punished himself as much as he punished others. Music by Pietro Mascagni, performed by the Orchestra of Bologna Municop Theatra under the direction of Arturo Basile, provides a poetic undercurrent that softens the violence, and the music and cinematography combine to create a beautiful, flowing portrait, no matter how violent the action gets. Aside from the astounding performances by De Niro and Pesci, that's the achievement of this film, and one reason why it remains a classic.