Somebody Up There Likes Me
Robert Wise (1956)
Paul Newman developed amazingly quickly as a film actor. There’s only a year (and three pictures) between this and The Long, Hot Summer, only one further year to Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. As the middleweight boxing legend Rocky Graziano, Newman is doing-a-character in a way that now looks uncharacteristically awkward. His portrait may, as suggested in the extract from a biography of him that was used as the BFI programme note, reflect an anxiety not to stand accused of imitating other, better-known actors who had been linked with the role. (Montgomery Clift turned it down; at the time of his death, James Dean had looked set to play it; Brando had got to know Graziano some years before and it was reckoned that some of the boxer’s mannerisms were incorporated into Stanley Kowalski.) Newman’s working-class New York accent (Graziano was born in Brooklyn before moving to Little Italy) can be particularly effortful. As Sally said, he comes in and out of character. But he’s nevertheless very likeable, he connects with Pier Angeli, who plays Rocky’s wife Norma, and he’s convincing in the fight scenes.
Viewed from this distance in time, Somebody Up There Likes Me is like a distillation of boxing biopic-melodramas of the era – both in the way it looks and the people it contains. The black-and-white visualisation of New York, especially the nighttime shots of the city, now has an almost nostalgic beauty. Characters like Rocky’s father (a much less successful boxer than his son) and Benny, the friendly homespun philosopher who runs a soda bar, seem generic and are broadly played; but the actors (Harold J Stone and Joseph Buloff respectively) have such powerful faces and commit to their roles so strongly that these stereotypes come across as archetypes. The same is true of Sal Mineo as a fiery street kid, Eileen Heckart as Rocky’s nobly supportive mother and Pier Angeli herself (although her acting – her combination of strength and delicacy – is more nuanced too). The climax – Rocky defeats the defending champion Tony Zale to win the world title – is vivid and compelling, and Paul Newman’s between-rounds talking to his seconds and himself very engaging. (So much so that it reminded me how I’ve always found the aestheticisation of the fight sequences in Raging Bull – the way Scorsese stages them as expressions of what’s going on inside Jake LaMotta’s head – something of a tautology.) Because I was rooting here for Rocky/Newman, the fight with Zale also made me feel what I’ve seldom felt watching either a real boxing match or a boxing drama: the allegedly undeniable ‘blood lust’ of the sport, the visceral desire to see one man beat another man into submission. The make-up by William Tuttle is impressive. The quality of the particular face that the cuts and bruises are disfiguring also plays its part.
I liked the way Robert Wise captured the streets of Little Italy, with the radio commentary blaring out and the eventual celebrations, on the night of Rocky’s greatest triumph. (The fight takes place in Chicago because he’s lost his licence to fight in New York.) And the final ride through the city in an open-topped car, when Rocky tells Norma they should savour the moment because he won’t be champion for ever (Zale won a rematch less than a year later, in June 1948), is very appealing. Rocky says, ‘Somebody up there likes me’, and Norma replies, ‘Somebody down here likes you too’. Assuming that this was a good, humorous, vernacular title, I wasn’t prepared for the title song, by Bronislau Kaper and Sammy Cahn, which takes the idea seriously to a ridiculous, religiose degree. Everett Sloane gives a good performance as Rocky’s manager. The uncredited members of the cast include Steve McQueen, Robert Loggia and (according to IMDB) Robert Duvall. Academy Awards for Best Cinematography (Joseph Ruttenberg) and Art Direction (Cedric Gibbons et al).
1 April 2010