Saccharine biography films are nothing new or unfamiliar, especially ones that glamorize the Hollywood myth-making machine from inside of itself. In fact, many cinephiles rebuke the subgenre for leaving a bad taste in their mouth, disqualifying it as fine art and instead relegating it to the "entertainment" bin. Those same filmic freaks have a habit of being quite persnickety of what is a "movie" and what is a "film." I Play Rocky is certainly the former, but does that really need to be a bad thing?

When Rocky first premiered, it did so in the shadow of the first wave of Hollywood blockbusters. Spectacle had become the name of the game at the domestic box office, in years prior films like The Exorcist and Jaws redefined what it meant for a film to be global phenomenon—of course, they did not outgross the likes of Gone with the Wind, but they dwarfed that film's legacy and cultural impact. Only a year later, in 1977, Star Wars would once again change the way we watch—and worship—cinema. In the middle of all that noise was Rocky. Not quite The Godfather and not quite One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, but something else entirely.

I Play Rocky's humble beginnings find Sylvester, no, Sly, no, "Mike" Stallone fumbling around New York, mealy-mouthing his way through auditions until he finally winds up unhoused and out-of-luck. From there, Stallone stumbles through more auditions, a role in a softcore film—but, by god, this film refuses to show you anything interesting about that experience. Apparently we can imply that Stallone has a massive hog, but we cannot dare see him show it off or use it, even with his loving wife. That, by the way, is a sign of the greater streak of conservatism that runs through the film. In the way it portrays relationships, the "greatness" of its white male lead, and it's strange anti-union sentiments.

Not to be sidetracked and rush through the plot, although that is exactly how the screenplay by Peter Gamble treats this story. Stallone's girlfriend, played well but not memorably by AnnaSophia Robb, suggest that Sly write a script for himself to star in and SMASH-CUT to six months later when Stallone finds himself presented with the perfect opportunity to slip his script for Paradise Alley into a pile of screenplays on Irwin Winkler's desk. Thus begins one of the most legendary negotiations in Hollywood history.

This middle section of the film, where Stallone is holding out on closing the deal to make Rocky until the producers and studio agree to let him star in the leading role, is the highlight of the experience. Every time Ippolito grumbles "No, I play Rocky." it's hard not to feel a bolt of lightning rush down your spine. The winning lead performance makes it impossible to not root for Stallone the same way that original film makes it impossible for you to not root for Rocky.

The film unfortunately falls even further into autopilot in the second hour, the direction from Peter Farrelly is never particularly impressive, but he really rests on limp laurels in the scenes when they're on set, sorting to cheap thrills.

I Play Rocky's Oscar hopes are presented fairly shamelessly. It clearly aims for the crowd-pleaser spot in the Best Picture 10 that's been occupied by the likes of F1 and A Complete Unknown, although it'd be surprising to see this garner quite as much attention as either of those. Anthony Ippolito is a safe bet to land a Leading Actor nod for his turn as Sly Stallone, the performance is uncanny in it's resemblance to his real life counterpart, and he's just so damn hot in this movie. Even the Academy can't resist a good piece of eye candy.

★★★

Kenna Wong Ghaill