?Do you know why I talk so funny? Because I?ve been hit a million times.??Louis ?Mountain? Rivera in Requiem for a Heavyweight
There are three versions of Rod Serling?s iconic Requiem for a Heavyweight. The first version starred Jack Palance and dates from 1956, when it was broadcast live on Playhouse 90. The second version from 1957 starred Sean Connery and was shown on the BBC. The third and best known version is the 1962 film starring Anthony Quinn, Jackie Gleason and Mickey Rooney.
The producers change. The directors change. The actors change. Even the names of the main characters change. But the story, which changes as well, is essentially the same story, as well as the same old story.
I watched the Anthony Quinn version last night and it was as chilling as ever. Each character was archetypal?the over-the-hill fighter, the empathetic trainer, the manager without a soul?and each was a prisoner of his own limitations, a prisoner not eligible for parole.
One of the great things about Requiem for a Heavyweight, aside from giving former pugs (Jack Dempsey, Barney Ross, Willie Pep, Alex Miteff, Rory Calhoun, Gus Lesnevich, Abe Simon, Paolo Rosi) and a future champion (a made-for-the-movies Cassius Clay) meaningful film work, is the way it tapped into the fight game?s collective unconscious.
During the course of the film, which is as heartbreaking as ever, I kept telling myself, ?This is just a film. This is fiction.? But, as we know, it is not. The real fiction may be how boxing is perceived by the uninitiated, unaware or indifferent. Dramatic liberties were taken, cinema being a dramatic art. And the demands of box office are always a consideration. Still, witnessing a former contender get the living daylights beaten out of him is something lamentably close to home.
The end of the film, echoing the finales of Joe Louis and Primo Carnera, where the one-time headliner sells his dignity for a dollar, resonates with the majesty of grand opera. But instead of kettle drums to denote significance, the pounding is made by fists on flesh.
