Una faccia piena di pugni

This is a golden oldie if there ever was one. Adapted from Rod Serling's earlier `Playhouse 90' TV drama, it improved greatly on the original by taking full advantage of the film medium, including moody film-noir lighting, an excellent music score, and superb direction. Anthony Quinn is excellent, getting all the pathos out of the role without overdoing it. Mickey Rooney and Jackie Gleason, neither of whom is renowned for subtlety and restraint, hit just the right note in their performances, as does Julie Harris. The ending of this film couldn't be more different than the `Playhouse 90' ending. One of the more bizarre elements of this film, which was not in the original TV play, is the character of Ma Greeney, a really frightening person and the only example I am aware of in film of a lesbian gangster (and in 1962, yet). I can still remember how startled I was to see this character when I first watched this film on TV back in the late 1960s.

The new DVD of `Requiem for a Heavyweight' offers both a full-screen and wide-screen presentation. The quality of the transfer is really outstanding. The liner notes indicate that it is mastered in high definition. While I don't have the hardware to watch it in high-def., I can say that on an ordinary monitor it looks outstanding. Perhaps the sharpest DVD picture I've ever seen. The sound is clear, and the subtitles are very helpful in picking out dialog that may be indistinct, or not easily understood because of Anthony Quinn's manner of delivering the lines while in character.

However. It seems to me that at least one whole scene and a part of another scene is missing. I distinctly remember Maish (Jackie Gleason) telling Ma Greeney what he would do to her if she weren't a lady. In response, she laughs and says `that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.' This is part of the early scene where Maish is attacked in an abandoned boxing ring by Ma's thugs. There is another whole scene I can recall in which Mountain (Anthony Quinn) is practicing holds with a wrestler. He asks that the wrestler stay away from his injured eye, and when he purposely goes for the eye, Mountain punches his lights out. The cuts I recall seeing on TV years ago always included these scenes, and I've never seen this shortened cut of the film before. It's still a great film, but I really miss these two scenes.

This Rod Serling written story originally was televised on the old CBS Playhouse 90 program which was live TV. This film produced by David Susskind sticks pretty much to the Playhouse 90 version with a few variations and a couple of characters. Anthony Quinn seems more like a heavyweight than Jack Palance did for one thing and the individual that Maish Rennick is in debt to is also more colorful than in the Teleplay. Jackie Gleason, Mickey Rooney and Julie Harris are as good in their roles as the actors who were in the Teleplay. The ending is slightly different and I found it to have more stark realism than the Teleplay. Check out the fighter that Mountain is in the ring with when the film starts.

A sad, heartbreaking, and somewhat disturbing story. Quinn is totally believable as Mountain Rivera, a boxer who, perhaps, has been in the game too long and finds himself forced out. While his world-weary cut man (Rooney) is protective of him to an extent, his manager (Gleason) only views Rivera as a paycheck. An unemployment agency staff person (Miller) sees something in Rivera that prompts him to go above and beyond the call of duty to help him get a job. All of the leads are extremely good. It appears that most of the film takes place in the dark, highlighting the seamy side of boxing. The only daytime scene is when Rivera visits the unemployment office, and even then, it appears that the place has no windows to see outside. The office is just as closed up and restricted as Rivera's limited choices after his career ends. The actress who portrayed the underworld figure that Rivera's manager has a connection to was appropriately evil and creepy. The very last scene, filled with a sense of finality and resignation, is powerful.

Rod Serling, of Twilight Zone fame, deserves kudos for this wonderful screenplay about an over the hill fighter played by Anthony Quinn, whose life and legend are at the behest of his corrupt and cynical manager, Jackie Gleason. Trainer Mickey Rooney is the only person in cinematic history who can call Gleason a "fink" and make it sound authentic. When Quinn's character can't cut it any longer, he tries to find meaningful work. However, he's taken one too many blows to the head, and has offered his allegiance to someone willing to betray him for a hint of the glory of the old days. Quinn's performance as the punch drunk fighter is full of pathos and extremely well done -- his finest hour in my opinion. Serling has much to say about the human spirit, love, and friendship gone awry. Beautifully photographed in black and white, this film deserves multiple viewings.

I had missed out on an Italian TV broadcast of this acclaimed boxing drama in the 80s and, even if it did get released on DVD on both regions, I never got to pick it up until now because its lack of any significant supplements kept pushing it back. Anyway, I got to watch and own it now and it was certainly worth the wait as this must surely rank among the best films that deal with boxing. Interestingly, REQUIEM FOR A HEAVYWEIGHT was originally previewed at a much longer running time (featuring some 16 minutes of additional footage) but the version I watched is the more familiar 86-minute cut.

The film was superbly written by Rod Serling – best-known for writing many of THE TWILIGHT ZONE (1959-64) episodes and introducing the show – who, among others, provided the screenplay for such notable films as PATTERNS (1956), SEVEN DAYS IN MAY (1964) and PLANET OF THE APES (1968). Actually, this was the fourth filming of the play and previous TV versions – both made in 1957 – starred Jack Palance and, of all people, Sean Connery in the role played here by Anthony Quinn!

The four leads are all outstanding: Quinn gives what is arguably his most moving performance as the dim-witted boxer who cannot even talk coherently with all the beatings he took in the ring and might even lose his sight if he keeps at it much longer; Jackie Gleason is excellent as Quinn's manager who is driven to bet against his own man in order to collect some fast dough and pay off his debts to an androgynous racketeer breathing down his neck; Mickey Rooney is just terrific as Quinn's loyal handler (and an ex-prizefighter himself) who quickly sees through all of Gleason's schemes to keep Quinn in the ring for his own personal gain; and Julie Harris as the lonesome social worker who takes pity on Quinn and tries to get him employed away from ringside perils. The blooming MARTY (1955)-ish romance between Quinn and Harris is perhaps a bit too good to be true and occurs rather too suddenly for this cynical viewer but it does not in any way detract from the film's stifling recreation of the seamy ambiance –strikingly similar to that of THE HUSTLER (1961), also featuring Jackie Gleason – aided in no small measure by Arthur J. Ornitz's noir-ish lighting and Laurence Rosenthal's jazzy score, not to mention the appearance of real-life boxing pros such as Cassius Clay (playing himself as one of Quinn's ringside opponents) and Jack Dempsey.

Ralph Nelson was an erratic director with pretensions: I've watched 8 of his films so far and a few more have been numerous times on TV – FATHER GOOSE (1964), ONCE A THIEF (1965), THE WRATH OF GOD (1972) – so I guess I should make an extra effort now to catch them the next time they're on; REQUIEM FOR A HEAVYWEIGHT, while actually his debut film, remains possibly his most satisfying work all round and deservedly earned him a nod from the Directors' Guild of America.