Réquiem para un luchador

It's easy to pick out Jack Dempsey and Muhammed Ali, but there are many others in the cast. The movie fades in on a tracking shot running the length of a hotel bar, examining the faces of a bunch of retired boxers watching the Clay-Rivera fight on TV. In order of appearance: Alex Miteff (wearing a beret), Abe Simon (with an eyebrow bandage), Gus Lesnevich (holding a cigarette lighter), Steve Belloise (bald guy; he later plays the hotel bar desk clerk in a short exchange with Mickey Rooney), Rory Calhoun (black guy with a beer), Paolo Rossi (big Italian-looking guy with a beer), Willie Pep (wearing a fedora), and Barney Ross (the older guy in the suit, sweater, and tie).

The sport of professional boxing takes another beating in this tragic and powerful re-make of the Rod Serling Playhouse 90 teleplay. The film opens from the viewpoint of Mountain Rivera, a once ranked heavyweight, being pummeled by a youthful Cassius Clay. Rivera loses the fight, beaten so senseless that when asked where he is (NYC) he responds "I'm in Pittsburgh and its raining". When the the fight doctor examines him he makes it clear this broken down pug is all washed up. This puts his manager Maish in a bind since he bet Mountain wouldn't get past the fourth round with some thugs who also lost money because of his guarantee. Maish needs cash fast and the only way he can get it is to get his washed up fighter to wrestle. Rivera considers it degrading (remember it's 1962) and refuses.

Requiem is top heavy with strong performances from its quartet of leads. Jackie Gleason as sleazy Maish is given more to work with here than his Oscar nominated Minnesota Fats. He's a desperate man, wracked with guilt but ready to sell out Mountain to stay breathing. Mickey Rooney gives probably his finest adult performance as Army, the trainer who has Mountain's best interest at heart. Julie Harris as the social worker assigned to find him employment seems incapable of giving anything less than solid performances in everything she does and she does not disappoint here. Then there is Anthony Quinn doing what he does best but this time with a battered machismo that's barely holding together. Body broken, dreams shattered, he is a combination of punchy and naive; a hulking gruesome monster, but still a child inside. His plight is uneasy to witness and Quinn in conveying it has never been better.

Also deserving mention is night club owner and performer Madame Spivy playing Ma, the hood owed money. Dressed in a man's trench coat and hat she displays an offbeat menace with a clipped sardonic delivery that makes more than clear she is a woman not to be trifled with.

Director Ralph Nelson keeps things claustrophobic and low lit to emphasize the grim existence of the characters far from the big paydays and glamor of pay per view in Vegas. Their futures seem about as bright as the dark rooms they live in and the empty deserted streets they walk.

While it may not rank as one of the great fight films of all time,(unrestored cuts from the original print hamper the film's rhythm) Heavyweight's combination of excellent acting and story make it worth going the distance.

Jackie Gleason is in his element as promoter/manager/trainer of a broken down end-of-the-road boxer "Mountain Rivera" played brilliantly by Anthony Quinn. After 17 punishing years getting battered in the Ring "The Mountain" sports the scars, brain paralysis and the "shot" hoarse voice of an ex-fighter who is played to the hilt by Quinn. Mickey Rooney as "Mountain's" trainer is also sensational in his role. The whole cast in this film is simply fantastic. The writing of Rod Serling (of "Twilight Zone" fame) is masterful to say the least. Julie Harris who tries to provide hope for Rivera's future is beautifully and "tenderly" rendered on screen. The sleazy nature of the boxing business in the seedy surroundings of the cockroach infested hotel rooms is starkly defined in this black and white celluloid. There is a scene with Mickey Rooney and Jackie Gleason playing cards reminiscent of "The Honeymooners" with Art Carney when Gleason explodes in exasperation at Rooney who delays playing his hand at "gin" rummy. This is a taut and brilliantly portrayed film that everyone should see. Muhammed Ali (as Cassius Clay) is hauntingly shot at the beginning of the film. Jack Dempsey, the former heavyweight champ, is also shown at his restaurant in New York. The corruption and fear in this business is tellingly displayed. In fact this is a "must see" and "must own" kind of film. A Knock Out! As an aside, Jackie Gleason was so great on film partly because of his experience in live vaudeville shows. He grew up in abject poverty as a boy. This forced him out at an early age to make a living. The greatness came from hard times, talent and an insatiable work ethic. Thus the great talent of Jackie Gleason began to shine to the point of dethroning Milton Berle out of the top TV spot in 1954 as "The Honeymooners" stormed on screen. So many great talents from this era developed in the same way. Poverty and hard times had a way of producing talented star entertainers in the 30's and 40's. Perhaps this explains the lack of talent on screen today.

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.

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.