So many universal themes exist in Rocky that it can barely be called a “sports movie,” although it was the first from that genre to take home an Oscar for Best Picture. It’s about recognizing opportunities when they come along, finding the will to rise to the occasion, but mostly it’s about valuing potential, in ourselves and in others, despite all odds and circumstances.

In this case, life imitated art or vice-versa. Sylvester Stallone, a working actor, was at the end of his rope when an unprecedented $350,000 bid came in for the rights to his original screenplay for Rocky. He had a meager $106 dollars in the bank, no car, and he’d been forced to sell his dog, because he couldn’t afford to feed it. He knew the script was golden, though. He understood its potential, and he accepted the offer with one big caveat: he would only sign if he could star in it. He risked walking away empty-handed, but a deal was struck after Stallone agreed to work for scale as an actor and without a fee as a writer. Further limits were placed on the project when United Artists slashed the budget in half, from $2 million to $1 million, since there was no bankable star in the title role. Despite all the hurdles, this film went into production, Stallone bought his beloved dog Butkus back and put him in the movie, and the rest is history. He was right about his screenplay, too. It’s a powerful story that invests time in developing strong characters, sets up a seemingly insurmountable conflict, then builds in gradual stages toward an exhilarating conclusion.

Talia Shire as Adrian and Sylvester Stallone as Rocky.

Stallone plays Rocky Balboa, a warn-out southpaw from Philly, pushing 30, who supplements his love of boxing by working as a collector for a loan shark (Joe Spinell). We learn everything about Rocky by observing how he interacts with others in these opening scenes. The dialogue is lean but focused and revealing. The atmosphere and characters are rich and three-dimensional. Rocky isn’t bright, but he has a good heart. He’s passionate about boxing even if he’s not ambitious. He loves animals, and he’s sweet on a shy pet-store worker named Adrian (Talia Shire), the sister of his best friend Paulie (Burt Young). Paulie is verbally and emotionally abusive to Adrian, always putting her down and telling her she’s nothing. As the story progresses and Rocky brings out the best in her, it’s her brother Paulie who has a rude awakening that he’s fallen short of his own potential. Early on, Rocky gets his comeuppance as well when he loses his prime locker at the gym to a more promising fighter. The gym’s owner, an old trainer named Mickey (Burgess Meredith), is furious with Rocky because he knows how good he could have been. The tension between them gives us several strong scenes.

Meanwhile, World Heavyweight Champion, Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers), learns that his scheduled bout with an established contender has been cancelled due to injury. Creed comes up with an alternate plan, sure to generate big ratings and plenty of attention: he’ll offer a local boxer the chance to fight him on New Year’s Day for the title. It’s the American Dream, according to him. The land of opportunity. A perfect way to celebrate the Bicentennial. When Rocky is chosen, his initial reaction is to turn it down. It feels like a joke. The look in his eyes while he struggles with his internal demons is heartbreaking and profound. It’s a universal theme: we don’t always recognize big chances in life. We become our own worst enemy. We can’t see clearly and don’t trust ourselves. When Mickey suggests himself as the trainer, Rocky is furious. “Where were you years ago when I needed you?” he wonders. The scars are deep, the pain is palpable, and the acting is excellent. I love the parallel stories of Mickey recognizing potential in Rocky, and Rocky recognizing potential in Adrian. The characters grow and change and find themselves, and it’s a powerful journey.

Music is used sparingly throughout this film. Often it’s a solo piano, echoing the lonely image of an empty street or a darkened apartment. Over the closing credits, it’s a stirring, classical fugue played by a string ensemble. Bill Conti should have been honored by the Academy for his rousing score, but he did receive a nomination for co-writing the song “Gonna Fly Now,” which takes Rocky though his training process. It topped the Billboard charts and became an anthem in the ’70s.

Sylvester Stallone as Rocky.

I remember when this movie came out. I was 13 years old, and it was a monster hit. Early on, people were saying, “Don’t ruin the ending! Don’t tell anyone who wins!” Of course there’s always one wiseguy in a group of teenagers who gets off on spoilers. He told us who won, all right. I was disappointed going into the theatre, knowing the outcome … until I saw it. Rocky was not what I expected, for the many reasons I’ve mentioned. Even the fight at the end was unusual. No slow-motion shots with spit flying and punches echoing. Everything was in real time. It wasn’t a sports movie, either. That’s not what this is about. Rocky challenges himself. (I suppose I can spoil it now, after 40+ years.) Everyone expects him to go three rounds if he’s lucky before getting knocked out cold. Instead, he goes the distance and lasts a full 15 rounds with the World Heavyweight Champion. Although the fight is called in Creed’s favor, Rocky scores a personal victory. He’s beaten his own odds, he’s gained the love of Adrian, and he’s made an impact on people’s lives. The rest is incidental. Rocky, the film, also beat the odds. It came out of nowhere to grab the Oscar for the Best Picture of 1976.

Rocky