Oscar Winner’s Latest Is an Insult to Stallone’s Classic

Amazon MGM Studios Throughout I Play Rocky , a based-on-real-events origin story for the 1976 boxing classic, Sylvester Stallone (Anthony Ippolito) repeatedly insists he must star in the movie because, for all intents and purposes, he is the Italian Stallion.

In doing so, however, he negates any reason for watching this corny pantomime, which reveals nothing, stumbles incessantly, and wholly pales in comparison to its iconic subject matter.

Simply put, if you want to watch a great feature about the Hollywood icon’s underdog triumph, just watch his legendary Oscar winner.

Premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival, I Play Rocky (in theaters Nov.

6) is a 127-minute game of dress-up from Green Book director Peter Farrelly that vacillates between reverent, community-theater-grade mythologizing and egregious Saturday Night Live -style hijinks.

Excruciatingly phony, its primary purpose is to state, restate, and then restate some more that Stallone put his heart and soul into his Rocky script and refused to give up on his dream of headlining it—just like his never-say-die protagonist’s determination to be a champion.

Otherwise, its sole objective is to mine nostalgia for everything it’s worth.

In this instance, it’s not worthy bupkis, which is not to be confused with Butkus, the abandoned puppy whom Stallone adopts after winding up on the streets in early 1970s New York City.

The down-on-his-luck guy desperately wants to be an actor.

Alas, everyone thinks he’s only cut out for thug and cop parts, and after a series of letdowns, he turns to softcore porn.

At that audition, he’s asked to strip naked and, upon dropping his pants, the female casting agent leans forward in eroticized awe and states, “You’re hired.” There’s no evidence that Stallone had direct input on this scene, but it’s an instance of goofy lionization that sets the tone for the rest of the proceedings.

Working at a movie theater, Stallone meets and woos Sasha (AnnaSophia Robb), who swiftly becomes his wife, the mother of his child, and his biggest supporter, convincing him that if he can’t nab the roles he wants, he should write one for himself.

Two years later, Stallone parks cars as a Los Angeles restaurant valet by day and pens prospective movies by night.

Thanks to the fortuitous help of an acquaintance, he lands a meeting with producers Irwin Winkler (P.J.