Well, I may have resisted it for 45 years, but eventually having a film bestowed with the title of 'one of the greatest ever' becomes too difficult to resist. So, in Scorsese's third collaboration with Robert De Niro, we get the warts-and-all story of 1940s boxing champ Jake LaMotta, shot in black and white both as a decision to avoid glamourising the character, and yet also following the vogue of auteur-driven drama films of the time (Manhattan, Eraserhead and The Elephant Man, to name just a few of the more successful examples).
It certainly doesn't work as a boxing film (the fights pay less attention to realistic technique than even Rocky did), but then it never means to, being only concerned with the rage and self-loathing of an inarticulate man. So he paranoically rails against everybody around him, constantly accusing those closest to him of lying and ending up finally ending up beating his wife. In short, as detestable a prick of a protagonist as you could ever expect to see in a big film, and it's hence not surprising that it just goes around and around in circles, LaMotta learning very little from it all. Still, you have to admire the performances of the leads, as well as the bravery of De Niro and Scorsese for going out on such a limb.
7/10
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