Requiem for a Heavyweight

Mountain Rivera was almost the heavyweight champion of the world. The “almost” came at a price.

Requiem for a Heavyweight begins with Mountain’s final fight. We enter the ring in the closing seconds. A flurry of punches from Cassius Clay puts Mountain down for the count. We see the ref, the audience, his trainer, the cutman and the doctor from Mountain’s punch-drunk perspective. Back in the locker room, the doctor tells Mountain’s team that he cannot fight any longer. Time to hang up the gloves.

Over the rest of the film, we follow Mountain as he tries to find his place in the world. The only thing he knows how to do is fight. Yet this is one fight he is wholly unprepared for.

While looking for work, Mountain meets Grace Miller. She takes a liking to him for reasons that are not entirely clear. Ms. Miller doubles as both Mountain’s romantic interest and, oddly enough, something like a recruitment consultant, but it works. At the same time, Mountain’s manager, Maish, pushes him to take a wrestling gig. Mountain goes along with it.

There are a few good lines in the film. When Mountain and Ms. Miller find themselves on a quasi-date at a bar, they listen to music on the jukebox. Mountain says, “Them are violins,” as though he is hearing them for the first time.

And then there is this exchange after the quasi-date:

Mountain: One thing I’m sorry about is I don’t know music.
Ms. Miller: Why?
Mountain: Well, I feel like singin’.

Anthony Quinn plays a convincing washed-up boxer. Despite a few unconvincing air punches, he walks and talks like a man who has spent a few too many years in the ring.

The DP, Arthur J. Ornitz, gives us several excellent shots. The film opens with a tracking shot of spectators lined up at a bar, watching Mountain’s final fight. There are also several street shots that look like Edward Hopper paintings. And, of course, there is the mirrored shot below, which reminded me of a similar one in Cold War, which I watched last week.