his sequel opens with a replaying of the final moments from the first film, which is a bold choice. It may take place directly after those events, but it re-shows not just the final round but also the one before it, allowing for all of the momentum and the power of the Oscar-winning original to generate hype – right down to the freeze-frame closing shot and Bill Conti’s rousing music. But can this sequel recapture or recreate the phenomenon from 1976?

“Do you think you have brain damage?” Without skipping a beat, Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) and his split-decision-winning opponent Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers) are ferried to the hospital, where the champion insists that he’ll rematch anytime, anywhere. Interestingly, there’s a hint of camaraderie there, too, as Apollo isn’t 100% combative. For the rest of the introductory sequences, Rocky goes about proposing and marrying Adrian (Talia Shire), who’s a bit concerned with the chance that their feelings for one another might fade, along with chatting with brother-in-law Paulie (Burt Young) and trainer Mickey (Burgess Meredith). But it’s also obvious that, despite insisting that he’s retired from fighting, he’ll return to the ring. “I hope nothing changes.”

Embracing the lighthearted awkwardness and simpleminded nature of overconfident Rocky and his painfully shy spouse, this film once again focuses quite a bit on the love story, which is still sweet and romantic. But it’s also pretty uncomfortable, as Rocky struggles to navigate newfound fame and wealth, overspending and making decisions that could best be described as hasty. He also comically contends with sponsors and representatives who want to make a quick buck from the boxer and his likeness; he’s not exactly an ideal candidate for commercials or anything that requires acting. And his intelligence and lack of an education are limiting; if he’s unable to sell products with his image, he’ll be forced to do something even less dignified – such as hauling meat around at the slaughterhouse. With his spurt of wealth, his lovable stupidity wears thin much quicker; he’s less of an underdog when he wastes his shot at success. “Would you be interested in some sort of manual labor?”

As time is spent away from the sport, the pacing starts to drag; since the characters were already established thoroughly in the previous episode, there isn’t much else to cover. And so it becomes the classic premise of the pugilist who knows nothing else, warned away from the ring by his doctors and his loved ones, but pressured (and bullied and humiliated) by society and economics to put himself back in harm’s way. It’s far from original, following a formula from plenty of other inspirational sports dramas, but at least it’s adding, commercially, to the tale of one of the most successful of fictional fighters. He may have nothing to prove, but he doesn’t exactly have much else to occupy his time. “You got the heart, but you ain’t got the tools no more.”

It takes more than an hour for the training montages to begin, and even then they’re interrupted by familial dramas, as this picture dwells not on the minutia of jabs and uppercuts (or the obvious differences between practicing with teams of people and top equipment and choice sparring partners, versus practicing with minimal resources), but on the connection between Rocky and Adrian. And then, motivational speeches arise, segueing into reluctance and waiting, before preparation for the inevitable rematch. Although Rocky can never really fight for the right reasons, since he squandered his opportunity at a second chance away from the ring, it’s amusing that he earnestly attempts to better himself through reading and writing before predictably succumbing to that unconquerable temptation – with a nonsensical blessing, out of the blue, from his significant other. By the end, with the repetition of his Philadelphia locales and the same nemesis in the spotlight, not much is different, except that Adrian can’t be a part of it in the same way, and the outcome has a chance (unconvincing as it may be) to go in the opposite direction. Either way, “Rocky II” didn’t really need to be made (regardless of the lengthy, brutal, admittedly tense boxing choreography that composes the last act) – a problem that countless sequels must deal with. “I think I’m becoming nobody again.”

– Mike Massie