directed by Martin Scorsese There seems to be a fascination among a lot of filmmakers with boxing. It’s a dance, they’ll tell you. A poetic ballet. Personally, I’ve never found that poetry in real boxing but it’s all there in Raging Bull. Like John Turturro in Barton Fink, except successful and not at all condescending, Martin Scorsese wants to show us the rich inner life of a class of people who are unlikely to ever go to college or pick up a book of philosophy. Hemingway wrote. Baryshnikov danced. Jake La Motta boxed.
