Would you take the money or bet on yourself? With Sylvester Stallone not listed as part of the production, “I Play Rocky” (2026) is a healthy mix of fact and fan fiction as it depicts the birth of actor and writer Sylvester Stallone from his salad days in Manhattan when he still called himself Mike to the beginning of his success thanks to the Oscar Award winning “Rocky” (1976). Anthony Ippolito plays Sylvester and an outstanding ensemble cast keeps the momentum rising in this crowd-pleasing movie about how Sylvester decided to write a movie so he could finally get cast as the star. With a runtime of two hours eight minutes, the first hour may feel like a slog, but the second half travels light.
I walked into “I Play Rocky” with the scales weighed against it. I’m not fond of watching movies about people who are still alive or people whom I know a lot about, which may be why the first hour was the hardest to get through. As undeniably impressive as Ippolito is, if you know the real-life person, it feels a little uncanny valley. He feels like Jeremy Allen White in Sly Stallone drag. After watching the movie and discovering that the actor is unrelated to the Stallone family, objectively, he nailed it, but still, like Nicholas Galtizine in “Masters of the Universe” (2026), Ippolito seems physically more rounded and softer than Stallone, who looked like all muscle and all brawn, no brains while obviously possessing all the brains necessary to become an icon. I’m a hard customer because Stallone has been in front of my eyes since I opened them (hi, WPIX, I miss you), and even I think my criticism of Ippolito is harsh, but it is only because of my inability to stop comparing him to the real deal. It is not an impossible task, but this movie is no “Tony” (2026).
“I Play Rocky” bears a lot of similarities in story structure to “Rocky” with the first hour devoted to the way that he prepares to become Sylvester: the workouts, the auditions, the shitty jobs and the worse accommodations. As a native, Manhattan was seedier than the on-screen approximation. The first hour is devoted to establishing the foundational romance between Sylvester and Sasha Czack (AnnaSophia Robb), also known as the first wife and mother of his children. While the actors have tons of chemistry and the relationship is framed as the bedrock of his success, it is impossible to suspend disbelief when you come to the theatre forearmed with the knowledge of a future offscreen relationship with supermodel Janice Dickinson. Awwww, look at the cute relationship that is going to end after he gets his feet under him. Robb conveys how Sasha is often more on Sylvester’s side than he is, and writer Peter Gamble adds a nice foreboding scene that has Sasha questioning the health of a relationship during a relatable decision instead of the typical cliches that Stallone did such as getting high on his own supply and rampant philandering. Director Peter Farrelly primarily depicts Sasha with the visual vocabulary of a supportive stay at home wife when she was not. Gamble may have waited a beat too late to add some throwaway dialogue to explain how two working adults still had more month at the end of the money.
The second half of “I Play Rocky” is so much more engrossing because it is the equivalent of a relay race with character actors passing the baton to take center stage before passing it to their colleague. Everyone gets a chance to chew the scenery in a way that just stops short of playing to the backrow in a theater. While Sylvester is supposed to be the protagonist, the producers, Irwin Winkler (P.J. Byrne in his largest and most relatively wholesome role of the year) and Robert Chartoff (Toby Kebbell, a Brit), shoulder the burden of the movie’s momentum as it becomes a movie about a scrappy underdog to the “let’s put on a show” trope. It is a neat narrative shell game that is easy to miss because Sylvester is still present, but he alternates between protagonist and supporting actor until “Rocky” is a wrap. It is like getting multiple movies for the price of one with a different star for each scene.
Matt Dillon lays the psychological groundwork as Frank Stallone Sr., Sylvester’s dad with nary a mention of Jr. Put Tracy Letts in anything, and he elevates the place, including as Sandy Maddox, a composite character of United Artists executives, who has a grievance with Paramount, which elicited a ton of chuckles from an audience apparently well versed in the business called show. If you ever go to a screening with film critics, listen closely because someone, often me, will whisper reverently, “Tracy Letts,” the minute that he appears on screen. Stephan James almost steals the entire movie when he appears as Carl Weathers, who played Apollo Creed in “Rocky.” “I Play Rocky” sometimes forgets that looking and sounding like someone matters less than capturing the essence of a person as the collective consciousness imagines them to be in real life, not necessarily who they are, and James embodies that in a way that Ippolito does not quite reach. Jay Duplass as “Rocky” director, John G. Avildsen, verges on unrecognizable as a lovable asshole who ties all the themes together. Saul Stein gets a single scene as Sal, a New York union guy who drives to the “Rocky” set. Stein brings the house down.
“I Play Rocky” is only one of two movies (the other is “How to Rob a Bank”) released this week that is set in Pennsylvania, which is apparently cinematic code for people who are down and out. Sal is the movie’s enemy and lumped together with the mob and Teamsters while the producers are associated as the champion of the underdog, Sylvester. Remember Farrelly is the guy who brought “Green Book” (2018) to the world. He is a man of the establishment, not the people. In reality, Stallone reportedly felt that Winkler slighted him because he signed over his rights to the “Rocky” franchise. Regardless of whether Stallone has a right to feel aggrieved, it is a clever bit of sophistry to make a biopic about an actor that champions a person whom he side-eyes for decades while painting a union member as the big bad. Movies are not apolitical. Farrelly’s proclivity to choose working class veneer to sell regressive ideas seems to be a schtick that works. Movies transmit values so subtlety that the average viewer may not notice how they are shifting sentiment for you to relate to the people who may not have your best interest at heart and remain guarded and ridicule the ones who do. It is not expensive to have a union. It is called a living wage. Do people who work on movies have a right to feed their family?
On a cynical note, “I Play Rocky” obviously capitalizes on the love and success of “Rocky” to piggyback further off its good will and metabolize it as their own. Part of the movie becomes a clip show of the classic. Farrelly’s movie becomes the equivalent of a cover band rehashing someone else’s greatest hits. The revelation of “Sesame Street” innovation from Garret Brown (Michael Fuchs) as the most valuable player on the “Rocky” set is superior to the spot on recreations. The boxing and fencing choreographer, Grant Bader (Trevor St. John), scenes lead to some interesting Hollywood history and insight on physical narrative, which was engrossing and was an important way to honor Stallone’s innovation, but underutilized.
If you decide to see “I Play Rocky” in theaters, stay until the lights come up to catch a long clip of the real Stallone talking about his success. Even if you are not a “Rocky” or Stallone fan, you will enjoy this underdog success movie, especially if you enjoy anyone in the cast. If you are expecting anything other than a conventional, safe movie, you will be disappointed, and Stallone purists (not the same as a fan) may find it challenging to suspend disbelief but will validate that the broad strokes are accurate. To Ippolito, I owe you one! Maybe.
