This Underdog Still Packs a Punch

Mason "The Line" Dixon (Antonio Tarver) and Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) battle it out in the ring in "Rocky Balboa." (By John Bramley)

In "Rocky Balboa," there's Sylvester Stallone again, sucking down raw eggs and pounding sides of beef to train for another prime-time bout. His opponent this time: heavyweight champ and insufferable braggart Mason "The Line" Dixon (Antonio Tarver), who has something to prove. Sportswriters call him a chump who never really fought a tough contender. No one like that old war horse Rocky Balboa.

Old is right.

And yet . . . and yet . . . this critic found himself sitting there rooting for this movie to work. Just one last time. The odds seemed impossible -- just like Rocky's in all these movies. The verdict?

There were titters, yes. But mostly, the theater was silent. People were watching. And to this viewer, at least, sentimentality won by a knockout. "Rocky Balboa" comes out swinging as soon as the "Rocky" theme blares from the speakers -- that portentous anthem that has most of us picturing Philadelphia's First Citizen at the top of the steps of the Museum of Art, arms aloft.

Cue the crowds, the trash talking, the early-morning workouts and that glorious walk toward the ring. In Vegas. Ten rounds. Mano a mano. But it feels like the first fight all over again. And suddenly a silly little movie built entirely on classic hokum seems to matter. Not just because it's one last roundhouse punch at the world of digital zeros and ones. Not just because it's another underdog story. It matters because this boxer taps into something deeper in our collective souls than the desire for entertainment. It's the hope that one day we're going to win big, too, after everyone has given up on us. It's as hokey as it is true.

-- Desson Thomson

Rocky Balboa PG, 102 minutes Contains boxing violence and minor profanity. Area theaters.