Rent Raging Bull (1980)

A Masterpiece - Raging Bull review by PT

De Niro's finest performance I feel. La Motta ( De Niro) is a brilliant fighter but his people skills are appalling. He loves Vicky (an exceptional feature film debut by Cathy Moriarty) his wife with all his heart in his own way, but that way is terrible for her, and anyone who even looks in her direction. His total paranoia of her imagined infidelity and fancying other men culminates with brutal consequences for his brother ( Joe Pesci also outstanding).

Great boxing sequences, especially the fight with Sugar Ray, when La Motta takes a barbaric hammering, blood drenching the front row spectators in the carnage. What, and the way he says it to Sugar Ray Robinson after this savagery sums the man up. La Motta is hewn from granite, as is his personality. His caring, loving side is there, but the paranoia and total mistrust of his personality take precedence. What a film.

Outstanding - Raging Bull review by CP Customer

Outstanding description of a troubled individual wo cannot accept his success and the faithfulness of his close friends and family.

A Masterpiece About a Monster - Raging Bull review by griggs

Raging Bull feels like a film Scorsese made as if it were his last—every frame, every cut, every sound is delivered with a level of intensity that borders on obsession. The boxing scenes are astonishing. Shot with the camera tight in the ring, they create a sense of tunnel vision that draws you into each blow, each breath, each roar of the crowd. It’s not just visual—it’s visceral. You don’t just see the punches; you feel them.

But all of that would be style if it weren’t for the character study at the centre: Jake La Motta, pure undiluted toxic masculinity personified. I hadn’t seen this since a screening 25 years ago, which was cut short due to complaints about the violence and language. Fair enough—the domestic abuse scenes are brutal. But this is La Motta’s life, not fiction, lifted directly from his autobiography Raging Bull: My Story. If a screenwriter had invented him, he’d be accused of going too far. Emotionally stunted and prone to sudden, senseless violence, he’s a man incapable of love—only ownership. He beats his wife, alienates his brother, sabotages his own career, and still believes the world owes him something.

De Niro throws everything into this. He trained as a boxer, gained 60 pounds to play the washed-up La Motta, and famously pushed Scorsese to make the film. It shows. His performance is raw, unrelenting, and often hard to watch. Joe Pesci, pulled from obscurity and retirement by De Niro, matches him beat for beat.

Thelma Schoonmaker’s Oscar winning editing is extraordinary, turning chaos into poetry. Together, she and Scorsese created something close to cinematic perfection—about a man who was anything but. Still, it’s hard to ignore the uncomfortable truth that the film put La Motta back in the spotlight. A man who deserved to fade into obscurity found new fame—not despite his violence, but partly because of it.