Scene Description Spotlight: “Raging Bull”
Sports movie are tough to write for many reasons. Here’s one of them: How to describe athletic action without being too specific and ‘stagey’ or too generic and inauthentic. A screenplay that does a great job on this front is Raging Bull (1980). Adapted by Paul Schrader and Mardik Martin from a book by Jake LaMotta with Joseph Carter & Peter Savage, there are well over a dozen boxing matches featured in the movie. How to handle all that action?
Early on, the script establishes a spirited but graphic approach to scene description as here in the story’s first fight:
The bell sounds for the tenth. JAKE pulls himself up and
charges at REEVES.
REEVES slides away, jabbing, punching, piling up points.
In JAKE’s corner, JOEY stands and yells at JAKE:
JOEY
A grand apiece! We got a grand
apiece on this, Jake! A fucking
grand!
JAKE suddenly corners REEVES and unleashes a desperate, wild
alley-fighting attack. One ferocious punch after another.
The SPECTATORS go wild; everyone’s up for the kill.
REEVES staggers, then falls to the canvas.
Strong descriptors to convey the action and mood: charges, jabbing, punching, corners, unleashes, wild alley-fighting attack, ferocious punch, staggers, falls. If you read just those words, you get a sense of what’s happening in the scene.
In a later scene, one that has been fixed, the script balances the action in and out of the ring:
INT. MADISON SQUARE GARDEN — NIGHT (NOV. 14, 1947)
The old Garden is packed. The EX-CHAMPS, the PRESS, the
OFFICIALS, the MOB GUYS, the FANS — they’re all here.
The FIGHTERS are announced. BILLY FOX and JAKE touch gloves
and return to their corners.
FOX is taller and has a longer reach than JAKE.
The bell sounds and the FIGHTERS come out. FOX goes to the
head; JAKE goes to the body.
FOX lands a solid blow to JAKE’s jaw, but LAMOTTA is unfazed.
FOX is surprised. In the past, his opponents have gone down
when he connected.
In the audience, COMO, SALVY, and some other BOYS watch with
interest.
JAKE moves in with a rapid series of trademark body blows.
All of a sudden, FOX is wobbly. JAKE goes for the head, then
cuts his punch short. FOX is about to go down.
JAKE throws his arms around FOX to make sure he doesn’t fall.
JAKE
(to Fox)
Stand up! What the fuck are you
doin’?
The REFEREE breaks them apart and FOX remounts his attack.
JAKE bicycles into a corner and lets FOX work him over.
FOX connects: once, twice, three times. JAKE barely defends
himself — but he doesn’t go down either.
The CROWD starts to smell a fix. There are calls from the
AUDIENCE.
CROWD
Got your swimming trunks on, Jake?
I hope they’re paying you enough.
Fake, fake.
TIME CUT:
JAKE’s corner. JAKE is acting stunned. TONY, not aware of
what’s going on, is slapping JAKE.
TONY
What’s the matter with you? What’s
the matter with you?
TIME CUT:
The sign reads “Round Four.” JAKE is in the center of the
ring taking a relentless pasting from FOX. JAKE’s arms hang
at waist level… FOX lands one blow after another. The stink
of a fix permeates the arena.
JAKE is furious that FOX can’t deck him. He curses through
his mouthpiece (as he absorbs blow after blow):
JAKE
Hit me! Hit me! What’s the matter
with you, you motherfucker? Hit me!
Boos and catcalls echo through the Garden. This is not even a
fight. The REFEREE, realizing this, steps in between FOX and
LAMOTTA, waves his arms and signals that FOX is the winner by
a technical knockout.
As he does, JAKE spits his mouthpiece in disgust at FOX and
struts back to his corner.
JAKE, JOEY, and TONY are already on their way out of the
arena as the REFEREE declares FOX the winner.
COMO and the OTHERS, satisfied, get up to leave.
A lot of great imagery, but if you’ve got a killer visual up your sleeve, save it for the end of the scene: As he does, JAKE spits his mouthpiece in disgust at FOX andstruts back to his corner. What a fantastic and symbolic gesture to sum up the tawdry business of the fixed fight.
The use of TIME CUT as a transition brings up another issue that always arises in sports movies: It’s impossible to visualize an entire game, fight, match, etc, so how to handle the inevitable time ellipses? Check out how the screenwriters handle the 3rd fight between LaMotta and Sugar Ray Robinson:
INT. OLYMPIC STADIUM — DETROIT (FEB. 26, 1943)
This is JAKE’s rematch with SUGAR RAY (their 3rd fight). AN
ANNOUNCER’s VOICE gives a blow by blow description.
THE FOURTH ROUND: JAKE is in serious trouble. SUGAR RAY
knocks him with a hard right, then a series of rights and
lefts. JAKE is punched all the way across the ring, but stays
in there.
THE SEVENTH ROUND: JAKE, coming on strong, forces SUGAR RAY
into his own corner, then lands a left hook to his chin.
SUGAR RAY drops, and takes a nine count. This time, however,
the blow does not have a crippling effect on SUGAR RAY;
instead, he comes back and outboxes JAKE.
TIME CUT: THE ANNOUNCER calls out the decision: SUGAR RAY is
the winner. JAKE is stunned. The CROWD boos so loud and for
so long that THE ANNOUNCER is unable to introduce the
fighters in the next bout.
A primary slugline establishes the location and start of the scene, then underneath that — THE FOURTH ROUND, THE SEVENTH ROUND, TIME CUT. These are not secondary slugs, but rather literally what could be called ‘time frames,’ indicating a jump in time within the context of the scene and its primary location. The way I would have typically approached it would be to frame it this way:
SERIES OF SHOTS — THE FIGHT
— THE FOURTH ROUND: [SD]
— THE SEVENTH ROUND: [SD]
— THE DECISION: [SD]
But I think I prefer the approach that Schrader and Martin used.
How about you?
Here is a taste of what director Martin Scorcese did with the script:
[Originally posted January 14, 2010]