Raging Bull

I cried at the opening shot. The greatest exploration of pride in the history of art. It was almost sickening watching this film. It was sickening because you see yourself reflected in Jake. You see yourself reflected in his little envious glances, or in his corrective expressions, hiding linings of pain and pride and jealousy and presumptuousness. When Mascagni’s Intermezzo suddenly blared from the screen, those harsh strings which play as if they collect all of the pain in the world and translate it into poetry, and the words ‘Raging Bull’ hit the screen, LaMotta shadowboxing the world, fighting no one, but fighting nonetheless, I couldn’t help but be entirely overwhelmed. I cried twice more after that as well. This is simply one of the greatest things ever crafted. Every shot, every cut, every movement, every line is cinematic purity, turning images from singular forms into a collective tapestry of majestic, bloodied beauty. I write this review in tears. I am genuinely amazed at how human hands were able to produce something of such heavenly beauty. This is the best edited film of all time. This is the best acted film of all time. I don’t know whether this or Stalker has the best sound design of all time, but it’s certainly one of them. This film has the best scene of all time as well. I remember now, why I love Raging Bull so. Thank God for Martin Scorsese.