Raging Bull Page #14

AN ANNOUNCER holds up JAKE's victorious hand. He

seems as surprised as everyone else.

TONY throws JAKE'S robe around his shoulders as THE

ANNOUNCER calls out:

ANNOUNCER:

The middleweight champion, and

still champion by a knockout in

fifteen rounds, the Bronx Bull, the

Raging Bull, Jake LaMotta!

The CROWD cheers. JAKE raises his arms in victory.

INT. JAKE'S DRESSING ROOM - OLYMPIA STADIUM - NIGHT

It is after the fight. TONY, VICKIE, and OTHERS are

in the room. Some PEOPLE are leaving.

Congratulations are heard.

TONY puts away JAKE's fight gear.

JAKE, half-dressed, looks troubled.

JAKE:

(to Vickie)

I miss Joey. I wish Joey was here.

VICKIE:

Why don't you just call him?

JAKE:

I dunno.

VICKIE:

Tell him how you feel -- you miss

him. Tell him you're sorry.

JAKE:

(pauze)

Ok, all right. Telephone's in the

hall. Dial his number.

VICKIE goes to the pay phone in the hall, and dials

long distance.

JAKE is nervous, but follows VICKIE.

THE HALLWAY:

As the number starts to ring,

VICKIE hands the phone to JAKE.

JOEY (O.S.)

Hello... hello...

JAKE can't answer.

JOEY (O.S.) (CONT'D)

What's this, a joke? Hello... Hey!

JAKE can't answer.

JOEY (O.S.) (CONT'D)

Well, if there's somebody

listenin', their mother's a f***in'

whore who takes it in the ass.

There is a click as JOEY hangs up.

JAKE stands there, and finally hangs up the phone.

INT. "JAKE LAMOTTA'S" - NIGHT (1956)

JAKE gulps down the last of his Scotch.

JAKE:

(continuing his monologue)

I shoulda never hit my brother.

Afterwards I was sorry. Now every

time I need somethin' I gotta go

shoppin' for it! A psychiatrist

once told me, "When you hit your

brother you're really hittin' your

mother but you can't admit it to

yourself." He's really crazy. I

woulda never hit my mother. I mean,

only in self-defense! A lot of

people wanta know who was the best

guy I ever fought. Let's see...

there was that one I fought

twice... the other Frenchman... you

know who I mean...

(having trouble

pronouncing the name)

... Dauthuille! He was tough, but I

beat him... I had to! I mean, how

would it sound losin' to a guy

whose name you can't even

pronounce? But... Robinson. I can

say that alright. I fought Sugar

Ray so many times it's a wonder I

don't have diabetes! Linda... get

me another drink! Linda's the most

popular waitress here... you can

tell by her tips! She's the kinda

girl I go for. You oughta see the

ones I get.

LINDA brings him another Scotch.

JAKE (CONT'D)

... Thanks, babe. She's a nice kid.

She'll only do it with a guy if she

really likes him. She's got a lot

in common with Will Rogers -- never

met a man she didn't like! ... I

was talkin' about Sugar Ray. Some

of you think I was better than

him...

but you know, it's a toss-up.

Except the last fight... February

14, 1951.

JAKE sips his drink.

JAKE(CONT'D)

Valentine's Day. The anniversary of

the St. Valentine's Massacre.

Robinson didn't use a machine gun

but it was still a massacre...

JAKE takes another drink.

JAKE (CONT'D)

Actually, I was doin' okay at

first. In fact, by the end of the

fifth round I really had him

worried -- he thought he killed me.

INT. JOEY'S PELHAM PARKWAY HOUSE - LIVING ROOM -

NIGHT (FEB. 14, 1951)

LENORE, JOEY's wife, watches the 6th Robinson

LaMotta fight on JOEY's new television console.

JOEY walks by on his way to another room, but stops

to watch.

LENORE is not a fight fan, but is caught up in the

fight, anyway.

LENORE:

Look at that. The sonofabitch is

outboxing Robinson.

JOEY:

I can't believe he's getting that

jab in.

The bell sounds, and a Pabst commercial comes on:

PABST COMMERCIAL

"Friend, the quality that has

carried Pabst Blue Ribbon around

the world is yours for the asking.

Next time that friendly bartender

says, 'What'll you have?' give him

the answer the whole world gives,

Pabst Blue Ribbon!"

INT. CHICAGO STADIUM - NIGHT

TONY is wiping JAKE off in his corner.

JAKE:

He ain't hurting me, but I can't

get him down.

TONY:

Don't talk. Keep at it. Jab, jab,

jab. You're ahead on points.

In the other, SUGAR RAY'S TRAINER pats down

ROBINSON's pompadour as he says:

S.R.'S TRAINER

He's going, Sugar. He's old. He

ain't Jake LaMotta no more. Make

your move, Sugar. Kill him!

ROBINSON nods.

The bell sounds and the FIGHTERS step onto the

canvas. They look at each other before the boxing

starts -- they both know the inevitable outcome.

ROBINSON smiles.

INT. JOEY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

ROBINSON makes his move. His arms are a blur,

swinging rapidly but accurately.

JOEY and LENORE are suddenly silent.

TV ANNOUNCER:

LaMotta's on queer street, but he's

still standing. Robinson throws a

right, a left, a right, a right and

a right again! How can LaMotta stay

on his feet?

On the TV, WE SEE that ROBINSON has JAKE up against

the ropes. He's giving JAKE a pier six beating.

It's the Fox fight for real.

JAKE's face is so soaked in blood that it's

impossible to pinpoint the cuts.

TV ANNOUNCER (CONT'D)

No man can take this kind of

punishment. LaMotta is just a rag

doll now. God knows what's holding

him up. This is an historic

beating. Sugar Rav staggers LaMotta

with a left and comes across with a

blackjack punch to the champion's

head.

The referee is stepping in,

Robinson has LaMotta on the ropes.

That's it! Sugar Ray Robinson,

former welterweight champion, has

taken the middleweight crown from

Jake LaMota.

As the REFEREE stops the fight, JOEY sighs with

relief.

INT. CHICAGO STADIUM - NIGHT

LAMOTTA, a bloody and beaten fighter, walks over to

the victorious ROBINSON and puts his arm on his

shoulder.

JAKE:

You never knocked me down. You

could never knock me down.

ROBINSON, receiving congratulations from every

direction, takes time to turn to JAKE and say:

ROBINSON:

So what?

EXT. JAKE'S MIAMI HOUSE - DAY (JUNE 2, 1954)

ESTABLISHING SHOT. The house is quite large, and

has beautiful landscaping and a swimming pool.

INT. JAKE'S MIAMI HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

JAKE, wearing sportclothes that can't hide his

paunch, and VICKIE, wearing a dress and looking her

best, sit in the living room with their THREE

CHILDREN (the TWO BOYS, and also a GIRL, about two

years old).

A still PHOTOGRAPHER clicks pictures of JAKE and

VICKIE as TWO REPORTERS talk with JAKE.

JAKE:

I'm pulling out of next Wednesday's

TV bout 'cause I can't make the

weight. I'm fighting at light

heavyweight, and I still can't make

the weight.

REPORTER:

Does that mean...

JAKE:

It means I'm through with boxing.

I'm tired with tryin' to make the

weight anymore. I'm sick of

thinkin' about weight, weight,

weight.

REPORTER:

You sound bitter.

JAKE:

Why should I be bitter? Boxing's

been good to me. I got a nice

house, three kids, a beautiful wife

-- take a picture of her. Vickie.

VICKIE poses dutifully.

JAKE (CONT'D)

Ain't she beautiful? Coulda been

Mrs. America if I didn't pull her

outa the contest. Didn't want her

wearing a swimsuit for nobody but

me.

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