It feels appropriate that Imprint should be adding Martin Scorsese's 'New York, New York' and 'Raging Bull' to their catalogue within the same month. Released in succession in 1977 and 1980, the two films represent a turning point in the legendary director's career, the moment of maturation when he transitioned from an emerging powerhouse still finding his feet in his aesthetic to one of the greatest living filmmakers. In one corner is a flawed, messy failure, while in the other is an assured, radical, borderline-miraculous monolith of a film, where the foundation stones of his style and thematic concerns cement into place.
The two films share much in common, and it is now how 'Raging Bull' more successfully lands those commonalities that we see Scorsese reach a new level of confidence and daring. Both feature self-sabotaging protagonists, both a build on a bedrock of brutal emotional and physical violence, and both experiment with the collision of gritty realism with operatic artificiality. The latter might not be so obvious with 'Raging Bull', but that is because so much of the aesthetic unreality Scorsese employs emerges from the story and characters rather than imposed on them, as is the case with 'New York, New York'. In fact, on first viewing, they're almost impossible to notice, so overwhelming is the emotional experience of watching famed boxer Jake La Motta (Robert De Niro, 'Killers of the Flower Moon', 'Taxi Driver') navigate his way through over a decade of unrelenting self-immolation.
Boxing is an inherently cinematic sport, but the best boxing films understand that the ring acts as a metaphor for the life that exists out of it. 'Raging Bull' takes this metaphor to poetic heights, mostly because it isn't that interested in the boxing itself. At its heart, 'Raging Bull' is a love story between two brothers, Jake and his brother Joey (Joe Pesci, 'Goodfellas'), who acts as his emotional support and greatest cheerleader. We see Jake's struggle to achieve fame through the 1940s, his rise to middleweight boxing champion in the 50s and his collapse through the 60s, charted primarily through his relationship with Joey and with his embattled wife Vickie (Cathy Moriarty, 'Casper'). Jake is a complicated, borderline reprehensible man, prone to bouts of unrestrained violence and borderline-psychotic sexual jealousy. So little about him makes sense, and that lack of clarity follows him into the ring, where his tactics straddle the dangerous line between success and failure. It's as if we're constantly watching Jake spar on the edge of the abyss, trying to decide whether to smash the world to pieces or stand there and let it smash him.
Much has been written about the film's many artistic triumphs, but what struck me on revisiting it for this review, especially in close proximity to 'New York, New York', is its startling clarity. Each of Scorsese's directorial choices is made with a total understanding of their function and effect, so that despite the complexity of its aesthetic language, every piece feels so perfectly in place. Take, for example, the montage where we move through time via a succession of Jake's fights, also charting his marriage to Vickie and the birth of his children. The passage of time is marked by each match, presented through a title card of date and opponent. However, what we're given is an abstract burst of movement from the fights before a lengthier snippet of home video footage. Though the fights are the markers here, the emphasis is on Jake's personal life, thematically linking these two arenas as one and the same. Images of Vickie and the children come after a burst of sweat, muscle and blood, creating a sense of an undercurrent of violence beneath the domesticity that will erupt later and with more visceral fury than any of the matches.
Where the Scorsese in 'New York, New York' never seemed to know how to put all the many unwieldy pieces together, here he does so with astounding confidence, and part of the horror of 'Raging Bull' is how perfectly it is constructed as a tragedy in the literal sense, the way that the ancient Greeks saw tragedy as an inevitable march towards catastrophe. We know that the action in the ring reveals the real Jake La Motta, but he isn't some underdog we can cheer for, no 'Rocky Balboa' or 'Adonis Creed' or Terry Malloy. Boxing films rely on the underdog for their success, to undercut the extreme violence and make us feel okay with watching men beat themselves to a pulp. Jake is not an underdog but a classic Scorsese/De Niro antihero. He waits for his opponent to weaken so he can annihilate them, or stands and lets them annihilate him, his unusually thick skull making the decimation prolonged and vicious. This is why we barely notice the animal noises woven through Frank Warner's magnificent sound design - we're in the animal kingdom, where prey and predator are an exchange of tactics and manipulations. And yet, none of the fights are as horrifying as the bursts of violence within the domestic rings, where we see the same flash in Jake's eye, the flash of unpredictable danger, and those animal sounds rise again, now all the more incongruous and all the more upsetting.
The sound design is a great example of how much more successfully 'Raging Bull' employs the Scorsese tactic of combining gritty realism with artificiality or self-conscious aesthetic, much more so than in 'New York, New York' and in a manner that will follow through the many, many great films over the decades to come. It's a funny irony that, in trying to resurrect a specifically cinematic aesthetic with 'New York, New York', that of the MGM musical, he somehow made a film lacking in cinematic spectacle, but in this intimate black and white sports drama, everything feels enormous, epic, shockingly cinematic. Scorsese's genius is in juxtaposition, taking two elements and placing them side-be-side in a manner no one would have thought of and creating an effect no one has ever seen before. That's what makes 'Raging Bull' such an impressive and complete achievement, even more so (arguably) than 'Taxi Driver' - the sense that Scorsese isn't recycling or relitigating how others make films, but finally deciding how he makes films. One could further argue for 'Raging Bull', even with his brilliant early work, being the first truely Scorsese film.
On this subject, it is worth pointing out the other significant turning point that 'Raging Bull' represents, that of being his first collaboration with legendary editor Thelma Schoonmaker, who has edited every one of Scorsese's films since. If anyone is responsible for helping define his inimitable style, it's Schoonamker, her incredible understanding of tempo and her outrageous rhythmic daring in complete symbiosis with his staccato, propulsive energy. Her editing of 'Raging Bull' constantly situates us in the uncomfortable, knowing exactly how long she can push us, whether it's the sight of a face falling apart under the hit of a glove or the agonising wait for a moment of domestic violence to take place. Of course it helps that she has such extraordinary images to work with in Michael Chapman's cinematography, but so much of the success of 'Raging Bull' is in how she constructs the succession of these images. You can feel both her and Scorsese finding their steps together, establishing as vital a collaborative relationship in U.S. cinema as that of Steven Spielberg and John Williams. You can't imagine a Martin Scorsese film without Thelma Schoonmaker, to the point where I couldn't stop wondering how much better a film 'New York, New York' would have been in her hands.
There are two other aspects in which we see, in the transition from 'New York, New York' to 'Raging Bull', Scorsese find confidence. The first is in his handling of De Niro, like Jimmy Doyle, Jake is a combustable, uncontrollable force, and once again, De Niro inhabits that combustibility with total commitment. However, unlike with Jimmy Doyle, Scorsese here knows how to channel, control and elevate that energy. There's the same sense of improvised unpredictability in De Niro, but the parameters are clearer and the canvas is more contained, allowing him to find a point of focus for his energies. The result is, again arguably, his greatest performance, equal parts heartbreaking, repulsive, devastating, pathetic, pitiable and reprehensible. You can't ever like Jake, but you also can't completely hate Jake, because no amount of hate you direct at him will ever match the hate he feels for himself. The level to which De Niro digs into that self-loathing is, at times, almost impossible to watch, but again, Scorsese has learned a lesson here. In 'New York, New York', the argument in the car between Jimmy and Francine is borderline unwatchable in its intensity, as well see him aiming all he has to destroy her. A companion scene in 'Raging Bull' in terms of intensity would be where we see Jake in the 60s in a police cel, bashing his fists into a concrete wall, screaming "Why, why, why!" In the former scene, we see everything. By the end of the latter scene, Jake roaring, "I'm not an animal", he's barely seen. Only his shoulder is visible. And yet, in seeing less, the latter scene is all the more powerful because of the opportunity Scorsese gives us to access the character and the drama. He understands how best to communicate that brutality and to give us space within it, whereas in the former scene, there's no space for us there.
The last comment I will make about Scorsese's level of impressive control in 'Raging Bull' is in how he places himself within the film. So much of his greatest work feels autobiographical, often more thematically than literally, and this was an element that hobbled 'New York, New York'. He couldn't see past what this film said about him, what he was having to unpack about himself. Placing yourself within the work you make is tricky - on the one hand, it's that personal quality and that specificity that often allows an audience to find themselves in the work, but on the other, too much can make the work all about the artist and, as a consequence, inaccessible. I found that very much the case with 'New York, New York,' it was telling me things about the filmmaker, but with 'Raging Bull', a film about the frustration of unachieved ambition and unseen potential and crippling self-doubt, I learnt something about the filmmaker, I felt something about them. There's a soulful sorrow to the self-reflection, the specificity of Jake's story marrying to the specificity of Scorsese's experience and, by consequence, giving space for the audience to understand, sympathie and recoil from what they are seeing. Perhaps this is the lesson Scorsese learns, all the more remarkable in a film about boxing - that you need to make the audience your collaborators, not your opponents.
There's a soulful sorrow to the self-reflection, the specificity of Jake's story marrying to the specificity of Scorsese's experience and, by consequence, giving space for the audience to understand, sympathise and recoil from what they are seeing.
The first time I saw 'Raging Bull', I didn't know how to feel about it. It left me exhausted, battered, almost as if I needed a shower to watch it off. Calling a boxing film "visceral" feels like a cliché at this point, but that word applies to 'Raging Bull' in a different sense. You can almost feel it on your skin, its stink in the air. On second viewing for this review, both with the shock subsided and a better understanding of its place within Scorsese's career, I was even more in awe of it. You can see a calcifying of what came before it and the ground laid for what comes after. As with all great films, it is such an object of its time and one that exists out of time, an object of pure cinema and raw human experience that feels immediate and modern, and primal and ancient all at once.
PICTURE & SOUND
For the film's premiere release on 4K UHD in Australia, Imprint credits the 2160p 1.85:1 transfer as being from the "2022 4K master approved by director Martin Scorsese". Though I don't have the 2022 U.S. Criterion release to compare it to, I think it's safe to assume that this transfer is sourced from the same restoration, and comparing the image with screenshots on Blu-ray.com, this seems to be the case. In motion, it's a really beautiful transfer, the image populated by a healthy layer of grain that complements the period setting but balanced with a tremendous, at times startling level of clarity. The quality of the restoration, combined with Chapman's cinematography, really emphasises the timeless quality of the film, the sense that it is both period and contemporary, a product of the early 80s and shockingly modern. Black and white films really shine on 4K thanks to the nuances in the extra detail and the High Dynamic Range within the shades, and this 4K UHD release of 'Raging Bull' is amongst the best a black and white film has looked in the format. The transfer is listen as Dolby Vision compatible.
The set also includes a Blu-ray disc of the film with a 1080p 1.85:1 transfer, also listed as sourced from the same restoration. From what I can tell, this certainly seems to be the case, the transfer exhibiting the same clarity and detail, albeit without the balance and depth afforded to the 4K disc.
In terms of sound, each disc offers the same DTS-HD 5.1 Surround and LPCM 2.0 Stereo tracks, which differs from both the Criterion release, which only features a DTS-HD MA 2.0 track. It's possible these are more in line with the original Blu-ray release. Both are crisp and clear, though I found the LPCM track a little more robust and in keeping with the visuals of the film (punchy and direct). This is the default track on both discs. As noted above, the sound design is a vital aspect of 'Raging Bull', and while we might not have here the same option as the Criterion, it's clear with the balance of dialogue and effects in these tracks that care has been taken to preserve the fidelity of the sound design.
SPECIAL FEATURES
Unlike the 'New York, New York' release, this release of 'Raging Bull' doesn't offer any new on-disc extras or collect all the previously-released material, though it's still an impressive set. From what I can see, it (mostly) aligns with the 2011 30th Anniversary Blu-ray release.
On both the 4K and Blu-ray discs of the film, the following legacy extras are included...
- Audio Commentary by director Martin Scorsese and editor Thelma Schoonmaker
- Audio Commentary by director of photography Michael Chapman, producers Irwin Winkler and Robert Chartoff, music producer Robbie Robertson, actors John Turturro and Theresa Saldana, casting director Cis Corman, and supervising sound effects editor Frank Warner
- Audio Commentary by writers Mardik Martin and Paul Schrader, boxer-author Jake LaMotta, and LaMotta's nephew Jason Lustig
- Theatrical Trailer (2:09)
A third disc (in a separate case) includes:
- 'Raging Bull: Fight Night' 4-part documentary (1:22:32 in total)
- 'The Bronx Bull: An Introduction to Raging Bull' (27:54)
- 'De Niro vs. LaMotta: Shot for Shot' (3:47)
- 'LaMotta Defends Title' Newsreel Footage (1:00)
- 'Marty and Bobby' (13:35)
- 'Raging Bull: Reflections on a Classic' (12:15)
- 'Remembering Jake' (11:04)
- 'Marty on Film' (10:30)
- 'Jake's Jokes' (6:07)
- 'Trailers From Hell: Dan Perri on Raging Bull' (2:44)
A majority of these legacy extras constitute short featurettes, but apart from the exhaustive commentaries, the best extras are those that go into greater depth. The 'Fight Night' documentary features an enormous amount of information, with all the key players interviewed and given a chance to discuss their craft in detail. This is then complemented nicely by 'The Bronx Bull', where the film is discussed by Schoonmaker, La Motta and a series of British critics. 'Marty on Film' is also terrific, as is any opportunity to hear Scorsese discuss film history. 'Marty and Bobby' also sees the actor and director discussing how they came to collaborate on the film with a touch more detail than offered in the other features.
Only two extras don't originate from the 2011 Blu-ray. The first, 'Jake's Jokes', appears to be outtakes from the interview with La Motta in the 'Bronx Bull' featurette, with La Motta telling some of the jokes from his stand-up material. The second, 'Trailers From Hell: Dan Perri on Raging Bull', is an interview with Dan Perri, who designed the titles for the film. It was released on YouTube in 2018.
Of the material missing, the most obvious are the features created exclusively for the Criterion release, but also missing from the 2011 release is the 1981 interview with Cathy Moriarty on The Tonight Show.
As with 'New York, New York', 'Raging Bull' comes in a handsomely designed hard box, with the two plastic cases and an 80-page hardback book. As well as the original production notes and plenty of production photography, the book includes a tremendous essay on the film from critic Bilge Ebiri, which further contextualises the film in Scorsese's career.
While it's a pity we can't call this a definitive release of 'Raging Bull' with the lack of extras, the new restoration in native 4K now being available in Australia makes this a terrific addition to the Imprint line.

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