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"Stone Cold Dead in the Market" by Louis Jordon
THE TITLES appear on black. They are intercut with
CLOSE-UPS of a fighter's body.
Credit over black.
Credit over black.
Fists swing and punch at the air.
Credit over black.
WE CATCH A GLIMPSE of young JAKE LAMOTTA.
INT. BARBIZON PLAZA THEATRE - DRESSING ROOM - NIGHT
JAKE LAMOTTA, wearing a tux, is shadow-boxing.
We are unsure of where he is -- he moves in and out
of the shadows. At 42, he's overweight and out of
shape, but the balls of his feet still pop up and
down like they were on canvas and his tiny fists
still jerk forward with short bursts of light. He
is rehearsing a nightclub monologue.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.
It's a thrill to be standing here
talking to you wonderful people. In
fact, it's a thrill to be standing!
I haven't seen so many people since
my last fight at Madison Square
Garden. After that fight, a
reporter asked me, 'Jake, where do
you go from here?' I said, 'To a
hospital!' I fought one hundred and
six professional fights and still
none of them bums figured out how
to fight me -- they kept hitting me
in the head! And that's why I'm
(starts to sing)
'When the fighter's not engaged in
his employment, his employment,
although he was Champ and quite the
rage, he must go somewhere else to
seek employment, seek employment.
But a fighter's life is not a bowl
of cherries, still I'd rather have
an egg than a fist upon my face...
INT. CLEVELAND ARENA - NIGHT (1941)
Bam! JIMMY REEVES, a fast, black middleweight, jabs
LAMOTTA, 19 years old, in the face. JAKE staggers
forward. No matter how hard LAMOTTA is hit, no
matter how often, he always staggers forward --
like a bull. The bell sounds.
Battered, JAKE slumps on the stool in his corner.
It's September, 1941. Europe and Asia are already
at war. Young SOLDIERS, freshly recruited, dot the
hostile audience -- each screaming at the FIGHTERS
in the ring.
Suddenly, words are exchanged, a GIRL screams, and
a SOLDIER and a CIVILIAN stand and start swinging.
AND IN THE RING:
JAKE LAMOTTA takes a swig of water
and spits blood into the bucket his younger
brother, JOEY, holds for him. TONY, his trainer,
works the cuts.
You didn't have to come to
Cleveland to get beat by a "moulan
He's got you, Jake! You're
outpointed! You're coming up for
the tenth. You gotta knock him out!
The bell sounds for the tenth. JAKE pulls himself
up and charges at REEVES.
REEVES slides away, jabbing, punching, piling up
In JAKE's corner, JOEY stands and yells at JAKE:
A grand apiece! We got a grand
apiece on this, Jake! A f***ing
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.
The REFEREE counts:
One, two, three, four...
The GAMBLERS call out new odds; ten to one for
REEVES, the underdog. JOEY, excited, sees that time
is running out and steps in front of the bell. He
swings his arms, pretending not to realize he
literally holds back the TIMER's arm for a few
seconds. This gives JAKE more time for a knockout --
but not enough. JOEY is pushed back and the bell
rings at the count of nine, ending the match.
Boos and cheers. The BETTORS scramble back to the
BOOKIE to get their money.
JAKE dances around the ring, kissing his gloves and
thrusting them toward the CROWD. JOEY rushes out
and hugs him.Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes
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"Raging Bull" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 22 Mar. 2023. <https://www.scripts.com/script/raging_bull_932>.
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