Rocky Balboa: Critic Reviews

It turns out that the added years only benefit the character, making him seem touchingly new because he's so old.

Surprisingly, Rocky Balboa is no embarrassment. Like its forerunners it goes the distance almost in spite of itself.

The unfortunate effect is that of an invisible angel of death hooking Rocky's mouth with a fishing line and implacably reeling him in.

Rocky still has some life left in him, and so does the franchise. As Rocky himself might have said, who wouldda thunk?

There were titters, yes. But to this viewer, sentimentality won by a knockout.

Rocky Balboa isn't a response to Stallone's late-life crisis, it is his late-life crisis, right up there on the screen.

Rocky Balboa, effortlessly reflexive and patently, even proudly, absurd, is a tough movie to dislike -- and believe me, I've tried.

Touchingly nostalgic, the sixth chapter in the saga of Sylvester Stallone's eternal underdog packs a far more powerful punch than anyone would have expected.

I gotta admit that I had a pretty good time watching this 94th film in a series that started 30 years ago.

Does Rocky Balboa deliver? Weirdly enough, it does: I was jumping out of my seat during Rocky's bout.

It's actually the best Rocky movie since the original -- a fitting and triumphant final chapter for one of the most iconic characters in the history of motion pictures.

The new old Rocky doesn't need a last-minute, come-from behind, rock 'em, sock 'em victory to give us a good time. You know what? I smell a sequel.

As usual with Stallone's Rocky sequels, the schmaltz is unbearable, but the fight is plausibly handled, and Stallone's sincere sadness at growing older makes this an unexpectedly satisfying conclusion to the series.

Rocky Balboa puts the anything-is-possible fairy tale to rest with a lot of heart, and a lot of hooey.

OK, so it's not a great movie. But like its hero, it has a great heart.

Rocky Balboa is almost as hard to resist as it is to believe.

The first four-fifths of the film is a meandering lead-up to the inevitable getting-in-shape montage, run up the steps and a big fight. Up until that point, all Rocky does is talk. And talk. And talk.

The Italian Stallion gallantly fights one last time in Rocky Balboa, an endearing final chapter that has more in common with the 1976 original than any of the sequels.

Though Stallone directs with little visual inspiration outside the ring sequence, he sticks to the original's up-from-the-streets spirit and rejects the slickness that had crept into the franchise.

Mock Stallone all you want. I want to also, but I can't. He understands that the character is much bigger than himself, an American emblem that will long outlive him.

Nothing that happens here is particularly touching, exciting or funny.

Shamelessly nostalgic, strenuously formulaic and utterly bereft of unforeseen developments, Rocky Balboa nevertheless has its modest charms.

Rocky Balboa scores a split decision: A familiar start, some flat-footed middle rounds and a solid, flailing finish.

Even as Sylvester Stallone's long goodbye to the heroic underdog who made him famous descends from pathos into silliness, and from fairy tale into hallucination, you can't help liking the big galoot.

Stallone has said this is it for Rocky -- even if the film is major box office hit, there will be no seventh outing. If that's the case, it's hard to think of a better sendoff.