I remember when I started writing about cinema. One of those first articles was about my action movie heroes. SLY (2023), the documentary that covers Sylvester Stallone’s film career, made me return to that moment and the motivation that generated that crude writing. Those celluloid heroes that Hollywood spawned were my favorite refuge for years and there I always ran into that Stallone. It is impossible to imagine the history of cinema without Rocky, without Rambo, without Cobra, without Tango, without John Spartan…

Thom Zimy’s documentary is told in first person and with the reflections of a Stallone contemplating the sunset we travel to the past to see the origin of the legend. There are few figures who have risen so high and have managed to stay for so long. Just like his Rocky Balboa character, Stallone has had to endure hard blows and resounding falls in movies and in life but he has gotten up to keep fighting. Cinema gave him everything and over time it became a vehicle with which he channeled frustrations and at times it was also a bubble that isolated him from his reality.

Where legends are made

SLY’s narrative rhythm is achieved with a combination of anecdotal narration and images of the home being dismantled. The stormy relationship with his father appears frequently and becomes a pivot point in the story that leads us to understand many of Stallone’s motivations and decisions. Seeing the human side of that figure who on the screen seems larger than life itself does not diminish it but rather magnifies the myth even more. Each element that is removed from that house hides a story, in the film of his own life, Sly seems to seek a new horizon while taking stock of his successes and failures.

SLY may rely on nostalgia but this is a resource that is justified in form and substance and in how it is used in the service of the story. Stallone as our narrator is as magnetic as he has ever been in his iconic performances. Annie Salsich’s editing is another fundamental element for this documentary to maintain an agile pace. Perhaps where director Thom Zimy and Salsich combine best is in the composition of the subtext that is created with the statue of Rocky that serves as the guiding thread of the story. Visually, one of the best sequences focuses precisely on this sculpture and the moment in which it is dismantled from its pedestal.

SLY is a very well-structured documentary that examines one of the most important figures in the history of cinema, one of the last superstars and gives us exclusive access behind the scenes to let us see the lights and shadows of the man before the legend and the man who sometimes he tries to separate himself from the legend.