What I Play Rocky does is not something new in cinema. As recently as last year, Richard Linklater imagined the birth of one of the most important films in the history of cinema in his Nouvelle Vague (2025). Brilliantly, we witnessed the dramatization of Jean-Luc Godard and his process of making À bout de souffle (1960). If we dig through the archives, we will find many films that tell the story of how another movie was made, and if we expand our search to documentaries, there are countless more. Director Peter Farrelly’s latest venture takes on one of the most iconic films in the history of the seventh art: Rocky.

More than a film, Rocky (1976) is a cultural phenomenon, one of those works that become larger than life itself. It is the hero’s journey told through the eyes of the ordinary man, the underdog, the one who has everything stacked against him. Rocky is not a sentimental story; it is a human one. A man who cannot beat the system, who does not win, who finds his victory in perseverance in hitting the canvas and getting back up is someone we can relate to, and that is why we connect with him. It is precisely there that I Play Rocky achieves its first victory. This is a film that does not pursue heroism, but rather captures, frame by frame, the journey of a hero of celluloid. The birth of one of the most important films in cinema history is also the birth of a Hollywood legend, and Farrelly’s film captures that in astonishing fashion.

If Stallone himself wanted to play himself in a movie, he could not achieve half of what Anthony Ippolito accomplishes here. The young actor’s screen presence is astonishing. He is not imitating Sylvester Stallone; he embodies him. His body language, his physicality, the tone of his voice every detail pushes us toward the absolute sensation that we are witnessing a reincarnation of the legendary Sly. Ippolito delivers a performance with the power to stand the test of time. P.J. Byrne is Irwin Winkler and Toby Kebbell is Robert Chartoff, the producers who brought Rocky to life. Both actors are also excellent and, at times, serve as the film’s comic relief. The central cast is completed by another trio: AnnaSophia Robb as Sasha, Stallone’s wife; Tracy Letts as the studio executive; and Jay Duplass as director John G. Avildsen. The ensemble works with a perfect balance, enhanced by the precise contributions of the supporting cast.

In I Play Rocky, Hollywood looks at itself without apology. It does not shy away from its flaws; it exposes them, makes fun of them, and engages in a degree of self-criticism. We see the darker side of the business and understand that the game is not fair. But there is always a Rocky, someone who swims against the current and refuses to die trying. Farrelly, whose DNA is rooted in comedy, finds in a lighthearted tone the perfect way to shape a serious biographical drama with an agile pace and plenty of well-handled humor. Peter Gamble’s screenplay is packed with witty lines that land with force while remaining subtle. The film finds the perfect way to deliver short, sharp jokes that move the story forward with remarkable fluidity.

I Play Rocky is a crowd-pleasing film that embraces the formula and transforms the process into a celebration of cinema and of one of the great legends who helped forge that dream machine. It does not question the myth; it applauds it and raises it like a trophy. In doing so, it finds a way to speak to us directly and move us toward a reflection on life, on that constant search that is inherent to the human condition. It clings to perseverance as the only tool against adversity and finds in this narrative device a breath of fresh air with which to build an immensely entertaining film one that knows when to make us laugh, when to move us, and when to surrender to the sheer force of its own story.

And when the ending arrives, Farrelly understands that some stories can only end one way. As V says in V for Vendetta: “The best of endings. The kind of ending that only celluloid can deliver.”