Allan Malamud

What does a biographer do when the truth about his subject is far less pleasant than the legend? That is the moral dilemma at the heart of Cobb, which explores the lives of both baseball's premier hitter, Ty Cobb (Tommy Lee Jones), and the sportswriter assigned to set his story down, Al Stump (Robert Wuhl). Stump arrives at the Tahoe home of the dying Cobb to write the official life story of the first man inducted into the Baseball Hall Of Fame. He finds a drunken, misanthropic, bitter racist who abuses his biographer as well as everyone else. Stump must either candycoat his subject's life or present an accurate picture of a disgusting man who happened to become an American sports hero. The movie's biting focus on Cobb, ferociously performed by Jones, is not matched by its weaker representation of Stump, an imbalance which ultimately weakens the film's overall effect. ~ Don Kaye, All Movie Guide

Ron Shelton (Bull Durham) wrote and directed the basketball-oriented seriocomedy White Men Can't Jump. Woody Harrelson plays Billy Hoyle, a white con artist who hustles basketball games with black players, lulling his victims into the misguided notion that white men can't match up with black hoopsters. One of his victims, African-American Sidney Deane (Wesley Snipes), becomes Hoyle's "agent," arranging his various inner city scams. Deane doesn't feel as though he's selling out his own people; he goes along with Hoyle to provide a better life for his wife, Rhonda (Tyra Ferrell), and son. The film breezes through several zany sequences, including one liberal-baiting satirical moment set at a black/white "solidarity" basketball game arranged by an ambitious politician. Crooked gamblers intrude upon the last scenes of the film, but Hoyle is rescued by his girlfriend, Gloria (Rosie Perez), a Jeopardy freak who realizes a lifelong dream by winning big on the Alex Trebek-hosted game show. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Down and Out in Beverly Hills is an updated remake of the 1932 Jean Renoir film Boudu Saved By Drowning. Philandering businessman Dave Whiteman (Richard Dreyfuss) rescues scraggly tramp Jerry Baskin (Nick Nolte) from drowning himself in Dave's swimming pool. Much against his will, Jerry is invited to enjoy the hospitality of Dave, his social-climbing wife Barbara Bette Midler, and their sexually ambivalent son Max (Evan Richards). The hapless hobo bonds only with the family dog Matisse, which fascinates Barbara to the point that she's willing to share her bed (and a few other things) with him. Dave is twice cuckolded when Jerry makes out with the maid (Elizabeth Pena), with whom he has been carrying on a torrid--and noisy--affair. He plans to wreak revenge on the tramp, but several plot twists result in Dave and Jerry becoming bosom companions. Little Richard appears as the family's easily irritated next door neighbor. Down and Out in Beverly Hills was the R-rated film which compelled the Disney Company to create its adult-oriented Touchstone Films division. The property was later cleaned up for TV consumption and converted into a short-lived Fox Network sitcom. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Martin Scorsese's brutal character study incisively portrays the true rise and fall and redemption of middleweight boxer Jake La Motta, a violent man in and out of the ring who thrives on his ability (and desire) to take a beating. Opening with the spectacle of the over-the-hill La Motta (Robert De Niro) practicing his 1960s night-club act, the film flashes back to 1940s New York, when Jake's career is on the rise. Despite pressure from the local mobsters, Jake trusts his brother Joey (Joe Pesci) to help him make it to a title bout against Sugar Ray Robinson the honest way; the Mob, however, will not cave in. Jake gets the title bout, and blonde teenage second wife Vickie (Cathy Moriarity), but success does nothing to exorcise his demons, even as he channels his rage into boxing. Alienating Vickie and Joey, and disastrously gaining weight, Jake has destroyed his personal and professional lives by the 1950s. After he hits bottom, however, Jake emerges with a gleam of self-awareness, as he sits rehearsing Marlon Brando's On the Waterfront speech in his dressing room mirror: "I coulda been a contender, I coulda been somebody." Working with a script adapted by Mardik Martin and Paul Schrader from La Motta's memoirs, Scorsese and De Niro sought to make an uncompromising portrait of an unlikable man and his ruthless profession. Eschewing uplifting Rocky-like boxing movie conventions, their Jake is relentlessly cruel and self-destructive; the only peace he can make is with himself. Michael Chapman's stark black-and-white photography creates a documentary/tabloid realism; the production famously shut down so that De Niro could gain 50-plus pounds. Raging Bull opened in late 1980 to raves for its artistry and revulsion for its protagonist; despite eight Oscar nominations, it underperformed at the box office, as audiences increasingly turned away from "difficult" films in the late '70s and early '80s. The Academy concurred, passing over Scorsese's work for Best Director and Picture in favor of Robert Redford and Ordinary People, although De Niro won a much-deserved Oscar, as did the film's editor, Thelma Schoonmaker. Oscar or no Oscar, Raging Bull has often been cited as the best American film of the 1980s. ~ Lucia Bozzola, All Movie Guide