Arguably the greatest Canadian pugilist of all-time, George Chuvalo, standing six feet tall, weighing in at 240 pounds, and with a reach of seventy-one inches, was also graced with an iron jaw. Part of ninety-three professional bouts, Chuvalo never once fell to the canvas – and when you look at the foes he fought, that is one impressive statistic.
With a record of 72-19-2, he was a five time Canadian champ, and two time World Heavyweight contender (the first against Ernie Terrell in 1965). Perhaps his two greatest fights were against Muhammad Ali (in 1966 and 1972) – though some may point to the 1965 Fight of the Year versus Floyd Patterson. Given only seventeen days to prepare for their first match, people (along with Ali) didn’t give Chuvalo much of a chance. . . yet, 12 rounds in, the man was still standing (for the first time ever in Ali’s career), the pair going the full 15. Yet, after the fight, Ali claimed, “he is the toughest fighter I ever fought” – Chuvalo earning the man’s respect. And, there is no doubt in Chuvalo’s mind about the fight, for he has long said, “when it was all over, Ali was the guy who went to the hospital because he was pissing blood. . . Me? I went dancing with my wife”.
Becoming one of the number one contenders in the golden age of boxing, he would do battle with Joe Frazier, George Foreman, and a slew of other talented opponents – putting a bookend to his twenty-two year career with a win in 1978 against fellow Canadian George Jerome – a TKO that allowed him to retire with the Canadian Heavyweight title.
Also, film fanatics and boxing enthusiasts should keep an eye open for Chuvalo in the movies, as he has seventeen screen credits, most notably a cameo in David Cronenberg’s The Fly – an arm wrestling scene in which Jeff Goldblum’s fly powers win out over the hulking boxer. . . and most recently in 2015’s Sicilian Vampire, which was written, directed and stars Frank D’Angelo (a name many Canadians will likely know).
A wonderful man, I was fortunate enough to interview the legend. . . and, like any true boxer, his favourite film choice focussed on the bright lights of the ring. Immediately selecting The Harder They Fall, this 1956 film noir stars Humphrey Bogart – an immediate win according to Chuvalo (though he also highlighted the entire cast – including the real life boxers in it). Also speaking of its reality, it deals with the exploitative nature of the sport, and perhaps its story of corruption spoke to the athlete (for after management fees and taxes, Chuvalo only received $12,500 of his $49,000 purse in that original Ali fight). . . you will undoubtedly see the connection later. I also just wanted to pass along that his second favourite picture is Requiem for a Heavyweight starring Anthony Quinn, Mickey Rooney and Jackie Gleason.
Before we get going, The Harder They Fall’s title has a sort of sad double meaning, for not only does it speak to the film and its sordid tale, but also to star Humphrey Bogart – who, after long years of smoking and drinking, ended up with esophageal cancer. . . he would die less than a year later at the age of fifty-seven. And sadly, you can see the pain in his performance – including his watery eyes (which co-star Rod Steiger eventually realized was from the pain).
Directed by Mark Robson, Bogart plays Eddie Willis, a mid-level sports writer who is down on his luck. . . the paper he worked at has folded, and he is broke and without a job. Nick Benko (Steiger), a shady if astute boxing promoter, has long coveted having Willis in his corner, and, knows that this is the perfect time to win over this well respected sports scribe.
Looking for him to spin a story on unknown Toro Moreno (real life professional wrestler Mike Lane), the Argentinian is fresh off the boat (a more cynical look at the American dream story). A behemoth (standing 6’8″ and weighing a solid 275 pounds), he has little skill. . . and, somewhat surprisingly, would be knocked over by a brisk breeze.
No worry for Benko – he is the type of guy who knows how to make things work in his favour, Willis caves (taking him away from his caring wife Beth – Jan Sterling), pushing forward with an all out blitz that has the so-called boxer heading to California with a larger than life bus (featuring two gargantuan cut outs of the man). . . and making headlines as the ‘next great’ in all of the newspapers – without anyone ever really seeing the guy even spar. And, after manager and bookkeeper Leo (Nehemiah Persoff) flubs the first fight, Belko offers Willis the job – a partner making ten percent of the whole operation (he quickly accepts).
Trying to walk the tightrope, the heart of the story finds Willis trying to hold onto his moral code whilst completely immersed in a world of cheating and debauchery. The fights are fixed, the books are phony (yet look clean), the company is corrupt, and the women aren’t there for the right reasons, yet Willis, despite being duplicitous in this whole ruse, clings to some form of his former self.
Yet, his wife does not see it that way – hardly recognizing her honest husband (pushing him even further into the lonely abyss). In reality, the only person to truly trust and love him is Moreno, a supremely innocent man who knows nothing of the fights being fixed (wholly believing that his hands should be registered weapons), nor anything else in regards to this shady underworld that he is living in, in plain sight.
Riding illegal bribes all the way to a bout with the former champ Gus Dundee (Pat Comiskey), things take an unexpected and even darker turn. . . though the fight does lead to a chance at the World Championship title held by Buddy Brannen (Max Baer) – a master at playing to the crowd, and a grandmaster in the sport. With no chance of bribing this man, what will come of the sadly mismatched Moreno? Will Willis be able to live with the soul shrinking decisions he has made? And, is there any way out for either of the two?
With so many real life connections (you will read about another one later), Baer was, in reality, a top boxer (Heavyweight Champ from 1934-35). Loosely based on the life of boxer Primo Carnera (his name changed to Toro Moreno), the second to last fight (which I have only hinted at), is in actuality, real, while the final bout is actually, surprisingly, more understated than what really happened – feel free to look it up if you wish, I do not want to ruin the ending for you. Carnera filed a 1.5 million dollar lawsuit, claiming the story was damaging to his career – the case was dismissed by the judge.
One of the most honest, frank films that shows the darker side of boxing, it is not only the corruption that I am talking about, but rather the abuse of managers (at one point, after Willis hears a number of managers disparaging comments about their fighters, he asks, “if fighters are mud, what are managers made of?”. . . and the way boxers are discarded when their careers are over. Of course, the most obvious example will be Moreno – treated like a slave, he is expected to fight, and, whenever the money discussion comes up, they string him along. Coming from nothing, their promises sound like gold, but sadly, in this case, it is more like fool’s gold. Yet, perhaps even more powerful are two other examples, one of which is the former champ Dundee – at the end of his rope, his career is at a close, but even sadder is his state of mind. Clearly dealing with headaches, he is confused and has some memory loss – it is foreboding personified. The other is a former boxer (played by Joe Greb) that is interviewed on the street. Homeless and without skills, he has been thrown to the curb, without money, a job, or a future life to speak of. We wish these stories were only Hollywood yarns, yet they have been all too true throughout the years – case in point, Greb himself, as he was a real life boxer who fought 119 times, suffering irreparable brain damage (he then became a voice for fighter safety).
Featuring a typically stellar, understated performance from legendary Humphrey Bogart, The Harder They Fall is a more than solid film that offers a fitting farewell to the actor. With a cynical noir narrative (that, despite its darkness, offers hope through the struggling Willis character), an equally brooding score from Hugo Friedhofer, sports fused noir cinematography from Burnett Guffey (nominated for an Academy Award), and so much more. Also keep an eye open for Jack Albertson as Pop (who, fifteen years later, would take on the beloved role of Grandpa Joe in Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory). So, check out this knockout of a picture and figure out if what they say is true, the bigger they are. . .