Sly Review: Stallone Documentary Pulls A Few Punches But Deserves A Rematch

The life of Sylvester Stallone has been well documented over the years, as his meteoric rise to stardom thanks to a film about an underdog boxer from Philadelphia shares more than a handful of connective tissue to the lived experience of the man who wrote, produced, and starred in it. When Stallone became synonymous with "Rocky," he brought with him the type of underdog story that Hollywood loves to pretend is the rule and not the exception. But considering Stallone is ​​one of only two actors in history (the other being Harrison Ford) to have starred in a number 1 box-office film in six consecutive decades, his star power cannot be overstated.

Despite his fame, there's still something so inherently relatable about Stallone. He still oozes the same style of blue-collar machismo you'd hear in the break room after a hard shift on an assembly line, but filtered through the philosophical wisdom that can only be forged through the fires of Hollywood's underbelly. The industry counted him out in his younger years, refusing to see him as anything more than side characters with names like "Subway Thug #1," so he took matters into his own hands and proved them wrong. It's not that Stallone has a chip on his shoulder, it's that he's used to being underestimated. It's why after his waning success in the late '90s and '00s, his return to stardom with "The Expendables" cemented his legendary status.

"Sly" is presented as if this is the uncut and unfiltered story of the Italian Stallion, but the documentary (which was also produced by its subject) pulls its punches and is noticeably filtered through the lens of the narrative Stallone wants out in the world. This is the man who had a hand in his own success story, and he's certainly not going to leave his legacy up to chance.

This isn't to say that "Sly" isn't an entertaining watch, and anyone with even a modicum of love for Stallone's work will certainly enjoy their time with the man, but this documentary is as puffy as cauliflower ear. His legal troubles, rocky marital history, and other publicly-known controversies are brushed aside or avoided completely. His most vulnerable moments presented in the film regard his family, where Stallone laments not spending enough time with them and instead focusing on his work. There's also a small bit of time dedicated to his son, Sage, who passed away in 2012. But it's still presented through a bit of Hollywood sheen. Even his displayed "shortcomings" are presented in a flattering light, not unlike someone saying their greatest weakness is that "they're too driven" during a job interview. "Sly" is not an expose or an in-depth biography, it's an example of printing the legend.

At the same time, there's a reason Stallone became and continues to be one of the biggest movie stars in existence. He's hyper-aware of his limitations as a performer and what audiences will accept from him. Moments of him listening to old interviews where a much younger and less secure version of himself talks about "Rocky" and refuses to acknowledge that the film is actually a love story are delightful because he doesn't back away from the reality that he's not the man he used to be. There are candid discussions about his action "rivalry" with Arnold Schwarzenegger, but none about the steroid abuse to perfect his action-figure frame. The genuine underdog narrative "Rocky" borders on tear-jerking, but there's zero acknowledgment of his actual first leading role, the softcore pornography film "The Party at Kitty and Stud's."

And yet I could have watched four more hours of Stallone just talking.

I don't know how much footage director Thom Zimny acquired throughout production, but what I wouldn't give to hear the stuff that didn't make the final cut. There's an effortless to Stallone's conversations, his deep, soothing voice filled with so much honesty no matter what he's talking about. The issue with this doc isn't that Sly is telling half-truths or lying to the audience, it's that he's not given enough time to get into the thick of it. It's extra frustrating considering Netflix gave Sly's action counterpart, Arnold Schwarzenegger, a full three episodes worth for his legacy project.

"Sly" is centered around Stallone's move from Los Angeles back to New York City, packing up his extensive collection of memorabilia from his films and reflecting in the process. It seems as if the man has kept everything, so while there are little glimpses of other moments of his career in the background, the "Creed" films are ignored, "Demolition Man" is a footnote, and there's not even a breath of his streaming drama "Tulsa King." His family doesn't get a lot of screen time either, likely because "The Family Stallone," like his aforementioned series, is on Paramount+.

There are a few talking heads, including some sincerely powerful stuff from Sly's brother Frank, but Zimny wisely lets Sly be the focus. His control of the narrative might mean the film is narrow in its scope, but by the time the credits roll, like a "Rocky" movie, you'll be begging for a sequel.

/Film Rating: 6.5 out of 10