The Rocky franchise is one of the most iconic in film history. Starting out as a rags-to-riches tale about a down-on-his-luck boxer, the series would evolve into the epitome of 1980s excess and indulgence. Despite this larger-than-life imagery, the series at its heart is not really about spectacle or boxing.
Rocky is actually a character drama, one which centers around an incredibly lonely protagonist. Beyond the pomp and circumstance, the series' best moments aren't music montages but heartfelt dramatic scenes that showcase the rise and fall of an unlikely hero.
Far removed from the over-the-top excess that the series would devolve into, John G. Alvidsen's Rocky felt incredibly sad and introspective. Rocky is a simple yet conflicted man of little means, barely scraping by as an enforcer for a local gang. His trainer, Mickey Goldmill, berates him for this, but it's not a simple case of a guy on the wrong path being straightened out by a lovable mentor. Rocky and Adrian are some of the few truly wholesome characters in the first movie, with their mutual awkwardness making their relationship feel more sincere. It's also what adds to Rocky's sadness, as the girl he loves won't even look him in the eye half the time they're together.
Meanwhile, Rocky's friend and Adrian's brother, Paulie, is a slimeball slob who's both lazy and abusive to his sister. He's not close with Rocky so much as a guy that happens to hang out with him. Even then, he more so mooches off of Rocky than anything else, if for nothing than his time and company. Mickey is similar, seeing Rocky as just a way to finally make it big by training a champ. He doesn't show much interest in Rocky before his prospects of fighting Apollo Creed, and Rocky later calls him out for it. Of these few relationships, ironically, the best would seem to be with Tony Gazzo, the loan shark that Rocky works for. He's the only one besides Adrian who shows any real concern for Rocky, which essentially justifies Rocky's working for him.
All of these contradictions give the characters the verisimilitude and depth to go beyond mere caricature, which, when combined with Alvidsen's authentic, realistic direction, turns the movie into an almost fictional documentary. Though the production values would increase with new movies, the themes would not change. For as much success as Rocky Balboa would gain in his later films, the movies themselves would stay with the theme that he was ultimately a man with nothing but his two fists. Even amid the heights he reached in Rocky III and Rocky IV, he would still suffer the loss of his trainer Mickey and his friend/former rival Apollo Creed.
Rocky V was the nadir of the franchise and perhaps Rocky's life, showing how, no matter how hard he fought, he was almost meant to be a down-on-his-luck nobody. Losing his wealth and moving back to the mean streets of Philly, Rocky would train an upstart named Tommy Gunn that eventually turned on him.
To make matters worse, his brief relationship with Tommy nearly destroyed his relationship with his son, Robert (Rocky, Jr.). That relationship wouldn't truly recover until the end of the sixth film, Rocky Balboa, but Rocky would keep losing things along the way. The weirdest and perhaps saddest part of this is that Ivan Drago, Rocky's nemesis in Rocky IV, would later train his son Viktor, having a relationship with his son that Rocky didn't with his own.
Rocky Balboa then opens with his beloved wife Adrian already long dead, with the Italian Stallion unable to move on from the past. Distant from his son, he's once again only joined by Paulie, who resents Rocky's nostalgia due to it reminding him of the sister he had always mistreated. Paulie would also pass away off-screen by the events of Creed, with Rocky and Robert once again less than close.
For all of his accomplishments, fights and triumphs, Rocky always loses what he gains, making it all a collection of vanities and ghosts. Not only does he develop into a wiser, more sullen figure because of this, but those around him also grow and reflect on their own lives. Like Adrian had once said, it's this heart and not muscle that makes Rocky such a relatable and timeless character, likely because, beyond the boxing ring, he illustrates the humanity and frailty in us all.