Fat City (1972)

dir. John Huston
writ. Leonard Gardner (novel)
feat. Stacy Keach, Jeff Bridges, Susan Tyrrell, Candy Clark, Nicholas Colasanto

Stacy Keach belongs to the 70s. Maybe that's unfair to a guy still turning up in a handful of TV and film roles each year, but I don't mean to critique his current work. It's about the way in which he owned the shambling, rough and tumble characters he played back then, whether as Calvin, a crook with big dreams, in The Gravy Train, Sgt. Stedenko, the always fumbling and delusional officer of the law, in Up in Smoke, or Tully, a down on his luck boxer, in Fat City. Keach doesn't need to sell hard to appear as the out-of-shape athlete considering another shot at the big time. His quiet cool, a confidence born from experience flows forth as he casually encourages Ernie (Bridges) to keep at the boxing game, sure after just a short round of sparring that the youngster has what it takes.

And Tully is right about Ernie, if less so about his own hopes for a return to the ring. Instead, he rolls around town, falling in with lonely lush, Oma (Tyrrell), as he drinks himself deeper into retirement. They form a mighty troubled pair, either perfect or the worst thing going for one another, drinking and sparring more violently than Tully can muster in a real bout, and wearing each other out in the process. Tully is a sucker for punishment though, unable to escape thoughts of Oma or the bars long enough to sustain the recovery he imagines.

As the film, and Tully, inhabit these places, Ernie nearly disappears, off to a bright future of boxing success, a wife, a child. But the men cross paths again, raising a glass for old times sake, both realizing that they've moved on and have little to share anymore. In this moment of revelation, Ernie sees his surroundings anew, sharply aware of the life he lives and the loss of his youth and prospects. And as a 70s Keach character, he doesn't even seem shaken, likely to keep cruising along, taking it day by day with an easy smile.