Francis Ford Coppola is one of the most prolific crime film directors of all time. His Godfather films are part of the world’s most esteemed cinematic canon, and his unique style has inspired countless derivative works. But nobody is without failure, not even famed filmmakers. In 1983, Coppola released one of the most beloved coming-of-age films of all time. The Outsiders strengthened the enduring success of S. E. Hinton’s novel and cemented its place in pop culture.
But it wasn’t the only time Hinton worked to receive the silver-screen treatment. A few months after The Outsiders hit theaters, a second Coppola work made its debut. Unfortunately, Rumble Fish received a cold welcome upon its release. While it had all the same underlying themes of familial affection and support, Coppola’s second Hinton adaptation may have doomed itself with its visionary framing. That’s not to say it’s a bad film. In some ways, Rumble Fish is superior to its more beloved cousin. It has a stronger individual style and look. It has a sense of visual identity and understated charisma that The Outsiders tends to overplay. It even has some of the same actors, albeit in different roles.
Francis Ford Coppola’s Rumble Fish Explores Two Brothers in Small-Town America
- Coppola considered Rumble Fish a personal reward for completing The Outsiders.
- Interestingly, the film’s theme, “Don’t Box Me In,” enjoyed plenty of success on radio stations.
- Warner Brothers declined distribution rights after seeing and disliking an early cut of Rumble Fish.
Overall, the film is a fairly faithful reproduction of Hinton’s story. Its plot can be boiled down to an in-depth character study of the relationship between two brothers. The main character and younger sibling, Rusty James (Matt Dillon), idolizes his rebellious older brother, Motorcycle Boy (Mickey Rourke). Yet, it seems Motorcycle Boy has little time for Rusty.
At the film’s start, the eldest brother has been missing for two months. Tulsa is now gripped by heroin addiction, and the tenuous peace between its two largest gangs is rapidly dissolving. Rusy fails to replicate his brother’s success, but Motorcycle Boy’s reappearance saves both his life and the film’s plot. The seemingly mundane coming-of-age crime drama quickly turns to a heartfelt study of familial affection and societal pressures.
Motorcycle Boy is surrounded by a seemingly indomitable mythos. He is the conceptual equivalent of Paul Bunyan on Tulsa’s rough streets. Thanks to rumors of mental instability, both foes and allies keep their distance. Nonetheless, the eldest brother makes it clear that he has abandoned his former ways.
The ideological feud between the two brothers forms the crux of the film’s conflict. Motorcycle Boy had abandoned his criminal ways and pleaded for his younger brother to do the same. Yet, Rusty still feels connected to Tulsa’s streets. The inherent tension between these diametric views forces a wedge between the seemingly inseparable brothers. It broils beneath the film’s surface, tinging even the clamest moments with a sense of finely honed danger.
Why Was Rumble Fish a Box Office Flop?
- Cinematographer Stephen H. Burum cites Orson Welles and German Impressionism as the film’s greatest visual inspirations.
- Coppola compared the relationship between Rumble Fish and The Outsiders to the link between Apocalypse Now and The Godfather.
- The film’s eye-popping footage of a brightly colored fighting fish against a black-and-white backdrop was achieved with practical effects.
On the surface, it seems like an instant hit. Rumble Fish’s summary reads like the sort of high-tension drama that propels otherwise mundane gangster films to new heights. But that never happened. Instead, the film’s eye-watering $10 million budget — roughly equal to over $20 million today — was never recouped. Rumble Fish ended its box office run with a $7.5 million loss. So, what happened?
It’s not as if everyone leaving the theater was interviewed. There’s no definitive reason for Rumble Fish’s failure. At best, film historians have nebulous theories. Narratively, Rumble Fish isn’t as clean as The Outsiders. Its shifts between past and present are one thing, but the additional layer of metatextual introspection is a new layer of complexity.
Perhaps it was overshadowed by The Outsiders. At its core, Rumble Fish is an avant-garde art film. It’s a narrative exploration of a complex topic that had the same hallmarks of a previous success, yet it utilized them differently. In that sense, it lacks the same appeal. It’s not as “obvious” or optimistic. It’s not as approachable. That’s not to say the audience lacks intelligence; rather, it’s a simple observation of the inevitable arc of pop culture.
Some art films succeed. Others fail. There’s a fine line between what audiences want to see — the sort of experimentation that captivates the masses — and what is considered “pretentious” or “high-brow.” Rumble Fish crossed that line, if only by a hair, and doomed itself to relative obscurity. But, again, that is not a criticism of Coppola’s unsung masterpiece.
In fact, the film’s artistic choices have earned it a place of utmost respect in film enthusiast circles. Ultimately, despite its age, Rumble Fish is as eye-popping now as it was in 1983.
A Unique Film With an Artistic Vision
- Composer Stewart Copeland recorded ambient audio from Tulsa, Oklahoma, and mixed the noises into the film’s soundtrack.
- Despite its financial losses, Rumble Fish’s unique style and vision earned it critical acclaim at multiple film festivals.
- In his review for the film, Jay Scott of The Globe and Mail humorously chided Coppola for having “the commercial sense of a newt.”
Throughout Rumble Fish, the story is presented in symbolic black-and-white. Only a single fighting fish has any sort of color. Its vivid, blood-red scales clash with the rest of the film, intentionally foreshadowing the underlying themes of violence and passion. Whenever it appears, its elegant movements clash with the film’s angularity and intentionally heightened shadows.
Its claustrophobic fight scenes often seem too choreographed to match the frenetic action of The Outsiders. Every carefully composed movement seems like a better fit for a high-flying kung-fu movie than a rough-and-tumble gangster flick. The drama, despite the cast’s spectacular performances, often feels too soft for the genre. While these facts are fully intentional, they’re not entirely palatable to many theater-goers. Audiences crave what they see in the trailers, and Rumble Fish delivered more artful introspection than street gang parables.
Time passes through visually stunning but inactive time-lapse footage of billowing smoke and drifting clouds. Settings are often established through Dutch angles — dramatically tilted views of scenery. Genre-typical skyline views are replaced by thoughtful images of what makes a place unique.
Everything about Rumble Fish is specifically chosen to create an overwhelming sense of unease. At times, the unspoken anxiety skyrockets, flinging the film close to the edge of the thriller genre. Coppola’s multilayered approach creates an intermingling dance of clashing ideas and drama. It’s a remarkable spectacle, but it’s far from what most audiences expect when seeing a follow-up to a classic coming-of-age tale.
And it may be that disconnect that doomed Rumble Fish. For all its merits, Coppola’s vision was just that — a brilliant, immersive view of a complex story. It never tries too hard to be a gangster or crime film, although that’s its technical classification. Instead, it follows its own path. It finds new avenues to explore old tropes. The result is unbelievably stunning. Rumble Fish is a stunning testimony to Coppola’s directorial prowess, and it’s far from overrated. But it’s not what audiences wanted; it’s not The Outsiders.
