I recently rewatched Scorsese’s Raging Bull (1980), a biographical movie on the life of the boxer Jake LaMotta. He became a boxing champion, even though many people tried to prevent it, and then he lost it all, ending up as a washed up club owner, before somewhat turning his life around. The first time I watched this movie, which was around two decades ago, I was quite impressed by it. The second time, though, I realized that rise-and-fall stories are highly manipulative. They are supposed to evoke an emotional reaction in the viewer who sees the hero fail and getting robbed of his riches, supposedly undeservedly so. “Don’t do it!”, you may think as you watch Jake LaMotta take a hammer to his champion belt to get the diamonds out.
A key aspect is completely left out of such movies, which I will detail below. Despite my subsequent criticism, however, I still think that Raging Bull is a good movie. It is well worth watching. The excessive violence is gross and my view on that topic did not change over the years. Some scenes are only there for their shock value. There are a few scenes that are so gruesome that they make Quentin Tarantino look like a choir boy. If you have not, I recommend watching this movie. It is not Scorsese’s best but it is still pretty good.
Heroic stories with a tragic end are intended to take the viewer, or reader, on an emotional roller coaster. You are supposed to empathize with the struggling protagonist and experience catharsis when he finally succeeds, just as you are expected to feel the pain as you observe his subsequent decline. If you take these stories at face value, you may indeed go through such an emotional ride. Yet, there is a difference in perspective that will drastically reduce the effect such stories have on you. The key observation is that tragic heroes were not likely to succeed and thus only came down to their baseline of expected success in life. I do not want to argue that you should embrace defeatism, of course.
Who takes up a career as an athlete, singer, actor, or movie director? Success in these fields is not at all guaranteed. However, the time investment is so high that you will seriously set your life back if you fail. Chances are that you will never recover. I happen to know a guy who had a serious shot at becoming an ice hockey professional. That did not happen. I know another guy who played basketball professionally in Europe, and he had the wherewithal to drop out in his mid-to-late 20s to do something else. Sure, it is great that they followed their passion, but these careers are not sure bets. You cannot manufacture success. You need to devote yourself to these careers for years and years, and you may still not succeed. These are people who were among a small number of top talents in their country. Nonetheless, they were not good enough to firmly establish themselves.
There are obviously people who are independently wealthy and can therefore do whatever they want. However, these people normally do not go into boxing. You find such people in the equestrian sports, for instance, because the barrier of entry is so high. If you do not have rich parents you are not going to have access to a horse, let alone own one, or many. On a side note, in Ancient Rome the rich were called the “equites”, lit. horsemen. You had to be rich to afford a horse, and at some point the rich were simply called equites, by means of a synecdoche.
Tragic heroes should not be pitied when they fall. Jake LaMotta would never have gone into boxing had he been wired differently, meaning: more normally. Thus, his boxing success was a biographical accident. He subsequently lost his money, due to stupid decisions. However, the same stupid decision-making led to him becoming a boxer in the first place. The same pattern applies to all high-risk, high-reward careers. It is not surprising that actors or singers develop a drug habit. I do not think that the reason is that they were bored and needed excitement. Instead, we are dealing with people who have a hard time with thinking ahead. The 20-year old roider in the gym is not thinking about the risk of dying of a heart attack at 45, just as the aspiring artist likely does not have a plan B in mind if his career fizzles out or perhaps never gets off the ground. In their mind, they are going to succeed, otherwise they would not take such a high risk.
To put it more bluntly, do not pity a fallen hero! They only lost money that they only accidentally got, similar to lottery winners who end up broke after a couple of years. Of course there is talent, but there is enormous luck involved as well. I am sure that plenty of Hollywood actresses only got their big break because Harvey Weinstein wanted them to suck his dick whereas there surely were many other actresses equally as beautiful if not even better-looking who somehow did not tickle his fancy, or perhaps he got his dick sucked three times that day already so the casting couch was closed. When an actress like Amber Heard — this is unrelated to my point about Harvey Weinstein — falls from grace, we hear about it. On the other hand, we do not hear about all the other actresses who never get more than a few minor roles before they disappear.
Fallen heroes were probably not fit to hold on to their wealth. This happens to a lot of athletes. They did not make a well-reasoned choice between becoming an accountant and pursuing sports. There is no alternative reality in which Mike Tyson is now a senior partner at a big law firm. These people make their risky career choices because of their personality traits, and the same personality traits will contribute to their downfall. Viewed from this perspective, tragic stories are a lot less captivating.