Raging Bull (or teaching Scorsese how not to fight)

i'm preparing to go teach Raging Bull

(obviously not really)

and find myself at a loss.

how to start?

where to begin?

i hear Aristotle arguing with Freud about catharsis.

a second Austrian, also dead, is making love to a French nobleman.

bloodshed and ejaculate ensue.

(the previous sentence contains two nouns, the second of which suffers from a long "a" sound in its more-frequent usage as a verb.
if it were French - like the nobleman - i would spell it ejaculàte.)

but this is beside the point.

the point is that this type of bawdy unproductive ramblingness is exactly what i'm hoping to prevent in my class...

[lapse 57 minutes]

i returned, feeling not unlike Jake after his final fight with Sugar Ray:

the blood.
the masochism.
the ropes against the skin.
the clever brutality of the camera.

i think of Jake.
i think of Jache.

he called last night and told me his woes.
i told him i heard little left of his life save the narration.

the bouts lost before the bell.