Leonard
was host and mentor for the first, second and third seasons of the critically acclaimed
series, “Contender,” on NBC & ESPN. Leonard recently appeared in the
critically acclaimed Paramount Pictures’ feature film “The Fighter.”
Leonard
recently released his first autobiography (Viking Books) entitled “The Big
Fight: My Life in and out of the Ring.”
Having
learned to box at the age of 14, Leonard’s illustrious career includes three
National Golden Gloves titles, two Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) championships
and the 1975 Pan-American Games crown. After winning a gold medal in
boxing at the 1976 Olympic games, he turned professional to help his family
defer mounting medical bills incurred because of his father’s illness. Blinding
speed, tremendous power and great charm turned Leonard into an immediate media
favorite. The late Howard Cosell called Leonard the “new Mohammed Ali.”
In
1977, at the age of 20, Leonard won his first professional fight. During his 20-year
professional career, Leonard also won world titles in the welterweight, junior middleweight,
super middleweight and light heavyweight divisions. He was the first boxer
to win world titles in five different weight classes, a record that stands to
this day.
Leonard’s
sincere, charismatic personality coupled with his ring experience led to a
successful career as a television broadcaster for NBC, ABC, HBO and ESPN.
In addition, his celebrity status and tremendous crossover appeal fostered
commercial endorsement relationships. Leonard is also among the most
sought-after motivational/inspirational speakers in the world today.
Successful
business ventures aside, Leonard has always been devoted to the community and
to helping those in need. For many years, Leonard has been the
international chairman of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation Walk for a
Cure. He also participates in a variety of national and international
causes benefiting children’s charities.
Leonard
has four children and lives in Southern California with his wife Bernadette.
Q : How did you
come to consult on “Real Steel”?
A: Stacey
Snider’s kids go to the same school that mine do. She approached me at a
parent-teacher meeting and gave me a script to read. She said, “Ray, I might
have something for you.” When she told me the premise of the movie I said, “Wow,
this is great.” Then she said Hugh Jackman was in it and I jumped at the
opportunity.
A: With
Hugh, my objective was to make him look like a real fighter. I conveyed to him
that boxing isn’t just about throwing a punch. As a fighter you have to have
conviction and intention when you throw a punch. Landing a punch to someone’s
face has to match that intention.
The biggest thing he struggled with was
letting go, surrendering and dropping his guard to be a fighter. When I look
back at boxing films, the only ones that come to mind where the actor let go
and became that fighter were “Raging Bull,” “Million Dollar Baby,” “Requiem for
a Heavyweight” and “The Fighter.” It’s very hard for a superstar to do that—let
go of their thing and for a moment know what it’s like to be a fighter.
Working with Hugh was a pleasure. He’s
an A-list actor but he was so eager to learn. He had such a thirst for learning
and really performing. I’m sure when he went home he was probably in the mirror
boxing. He’s a real perfectionist.
Hugh plays the trainer of the robot
fighter Atom. The relationship between trainer and boxer is very, very intimate
and powerful. I told Hugh that he needed to get to a point where he was talking
to Atom with his eyes. The audience will feel that. He pulled it off.
With the robots, my job was to give
them a personal boxing style that matched their design. For instance, Zeus is
big and strong so I thought of George Foreman. With Atom, I saw a lot of me in
him because he was unassuming, kind of innocent looking and fast. That’s why I
gave him a few of my signature moves.
Q: Hugh Jackman
has boxed for fun and he’s in excellent physical condition. With so much
already going for him, did you have any unexpected challenges when you were
trying to train him?
A: I
always expect unexpected challenges. Boxing is not an easy sport. My whole
thing with Hugh was for him to have the right expressions on his face so that
he looked like a fighter. I wasn’t that interested in the physicality of what
boxers do. I just made sure that when he delivered the punch, he felt the punch
connect.
Q: Was there a particular
fight scene that was more of a challenge for you?
A: Once
I choreographed the combinations for the fight it was essentially ready to go.
You can just repeat the combinations over and over again. I just didn’t know if
the robots could really emulate the kind of punch that I was demonstrating, but
the robots were very loose. They did a great job.
Q: Your son was
the same age that Dakota Goyo is when you were boxing. Did you see any
similarities in the father/son relationship in “Real Steel”?
A: I
get sad sometimes because I was a kid myself when I had a kid, Little Ray. I
didn’t really spend that much time with him because I was always working and
all he wanted was my time. He just
wanted me to love him. Max says in the movie, “Fight for me,” and I totally
understood that. Kids just want you.
It’s ironic that that’s the kind of
relationship that Charlie and Max have. It really hit home for me and I think people
will understand it when they see the movie. There’s a very powerful message in
the movie about fighting for something that is very special, important and
innocent.
Q: One of the
messages of the film is that the robots are essentially soulless and don’t have
the spirit of a real fighter in them. Was there a difference in your approach
to Atom and the other robots for that reason?
A: There
was a sense of something human about Atom. I took my wife and kids to the set
and their reaction to him told me a lot.
Q: Did you always know you’d be a boxer?
A: No
one, particularly my mother and father, thought I was going be a boxer. I
always felt that even football and baseball were too dangerous and I was just a
very quiet kid. I found boxing when I was 14 years old. My brother, who used to
beat me up all the time, introduced me to it. He took me down to the boxing
gym. It turned out that boxing was a sport I felt safe doing because I could control
what was going on in the ring. I was the most disciplined guy around. I would get up at five o’clock in the morning
and run five miles and then go to school. I knew what I wanted.
Many years ago, when I was 15 or 16 and
I had started climbing the ladder of success in amateur boxing, a reporter
asked me, “What do you want to be?” I think he was expecting me to say “champion.”
I said I wanted to be special. I don’t know why I said that but I didn’t just
want to be a fighter. I wanted to have an impact on people, particularly kids. I
look back now and realize that I worked hard to be respected.
A: I
don’t miss getting hit but I do miss the camaraderie. I still choreograph
fights in my head. I choreographed every fight I ever had and nine times out of
ten it came to fruition. I had this ability to draw a plan in my head, have a
vision, and then complete it.
You know, when people meet me for the
very first time, they’re surprised. Even my wife said, “I can’t believe you
were a fighter.” She thinks I’m such a sissy now because of my demeanor. But I’ve
always been quiet and kind of shy. Because of my exposure in the world and
around the press I know how to do interviews. But if I walk into a party I’ll
probably end up in the corner.
Q: What is it
about boxing that makes for such good cinema?
A: It’s
raw. It’s very primal. It’s one on one. Going mano a mano is that gladiator,
warrior thing. The guy sitting on his sofa lives vicariously through the boxer.
I think it’s just the ultimate “stand up and show who’s best.” Ultimately, a
fight is about who the best boxer is pound for pound. Both fighters claim that
they are. They fight each other. The money will put them in a whole different
tax bracket but it goes beyond the money. It’s about your legacy. It’s about
history. It’s about bragging rights.
What drew me to boxing was the fact
that it was such a one-on-one thing. When you walk from the dressing room to
the ring you must bring your A game. The three fights that I lost I knew—not
that I was going to lose, but that it was going to be a long night. When I
walked into that ring I said to myself, “I wonder if they would mind postponing
this?” I believe in body rhythms and I believe in being “up.” There are certain
days when you just don’t want to go to work and I didn’t want go to work on
those nights. I really wished I could have postponed the match on those three
nights.
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