jeśli twoje dziecko najbardziej na świecie kocha filmy, a ty najbardziej na świecie kochasz swoje dziecko, to kup mu cinema speculation - w świątyni, rozdział 14:

Now as you can have guessed, judging from my enthusiasm for all things Sylvester Stallone at that time, I loved Paradise Alley! Who knows how many times I saw it in the cinemas when it came out. I also read the very entertaining novelization written by Stallone himself, and later bought the film on video back when MCA home video cassettes were crazy expensive. I even had the Paradise Alley poster up on my bedroom wall for a while. Not to mention I owned the soundtrack (which was a really good
soundtrack album and it introduced me to Tom Waits). I loved it so much one of the first scripts I ever tried writing was a straight-up rip-off of Stallone’s epic titled Brooklyn B.R. (don’t ask what B.R. stood for, like Reservoir Dogs, it didn’t mean anything, it just sounded good). (..) But if you were a Paradise Alley fan, the most important thing wasn’t liking it, it was defending it against all comers. And when it came to defending Paradise Alley, I dare say I did a damn sight better job than Stallone. My biggest claim was, “Paradise Alley was one of the greatest directorial debuts of the seventies! And the greatest actor-director directorial debuts [along with Orson Welles] of all time!” Fakk John Cassavetes, fakk Charles Laughton, fakk Charlie Chaplin, it’s Paradise fakking Alley!
Okay, but how do I feel about it now?
Well, maybe it isn’t “one of the greatest directorial debuts of all time!”
But it is a very good debut of a filmmaker with both obvious talent and vision (dare I say Stallone is the best director Sylvester has ever worked with). And in its own way, it’s the purest expression of the particular vision that the actor had back in those days.