If we take the director's word, then there is no question about it since he has given a very clear answer: "It's really a straight, simple story, almost linear, of a guy attaining something and losing everything, and then redeeming himself. Spiritually."4 But the problem with this assertion is that it seems Scorsese is alone in thinking that Jake has achieved some kind of redemption, since there is almost unanimity in declaring that although there might have been some change in him, calling this change redemption is a mistake. Take for example scriptwriter Paul Schrader who has said: "I don't think it is true of La Motta either in real life or in the movie [that he has achieved redemption]; I think he is the same dumb lug at the end as he is at the beginning."5.
Film critics and film scholars have either reluctantly acknowledged the fact that there might have been some change in Jake but that it couldn't be called redemption or bluntly denied that it happened. But the problem with these interpretations is that they are looking at redemption in Raging Bull outside of its natural contexts: Catholicism, the world of classical boxing movies, and Scorsese's view on redemption as portrayed in his films. Jake's search for redemption is long and not always successful. I argue that Scorsese uses Raging Bull to criticize a ritualistic view of redemption by portraying the beginning of Jake's search as a futile attempt to submit himself to a public spectacle of ritual violence in the boxing ring and visually relating it to the sacraments and the crucifixion. It will only be later, in the loneliness of a jail cell estranged from his family and without having to go through a rite that Jake will achieve the self-awareness redemption requires.
But before asking about Jake's redemption, we need to ascertain what redemption is in a Catholic context. Redemption is what brings us back to grace.
