The Wrestler (2008)

January 13, 2009

Seven Gables Theater, Seattle, WA

**** / ****

By Scott Muoio

“Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy” – F. Scott Fitzgerald

The Wrestler is one of the best movies I have ever seen. The film is a complete triumph because it is real, pays great attention to the details, features an amazingly subtle and true performance by Mickey Rourke, and is more honest about our inability to give up the past than just about any movie you will ever see. Most spectacularly, director Darren Aronofsky takes the simple story of a man who was once at the top of a very specific niche, the world of professional wrestling, but has since fallen to depressing lows and makes it a universal truth.

Performing sporadically at bingo halls and V.F.W. facilities, Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Mickey Rourke) is a former wrestling superstar searching for a comeback. His body plagued by a lifetime of injuries, his insides soiled by decades of drug and alcohol abuse, and his wrestling paychecks barely enough to pay his mobile home rent, Randy is an athlete desperate for a fountain of youth. Tanning, steroids, pain killers, and the rest of wrestling’s cold truth necessities keep Randy going but accelerated age accompanied by his body’s rapid decay spells The Ram’s imminent retirement, whether he wants it or not.

Inside the ring Randy still has “it,” that electric combination of athleticism, experience, name recognition, and charisma that lets him excite the small crowds that come to see him. But with time steadily moving forward, wrestling tastes constantly changing, and the increased demands of the sport ravaging his body, The Ram must supplement his wrestling gigs with work at the local supermarket.

In the “real” world, The Ram finds himself humiliated to have fallen from virtuoso entertainer to serving potato salad at the deli counter. Goofing with the customers as he cuts deli meat, The Ram finds glimpses of enjoyment in his part time job even as he must unceremoniously accept, or at least deal with, the fact that deli work can never be his career let alone his life. But between the disgust he feels for himself and his fear of being recognized wearing a hair net, literally dying in the ring seems more appropriate to The Ram than leading any type of “normal” life, the life far from his dreams, the life we all must eventually accept.

Adding insult to injury is Randy’s loneliness and a trail of broken bridges that litter his past. His adult daughter refuses to see him, the neighborhood kids that surely once idolized him now merely humour him, and his only acquaintances are the local promoters, steroid pushers, and other wrestlers whose stories are certainly as sad and depressing as his own. The only glimpse of sunshine through his darkness is a local stripper named Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), whose strip club Randy frequents. Perhaps identifying in one another a parallel, or at least connecting on a similarly surreal level, the two build a bond until Cassidy, whose real name is Pam, cuts the relationship short because she “can’t get involved with the customers.” It’s a heart wrenching yet inevitable turn that emphatically proves to Randy that the only love he will ever be capable of is between his Ram persona and the ever-dwindling crowds that cheer him as he proves to himself in the only way he can that he is alive.

Though The Wrestler tells a fascinating story it is its attention to details that truly makes it soar. From the accuracy in depicting wrestling fans and their obsessions to the lonely urban sprawl of northern New Jersey, the unfortunate dynamics of an absentee dad and his unforgiving daughter to the sad despair of working in a profession that requires a double life, The Wrestler captures many of the subtleties of living the life of faded dreams. Even when the film kids the musical tastes of the 1980s, a tactic that easily could have backfired and come off as ridiculous, its honest approach is both touching and humourous, a theme that swirls throughout the entire film.

Beyond the peripheries, the most important detail of The Wrestler is its main character, The Ram. Mickey Rourke is remarkable in his performance, instilling The Ram with the perfect amount of humour to create a solemn yet gruffly charming character whose inability to mature even when his body demands it is as real as it is fascinating. Rourke imbues The Ram with equal parts wit, pain, ignorance, and self-awareness humanizing the behind-the-scenes reality of a faded lifetime performer. Rourke’s performance is so good that it shows how in many ways the wrestler is very much each one of us. After all, aren’t we are all performers in one sense or another?

The technical aspects of The Wrestler likewise shine and enhance every aspect of the film. Whether it be the camera tracking The Ram from behind as he lumbers through the many challenges and daily tedium of his everyday life, the closely shot, high volume wrestling scenes that show both the reality and phoniness of the wrestling profession, or the clever shuffling of time for a key moment in The Ram’s life, Aronofsky’s decisions pay off brilliantly putting us close enough to The Ram to feel his pain while keeping us just distant enough to be objective of the whole matter.

The best aspect of The Wrestler, however, isn’t dramatic or technical, but rather the film’s main idea. Despite all the pain, loneliness, poverty, and trashed relationships Randy has left in his wake, the fact that The Ram never utters anything to the effect that he would give up any of his fame or successes to mend those wounds or change the lousy consequences of his life’s decisions is the film’s greatest revelation. Sure, Randy wants to make amends for at least some of his failures, but when push comes to shove neither forgetting the past nor going back to live life differently fit into his equation. Where lesser films would have Randy dishonestly repent for his sins and profess that he would have done things differently, The Wrestler refuses, quietly admitting that it is both the highs and lows that define us and make us who we are.

Because the film sticks to its guns straight through to its poignant conclusion, I suspect many leaving the theater will wonder “does The Ram suffer another heart attack, does he pin The Ayatollah and move on to bigger matches, does he get back together with Pam?” but to search for those answers misses the point. “The truth” in The Wrestler doesn’t rely on plot points or over dramatized character arcs, but rather the simple fact that The Ram can, will, and must continue mounting the top rope, the lights shining brightly upon him, the fans chanting his name, and stand poised for another shot at greatness. Those moments in the ring are The Ram’s life. Those moments where he assumes the wrestling rituals, the tanning, the work outs, the steroids, the backstage camaraderie, those are the moments when The Ram feels alive, those are the moments when he is himself and the only time and place when he feels comforted by his faith that there is something bigger and more important than himself. In other words, Randy can never leave his wrestling life because it is him, it is his home, and it is all he can ever be.

Director: Darren Aronofsky

Producer: Darren Aronofsky, Scott Franklin

Writer: Robert Siegel

Starring: Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Ernest Miller, Evan Rachel Wood

Original Music: Clint Mansell (“The Wrestler” by Bruce Springsteen)

Cinematographer: Maryse Alberti