Features

Visit the Wrestler Website

To answer the question burning on all of your minds: yes, Mickey Rourke deserves every bit of praise he is receiving for his performance in The Wrestler. His portrayal of Randy “The Ram” Robinson is minimalist and epic at the same moment; never could there be a more perfect combination to describe such a complicated, average, and legendary character. Pitch perfect directing by Darren Aronofsky (∏ and Requiem for a Dream) keeps this film, about a has-been figuring out life, original and interesting. He is long past his glory days in pro-wrestling, but far from approaching cliché status; in the end the film plays like a more empathetic and real Raging Bull than it does Rocky V.

The Wrestler is a concept piece: a “where are they now” of all of our favorite wrestlers from the raging ‘80s. Ever wonder what happened to Rowdy Roddy Piper, Coco Beware, the Big Boss Man, Hacksaw Jim Dugan, The Iron Sheik, or The Million Dollar Man? They are Randy “The Ram” Robinson. At one time a Hulk-Hogan like hero in a 1980s WWF (World Wrestling Federation)-like organization, Randy is now beyond down and out: no family, no friends, no stable job, and no money. Yet, he has his fans and his craft; and what is curious is that we cannot tell whether this is Randy’s true happiness or rampant addiction. Rourke gives Daniel Day Lewis a run for his method-acting-money with his performance. Watch this movie, then watch Rourke in 9 ½ Days or The Pope of Greenwich Village; this new face of Rourke (pun intended) is completely unrecognizable and nearly irreconcilable from his past efforts. He has stepped out [or been forced out] of the heartthrob role and digs down deep inside himself to find a real actor. In a sense, Randy “The Ram” is Rourke.

Decent performances are turned out by the co-stars of the film, Evan Rachel Wood as The Ram’s daughter and Marissa Tomei as The Ram’s love interest. These characters are a bit underdeveloped but still both Tomei and Wood turn out heavy performances with such little material. The star of the show is always supposed to be Rourke and director Aronofsky never lets us forget this. A majority of the film is shot from a hand held camera positioned behind Rourke; the perspective of a rampant fan following The Ram’s every move. More often than not, every person interacting with The Ram is a fan whose brief dialogue is confined to praise. He seems to be surrounded by fans yet, he is always alone at the top…or the bottom.

This film at times seems to punish the audience and fans of wrestling (or in general, rampant fans of any media figure), as it bluntly shows us the fruits of our animalistic desire to see these larger than life individuals who are at their core just human. We are allowed to watch Randy in the ring and forced to watch him outside of it as well, shooting steroids into his 50+ year-old ass, popping his hearing aid in and out as he changes social situations, bleeding into a near coma after a particularly gritty match, depressingly reliving his glory days to his stripper/love interest, his desperation for approval, and the poverty and emotional suffering it causes him. The Wrestler confronts, in the most unabashed manner, the trauma of spectacle.