Tonight’s film, The Wrestler.

For director Darren Aronofsky, it marks a major return to form after the ridiculous The Fountain. (His next film apparently, will be a remake of Robo-Cop. Sigh.). Not to mention going from working with Hugh Jackman to Mickey Rourke.

Shot almost entirely with handheld cameras and also apparently mostly on location – if it has a documentary feel to it, in no small part that’s because cinematographer Maryse Alberti also shot Gonzo, Taxi to the Dark Side, Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room and other notable non fiction films.

The film is a throwback to the 70s style of film that was centered more around character than plot. And that’s a good thing because the plot, what little there is of it, is an old story and told in a relatively predictable fashion. There are no surprises, no plot twists, the film goes pretty much exactly where you expect it to go. But it never bogs down and rarely seems to drag. The whole thing works because the characters are convincing and two of the three lead actors are amazing.

Mickey Rourke is every bit as amazing as you’ve no doubt already heard. Rourke was once handsome leading man material, then he destroyed his face by spending years in professional boxing, and has been effecting something of a comeback lately, following the time honored path of being very good in small roles. So it goes almost without saying that he grasps what it feels like to play a professional wrestler who was big 20 years ago and now lives alone in a trailer, wrestling for pocket change on weekends and working in a grocery store during the week.

Marisa Tomei’s role also seems to be a metaphor for her career. After winning an Oscar in 1992, she followed that up with a series of increasingly forgettable roles. She’s 44 years old now, playing a stripper who’s 44 years old, dancing on stage, maybe thinking about the days when she was younger and guys were lined up for private dances but now mostly thinking about her son and getting enough money to move someplace where the schools are better. Her performance is every bit as fearless as Rourke’s and not merely because she spends about half her time on screen topless. And one thing that comes across is that Randy the Ram and Cassidy may be stereotypes in their public personas but offstage each is very real. Maybe they weren’t smart when they were young, but age and experience has brought them both some degree of wisdom, kindness and even gentility.

I suppose at some level Aronofsky and writer Robert Siegel are comparing wrestling and stripping – the chemically or surgically enhanced bodies, some real blood and some real sex on display but at the end it’s all scripted, all an illusion that many gladly pay for and that some prefer to think is real. I guess you could say movies are like that, too. And many of us reach a point in our lives where we find we’re only good at doing one thing but people aren’t so interested in seeing us do that one thing any more. Where do we go from there? What do we do next?

The Wrestler doesn’t really answer those questions. Because for everyone the answer is different.

Go see this film if you want to see a great character piece and some terrific acting. Don’t go see this film thinking it’s Saturday night thrills ‘n spills. See it for Rourke and Tomei, both may never have a chance to be this good again.

Hongkie Town
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