Reality cannot be wrestled with

Rating: 8/10 (1 February 2009)

The Wrestler is without a doubt Darren Arronovskys most straightforward films to date and proves that he has the talent to handle a wide range of genres and styles, a skill which David Fincher may not have in light of his uneven Benjamin Button. Here, Mickey Rourke plays an aging professional wrestler who is lost in some no man's land between his 80's hey day and the realities of his bruised and broken 21st century self. After a brutal bout, The Ram's body betrays him and he ends up alone and battered by life, trying to recover from a heart attack. Unable to compete in the ring and alienated from everyone around him, he reaches out to a sympathetic stripper (Marisa Tomei) and makes a last attempt to connect with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood). The Ram is approached for a high profile rematch with a former foe and he must choose between a potentially fatal return to the ring and the tiny, nascent possibility of a real life which he has carved out for himself.
Much has been made of the parallels between Rourke and The Ram but making that connection takes away from the sterling work by Rourke. He inhabits the character totally  no doubt helped by his increasingly bizarre features (he underwent reconstructive surgery after a short lived boxing career) but also bringing a strange naïve sweetness to a difficult role. For The Ram, it is life outside of the ring that is hard, the everyday is not subject to the rules and controls which exist in a wrestling match. And, most telling of all, you always know who is going to win in a wrestling match  in real life it is never certain. Even when Randy's life is going well, there is always a sense of fatalism, the sense that he cannot allow himself to succeed because he is too afraid of not knowing what will happen next.
Alongside Rourke, Tomei gives a good performance, although she is far too attractive for the role of a forgotten stripper. Seeing the two of them together comes across as aspirational rather than real, an anomaly in an otherwise naturalistic film. Likewise, Rourke's relationship with his daughter, though heartfelt, is spiked with too much cliché to be truly engaging. She is the hate-filled daughter who grew up without a father while he plays the immature, absentee dad who lost his way in a multitude of character flaws. These elements weaken the film to some extent but are generally forgivable  especially in light of the fact that Wood features in some of Rourke's strongest scenes and she holds her own very well for such a young actor.
One of The Wrestler's greatest assets is its camera-work by Maryse Alberti. Fluid and almost documentary style, it also manages to be a commentary on theme and character. Often when Rourke is walking to a new location, the camera follows close behind, hand-held. This deliberately apes that oft-used shot of a fighter on the way to the ring, enhanced by the claustrophobic corridors he walks down, mirroring those underneath a stadium. This connection is made literal as Rourke walks in one long take to the deli counter, with crowd noises on the soundtrack. Rourke literally treats every moment as though he were on the way to the ring, and this is another subtle indication of his inherent immaturity and fear of reality. When faced with another life, he retreats  even going so far as working in the same dead end job for fear of being forced to grow up. Rourke's man child is pathetic, selfish and broken but in the ring he is loved, adored and lauded for not growing up. It is an escape for the character and not fundamentally different from the many ways in which we all escape from responsibility and the vicissitudes of reality.
The Wrestler is a strong and simple film about a deeply flawed and powerfully sympathetic character. Rourke's performance is mesmerizing and his envelopment in the character complete. As the film ends and Bruce Springsteen's 'The Wrestler' plays over the credits we cant help but wish that things could have worked out better for The Ram but the fact is, outside of the ring, no one ever knows who is going to win.