An unforgettable and powerful tale of personal triumph.

Rating: Null/10 (19 January 2009)

They say that only two things in the world sell anything worth counting: sex, and violence. The former has been a well established industry tailed to sharks for near on centuries, whether it's been on the streets or on camera. The same principles can be said for the latter, but not for quite as long. When it comes to violence, there are a few examples of such that draw in the crowds, and certainly none do quite as much money and business today as the wrestling world. Back in the eighties however, it was different. The money was less grandiose, the fame limited to the fans inside the arena and the health care less than hospitable. The Wrestler which in turn takes it upon itself to document both sides of life's biggest cash cows, tells such a tale of hardship not often documented- about people who gave so much and received little but the select admiration from people heckling in the crowds- but it also tells a compelling character story to boot. The result is an often compelling, eye opening and heart wrenching experience that always feel real, human and dignified, despite its central character's sometime dubious outlook on such qualities within himself.
While The Wrestler believe it or not- tells a story largely centred on a professional wrestler, now working his way through the harsh climate of independent organisations, the movie isn't as polarising or esoteric as you might imagine. Aronofsky, who, up until this movie has proved himself to be a director capable of telling grand stories, has always excelled in telling smaller ones revolving around human beings rather than obtuse ideas. Taking a step back from his previous effort which was a little on the robust side of things, the director here strips things down to a minimalistic character study with an under-riding story that delivers upon the theme of finding where you belong in life- who you are, and what you mean to the world. This shift in focus will certainly help ease in viewers who know nothing about professional wrestling, but that's not to say that Aronofsky neglects to detail the real hardship involved within the business.
The Wrestler, while spending a lot of time inside the squared circle, makes such instances play second batter to the real core of the story which comes in the form of battered, bruised but still livid and "dangerous" Randy 'The Ram' Robinson (Mickey Rourke). Through 'The Ram' the movie fleshes out the idea of wrestling as a spectacle, and the idea of a man as a burnt out but not entirely forgotten icon. Throughout the feature Robinson is put through tables, glass and barbed wire, but this is nothing it seems to the ordeals that happen outside the ropes. The script, which details Randy's domestic problems, is where the real substance of the character's personal story lies; there's his troublesome, unrequited affection for stripper Cassidy (Marisa Tomei) and his understatedly nonexistent relationship with estranged daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), all of which comes crashing into perspective following an after-match heart-attack. Both stories share common themes; Randy wants them to find a place for him within their lives, but neither seem able to accommodate such an unstable commodity. For Cassidy, "The Ram" is just a friendly customer who brings a smile with his money, and for Stephanie, her father is simply a screw-up who never showed any interest in her until his accident. At times, the script can get a little overbearing, and the ideas of such drama play out better than they do on screen, but both do plenty of justice to the eventual climax of the film which plays out with a coherent sense of realist poignancy fitting to the proceeding elements building up to that point. It's a stark, gutsy move by Aronofsky, but I could think of no better way to pull the curtain.
If there is one element that such moments of drama really bring out within The Wrestler however, it is within the performances from the central cast. Rourke, who spends much of the feature as a man at odds with himself and unsure of where he truly belongs, consistently encapsulates the psyche and body language of such a figure. It's an understated performance, and the movie is all the better because of it. Yet when Aronosky calls for larger moments, Rourke accommodates such instances with just as much ease, never coming across as stunted or out of place. His co-stars Tomei and Wood always play second place to the leading man, but do fine jobs in their own rights. Tomei in particular gives an equally understated performance that capitalises on the script's multi-layered approach to her character; Cassidy is found bare from the waist up for a lot of the movie's runtime, but that's not to say that her character is anything as such. There's plenty of dynamism here, and Rourke and Tomei do a good job of bringing it to life without slipping into mawkish melodrama.
And that, in turn, is what makes The Wrestler such a gripping, enthralling experience in the first place. With a mixture of three-dimensional drama and characterisation fluent with a well paced story that documents an under-documented side of the entertainment industry, The Wrestler can be a bloody mess at times, but only because that's how the lead character feels inside. It's a movie that tells a story fit for fables and legends, and yet it does so with an elegant refrain- and contrasted with the more viscerally compelling scenes of violence and personal struggle within a ring that feels more like home than his run-down trailer in the middle of nowhere, Randy 'The Ram' Robinson's story- much like himself- is an unforgettable and powerful tale of personal triumph; an eighties heavy metal classic fit to bang your head to and salute with a thousand lighters at the same time.

A review by Jamie Robert Ward (http://www.invocus.net)