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Story
Talk
about comebacks. After many years in the wilderness
and being considered MIA professionally, Mickey
Rourke, just like the washed-up character he plays,
attempts a return to the big show in "The
Wrestler." Not only does he pull it off,
but Rourke creates a galvanizing, humorous, deeply
moving portrait that instantly takes its place
among the great, iconic screen performances. An
elemental story simply and brilliantly told, Darren
Aronofsky's fourth feature is a winner from every
possible angle, although it will require deft
handling by a smart distributor to overcome public
preconceptions about Rourke, the subject matter
and the nature of the film.
Co-produced
by Wild Bunch in France, where Rourke has retained
his most loyal following through thick and thin,
this is nonetheless an American picture through
and through, beginning with the way it strongly
evokes the gritty working-class atmosphere of
numerous '70s dramas. Spare but vital, and with
the increasingly arty mannerisms of Aronofsky's
previous work completely stripped away, the film
has the clarity and simplicity of a great Hemingway
short story -- there's nothing extraneous, the
characters must face up to their limited options
in life, and the dialogue in Robert Siegel's superior
script is inflected with the poetry of the everyday.
All
the same, for the first few minutes one could
be excused for imagining the film was directed
by Belgium's Dardenne brothers, as ace lenser
Maryse Alberti's camera relentlessly follows around
aging wrestler Randy "the Ram" Robinson
(Rourke) from the back, concentrating on his long,
dyed-blond hair and hulking body before fully
revealing his mottled, puffy face. This guy is
20 years past his prime, but he's still in pretty
good shape and aims to get back on top on the
pro wrestling circuit.
Ram
seems to have always been a big fan favorite --
he is one of their own, a fearless bruiser the
white working stiffs can root for against the
assorted freaks, ethnic interlopers and outright
villains in this macho cartoon universe. A beguiling
early scene that firmly sets the movie on its
tracks shows an event's muscled participants,
all warmly easygoing and chummy with one another,
pairing up and discussing what moves they'll make
in their matches. A similar later scene has one
of the wrestlers offering Ram his choices from
a laundry list of dubious-sounding pharmaceuticals.
A
part from the momentary camaraderie of his ringmates,
however, Ram is alone in life. At the outset,
he's also penniless, locked out of his dismal
trailer home until he can pay up. He works occasionally,
lugging cartons at a big-box store, and his tough-guy
posture is adored by small kids, but he's got
no friends and nothing to show for his strenuous
efforts.
From
time to time, he has a drink at a gentlemen's
club, where he visits aging stripper Cassidy (Marisa
Tomei), whose days of using her body for her livelihood
are similarly numbered. After getting a load of
some of Ram's battle scars, Cassidy, whose real
name is Pam, tells him he ought to see "The
Passion of the Christ." "They threw
everything at him," she says, to which Ram
guesses Jesus must have been a "tough dude."
Ram must confront his mortality after the film's
second wrestling match, a bout so gruesome and
barbarous it will force some people to look away.
Assessing
his options while recovering, Ram decides to gently
step up his relationship with Pam, as well as
to try to reconnect with his daughter, Stephanie
(Evan Rachel Wood), whom he hasn't seen in years.
Both women have good reasons not to allow such
a damaged man into their intimate lives, but even
their most tentative signals of openness give
Ram reason to hope for a new chapter in his life.
His encounters with them are sensitively written
and acted with impressive insight and delicacy,
and Ram has one monologue in which he lays his
feelings bare to Stephanie at a deserted old Jersey
boardwalk -- "I deserve to be alone,"
he admits -- that is so great, one wishes it were
longer.
After
a stint at a deli counter that is the source of
more good character humor, Ram decides to unretire
and fight in a 20th-anniversary rematch of one
of his most legendary bouts, "Ram vs. Ayatollah."
Despite the hoopla, the way it all plays out is
as far from "Rocky Balboa" as one could
get, resulting in a climax that is exhilarating,
funny and moving.
Shot
in rough-and-ready handheld style, pic atmospherically
reeks of low-rent lodgings, clubs, American Legion
halls, shops and makeshift dressing rooms on the
Eastern seaboard in winter (it locationed in New
Jersey and Philadelphia). Stylistically, it's
agile, alert and most interested in what's going
on in the characters' faces.
And
that is a lot. Physically imposing at 57, with
a face that bespeaks untold battering and alteration,
Rourke is simply staggering as Ram. The camera
is rarely off him, and one doesn't want it to
be, so entirely does he express the full life
of this man with his every word and gesture. Ram's
life has been dominated by pain in all its forms,
but he's also devoted it to the one thing he loves
and excels at, so he asks for no sympathy; he
may have regrets, but no complaints.
As
vibrant -- and as naked -- as she was in last
year's "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead,"
Tomei is in top, emotionally forthright form as
she charts a life passage similar to Ram's, if
much less extreme. Once her character stops stonewalling
her father and hears him out, Wood provides a
fine foil for Rourke in their turbulent scenes
together. The many supporting thesps, especially
the wrestling world habitues, are richly amusing
and salt-of-the-earth.
Camera
(Technicolor, widescreen), Maryse Alberti; editor,
Andrew Weisblum; music, Clint Mansell; music supervisors,
Jim Black, Gabe Hilfer; production designer, Timothy
Grimes; art director, Matthew Munn; set decorator,
Theo Sena; costume designer, Amy Westcott; sound
(Dolby Digital), Ken Ishii; assistant director,
Richard Graves; casting, Mary Vernieu, Suzanne
Smith-Crowley. Reviewed at CAA screening room,
Los Angeles, Sept. 2, 2008.(In Venice Film Festival
-- competing; Toronto Film Festival -- Gala Premieres;
New York Film Festival -- closer.) Running time:
109 MIN.
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