The Wrestler (D. Aronofsky, 2008)

The phrase "art imitates life" is often thrown around in a maladroit manner, and can sometimes limit the impact art can have on us. In film, amidst the blockbusters and animation, a few poignant and revealing pictures manage to survive. Pictures that when looked upon by an individual such as myself, deliver such an emotional blow that they linger in your mind for days, and days, and days.
Such a film is pretty rare to come by, and I've often been let down by my desire for such a film invigorating my expectations to a point thats near impossible to please. A scenario that was the likely result of a foray into New York City to catch Darren Aronofsky's The Wrestler, a film I have been following all year. The film was already highly touted, winning the Golden Lion (Best Film) prize at the Venice Film Festival, and the lead actor, Mickey Rourke, gobbling up critics awards for his performance as Randy "The Ram" Robinson, an aging wrestler struggling to cope with his career, his fading glory, and his estranged daughter.
The plot unfolds with terrific prudence, guaranteeing the audience's investment in Randy from the get-go. The film is littered with diverse moments of humanity and privation, which strap the audience into the roller coaster life that belongs to Randy The Ram. From his grueling matches in the basements of recreation centers, to his playful encounters with his fans, his interactions with his only friend, a stripper named Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), and his heartfelt, stirring encounters with his daughter Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), the plight of The Ram evolves into a story everyone can relate to, a story about the fear of being lost and forgotten.
The film is carried by the superb direction of Darren Aronofsky (Pi, Requiem For A Dream, The Fountain), and the tour de force provided by Mickey Rourke. Aronofsky creates an atmosphere so cold that it leaves the audience feeling like Randy The Ram. When Randy is prancing about in the ring, you root for him, and with every move he lands, you feel a sense of joy and triumph. You feel every dream of yours become deferred when Randy is told by his doctors his health is declining and he shouldn't wrestle anymore. You hang on every word he says, from his heartfelt attempts to reconnect with Stephanie to his final speech, declaring that only the fans in the arena can tell him when he's through doing his thing. And you do this because looking at Randy the Ram is like looking into a mirror. We've all felt depressed, and we've all had aspirations that never came to fruition. Everyone has experienced loss, and we've all felt the fierce sting of love slipping away. Rourke creates such a memorable character, that at the end of the film, you feel like you've know Randy Robinson all of your life.
Which brings me to the performance of Mickey Rourke; a performance so majestic that it transcends the boundaries of what we know as acting, and into a spectacle that words won't suffice to describe.. Rourke dissolves into his character both physically and mentally; he added twenty-five pounds of muscle for the role, and every line delivered, every facial expression, every emotion he feels, they all seem so real. Maybe its because like Ram, Rourke was considered a has-been. Once called the most talented actor of his generation, Rourke quit acting to become a professional boxer. After that career floundered, Rourke wasn't welcomed back into the graces of Hollywood. Desperate for cash, Rourke lent his services to a variety of straight to video releases and lost nearly all credibility as an actor. With The Wrestler, he's come roaring back, snatching critics awards left and right, and most recently landing a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actor In A Leading Role. The strife that Randy faces is all too familiar to Rourke, that when he delivers his final monologue, you wonder if you're watching a piece of art, or real life.
The rest of the cast is very good, but overshadowed by the eminence that is Rourke. Marisa Tomei delivers a powerful performance as a stripper/mother who tries to reach out to Randy, but finds herself trapped by her professional boundaries. Evan Rachel Wood is sublime as Randy's estranged daughter, showing mature restraint in a role that required to be both nuanced and perturbed. The script by Robert Siegel is tight, and shows a keen understanding of both professional wrestling and life itself. The wrestling scenes are choreographed to perfection; it looks, sounds, and feels like Wrestlemania. To top it all of, Bruce "The Boss" Springsteen provides us with a beautiful titular song that is both desolate and uplifting.
The Wrestler a film I have no qualms with being called a masterpiece. It is a magnificent piece of cinema that manages to be accessible, while maintaining an art-house feel. The ambiguous ending is one that loiters around in your head like vagabonds in Central Park. The tale of Randy The Ram is certainly not one to be missed.