The Wrestler director Darren Aronofsky was saddled with the title of indie kid-wizard with his film debut, 1998's Pi. His second offering, Requiem for a Dream, struck a core nerve of disaffected youth and became a not-so-cult classic. Things were looking good for Aronofsky, but he seemed to wipe his ass with all of it in 2006, when he offered up The Fountain, a waste-of-time drab fantasy centering on the Tree of Life.
Rourke doesn't hold anything back in this latest bid to regain relevance; he puts his heart and soul into Randy "The Ram" Robinson, a professional wrestler who ruled the world in the '80s (cough*Hogan*cough) but now can't even pay the rent on his trailer in the guts of one of New Jersey's many mobile home slumtropolises. Randy, having been reduced to the standard aging wrestler fare - token fights on the weekend, community center trade shows and token high school gym appearances - is barely making ends meet. He works a menial grocery store job during the week, enduring endless needling by a scrawny manager with masturbation on the mind.
Unable to sustain any real relationships, Randy lives instead for the thrill of the show and the adoration of his fans; but public attention has long been shifting away from the aging star, whose younger, faster successors are turning to more extreme methods to satiate the fans (to hell with folding chairs - I'm talking barbed wire, broken glass, staple guns, etc) - methods his body won't put up with anymore.
Taking a hard, sad look at his life and the glory that once was after a heart attack forces him into retirement, he faces the sad truth that he's not immune to the pain of solitude, especially because it was self-imposed. His fame came at the cost of abandoning any human connection, including his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood), who now hates his guts.
When a would-be romance with an aging stripper (Marisa Tomei) seems to go nowhere, Randy realizes that the only thing he's ever loved - that's loved him back in a language he can understand - is the ring.
Marisa Tomei's supporting performance as the dancer Randy spends all his time chatting up is remarkable, for more than a few reasons. First and most distracting, she's not only stark raving naked or in nothing but a thong for the majority of her screen time, but she's also grinding and writhing like her life depends on it. And good God, the woman has never looked better. She also happens to turn in the performance of her career, playing a struggling single mother desperate for respect and independence.
Mickey Rourke doesn't play Randy, he becomes the grizzled wrestler, and you believe every second of his agony. One gets the impression that Mickey feels a much deeper kinship with the character than first meets the eye - he doesn't ask for pity, and seems deeply uncomfortable when it's offered. In all, it's a pretty direct story without many frills, but the texture and depth of the characters is strong - strong enough to make The Wrestler among the five best films of 2008.
CraveOnline's Rating: 8 out of 10
