Review: The Wrestler

The Wrestler is a magnificent comeback for both its director Darren Aronofsky and its star Mickey Rourke. Villified by many (although not me) for The Fountain, Aronofsky has not so much bounced back as entirely re-invented himself, while Rourke reignites the screen charisma that marked him out at his early 80s height.

Rourke is The Ram, a professional wrestler, who like his chosen profession has fallen on hard times. Like Rourke, The Ram clearly has talent, clearly has good intentions, but can’t help but fuck up whenever he’s close to being happy. The film charts in a slightly predictable fashion how the ageing hero decides he will no longer wrestle, how he seems to turn his life (love- and family-) around and how he fucks all that up.

But it’s not unrelentingly bleak: there are so many beautiful scenes of real, aching emotion and psychological breakthroughs, particularly with Marisa Tomei (his possible squeeze) and Rachel Evan-Wood (his estranged daughter), while the first time The Ram works on the deli counter at the supermarket will warm even the coldest cockles (Aronofsky displaying a previously untapped lightness of touch).

Like Heath Ledger as The Joker in The Dark Knight, much will be written about Rourke’s powerhouse performance – and all of it entirely justified. It’s not simply a case of Rourke playing himself, for there is more to The Ram than just a potted history of Rourke’s mistakes. Nevertheless it’s hard not to see The Ram’s journey as enormously therapeutic for Rourke, rehabilitating him into Hollywood.

Two films cast shadows over The Wrestler, namely Rocky and Raging Bull, but for my money, it’s better than both. It has shares a similar gritty 70s attitude with those two, but it’s warmer than Raging Bull but not as sentimental as Rocky.

The conclusion is pleasingly open-ended, the support from Tomei and Evan-Wood outstanding and the score from Clint Mansell is top-notch.

The film is likely to be widely nominated and rewarded by every awards body going

In short, a must-see.
Score: 8.5