Vince McMahon would have you believe that the greatest drama in the squared circle happens at Wrestlemania. But, Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler proves the most interesting drama in professional wrestling occurs in the hearts of the men behind the tights.
Based on a script by Robert D. Siegel, The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, and Evan Rachel Wood, follows aging pro wrestler Randy “The Ram” Robinson (Rourke) as he faces isolation and strained personal relationships in the waning days of his career. Technically, this is one of the most finely crafted films of the past year. Aronofsky creates a palpable sense of loneliness through deliberate pacing and minimalist staging. The New Jersey in The Wrestler is realistically dirty, but empty. At times, it seems as though Randy is the only one who exists in the world. In creating this isolation, Aronofsky masterfully interprets the theme of the piece through the visuals. Perhaps the most stunning images are those where Aronofsky films Randy from an over-the-shoulder perspective or alone in various settings. Adding to the power of the visuals is Aronofsky’s use of deliberate pacing. With a tight 95-minute runtime, The Wrestler never seems to drag despite the fact that in many scenes there is very little action. Aronofsky accomplish this by never letting quiet scenes linger beyond the five-minute mark.
Aronofsky’s wonderful visual direction and pacing enhance Siegel’s already masterful script. With graceful precision, Siegel’s script tells the oft-told story of the aging athlete’s comeback, but he does so against the backdrop of the oft-maligned sport of professional wrestling. Siegel delves into the locker rooms and rings of independent circuit pro wrestling with a positively electric authenticity. Veteran fans of wrestling may not be surprised to learn that matches are 40% staged and 60% real, but they will be mesmerized by the attention to detail and the elegant translation of locker room brotherhood. As a former fan of pro wrestling, I was excited to see the camaraderie of the locker room and the mechanics of staging a match depicted so accurately. Conversely, it broke my heart to see the physical and psychological pain these warriors put themselves through for our amusement, only to be discarded when the next big thing bumps them to dark matches.
Beyond the mat—to borrow a phrase—the script provides an agonizingly intimate portrait of a broken man doing his damndest to repair his heart. When Randy encounters a life changing event near the film’s opening, it serves as the perfect physical manifestation of a man whose soul was broken by his own design. After this event, Randy embarks on intimate journey to forge new and old connections with the most important people in his increasingly lonely life, stripper, Cassidy (Tomei) and his estranged daughter, Stephanie (Wood). Through these connections, Randy tries desperately to counteract the pain he’s caused himself and those he cares about. The climax to Randy’s journey is easily one of the most compelling and heart-wrenching conclusions to a reconciliatory quest. The riveting power of this journey is delivered through the understated performances of Rourke, Tomei, and Wood as people who have somehow survived being chewed and spit out by the very things they gave their lives to.
Undoubtedly, Rourke shines in a role that he earned more through life experience than his body of work. Most critics call this the resurrection of Rourke’s career, but perhaps it is better to view this performance as its zenith. Rourke’s fall from the top of the Hollywood food chain gave him intimate insight into portraying a washed up star and it shows. Rourke lends a perfect balance of gravitas, bravado, and introspection in portraying the Randy’s fleeting highs and persistent lows. Rourke makes Randy so likeable that your heart can’t help but break when you watch him struggle. Not to be outdone, Tomei and Wood provide equally nuanced and anguished performance. Tomei’s Cassidy is a pure reflection of Randy as another washed up performer being slowly and dishonorably discharged from their professions. Both cling listlessly to each other as they come to terms with the disparity between their bodies and their work. Tomei performance has a much more acidic quality than Rourke’s because her character is obviously bitter about her situation. Cassidy’s bitterness could be off-putting when held up against the genial Randy, but Tomei handles the role with such grace and maturity that you can truly understand why Cassidy is so bitter. Rounding out the trio, Rachel Evan Wood, who puts enough emotion into her few scenes that you’re amazed she didn’t have more screen time. In playing Stephanie, Wood channels the pain of abandonment into a vulnerable firestorm. As broken as Stephanie is, it is obvious some part of her wants her father in her life. However, the overwhelming pain of being left behind has made Stephanie so fragile that one false move could destroy any attempts at rekindling the father-daughter relationship. Stephanie’s interactions with Randy are subtle and powerfully moving. Even at the most difficult points in their relationship, the performances never go for over the top melodrama, as the actors keep the pain firmly grounded. That grounded pathos is indicative of all the wonderful performances in The Wrestler. This is a story about broken people desperately trying to put themselves back together, and the actors succeed at that exquisitely.
Between the performances, script, and direction, there were few films finer than The Wrestler last year. Aronofsky, the cast, and crew told a disgustingly moving story that moves your heart to joy as easily as it wrenches it. I highly recommend this film for any purveyors of finely crafted character studies. And I especially recommend this film for pro wrestling fans that only pay attention to the drama in the ring.
No comments:
Post a Comment