Less is more.
It’s an ageless maxim, especially in the arts, but is it always true? I’m a fan of simplicity myself. As I get older, I find myself less and less interested in spectacle; especially if it’s at the expense of characters. This is a major reason why Transformers was as boring to me as it was. All some movies have going for them are special effects. They’re great to watch on the big screen, but ultimately, there’s no attachment to the characters or their circumstances.
On the exact opposite end of the filmmaking spectrum is Darren Aronofsky’s drama The Wrestler. No special effects, no quick edits, no fancy cinematography. Unflinching realism is the order of the day, and absolutely everything is at the service of the character. But does it work?
In this case, it does. Mickey Rourke plays Randy “The Ram” Robinson, a professional wrestler two decades past his prime and doing matches for cash while working part-time at a grocery store. He lives a relatively lonely life; he’s estranged from his daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) and really only communicates with a stripper (Marissa Tomei) and his fellow wrestlers. After a brutal hardcore match involving barbed wire, staplers, silverware, and plate glass, Ram suffers a heart attack and is forced to face a life without wrestling.
The Wrestler is driven primarily by Mickey Rourke’s performance. He’s very rarely not on-screen, and he’s only absent from two or three scenes. Rourke is, thankfully, up to the challenge. His performance is powerful in it’s own right, garnering sympathy even for his stupidest decisions and most avoidable mistakes, and making the most of his sparse dialogue. His speech to the crowd in the film’s final match could have been played as cheesy and intentionally tear-jerking, but Rourke sells it without a trace of self-awareness. How much of his performance is technique and how much is therapy is a matter of debate, but the product on-screen speaks for itself. I’m going to join the chorus of film critics demanding a Best Actor win for this performance.
Marissa Tomei, however, deserves any awards and accolades that come her way as well. In many ways, Cassidy is Ram’s female counterpart. Neither are in careers that reward seniority, and both are no stranger to pain. She serves as both a comrade and a foil, and is more than up to the task of matching Rourke’s performance. Evan Rachel Wood is largely limited by the size of her role, but she too manages to produce a strong performance, albeit not as dynamic a performance as Rourke or Tomei’s.
The overall style of the movie is somewhat hit-or-miss though. It’s shot almost entirely handheld, documentary style, and looks very low-concept. It bears a strong resemblence to the 1999 pro wrestling documentary Beyond The Mat. While this greatly enhances the effectiveness of the cast and Clint Mansell’s guitar-driven score, it’s minimalism and realism doesn’t always play out quite right. Some cuts and edits feel awkward, and while the background characters add a lot of colour, it feels as though there’s some distinction from the written dialogue and improvised lines, whether that’s the case or not.
But it’s fundamentally a character study, and it’s a fascinating study of someone who put everything on the line until there was nothing left. While it’s not a perfect film, it’s strengths simply can’t be dismissed, and that makes it’s weaknesses pretty easy to overlook.
Verdict: B+