Day 109: The Wrestler

"The only one that's going to tell me when I'm through doing my thing is you people here."

I’m not afraid to admit it. I was at one point a wrestling fan. Every Monday I’d come home from school and anxiously await for “Monday Night Raw” to flood my living room with the sound of body slams and feuds boiling. My mom never quite got the appeal of it as she constantly reminded me that it was fake. I knew it was fake, but that aspect never mattered to me. I was always able to get swept up into the action. Perhaps it was the melodrama, or the larger than life personalities. But, I think what got me so invested was a wrestler’s ability to put their body in harms way in order to give the crowd a pop. Sure, they may have been bulky men trying to fit into a speedo, but the grace and maneuvering they administered in the ring is reminiscent of the work of ballerinas. Their dedication and sacrifice is unmatched as they live on the road, hoping to feel the roar of the crowd via acts of mutilation.  Representing this commitment is Randy 'The Ram' Robinson, the main character from the underappreciated film The Wrestler.

Randy is a middle aged man whose whole life has been devoted to the craft that continuously disassembles his physique. At one point he was the premiere wrestler. Now he sits in a trailer with little cash flow, and his past glory rolling through his head. But it’s that shot at glory that forces him to keep wrestling on the independent circuit. With each match he has in a gym, Randy hopes the risks he takes will recapture a distinction he hasn’t had for over a decade. But this path to rapture has stifled Randy’s personal life. Most notably his relationship with his daughter Stephanie(Evan Rachel Wood) has been unfulfilling. Through the years he’s thrown her unconditional love to the wayside in favor of fan fare. He continuously makes promises to improve, but his poisonous decision making is cyclical. At times he is often alone because of this. Thankfully for Randy, he befriends a stripper by the name of Cassidy (Marissa Tomei). Initially their interest in one another is platonic, but it develops into a deeper bond as both are going through the same epiphany: their bodies are betraying them. In the case of Randy, his body can no longer hold up to the physical nature of his passion, where as Cassidy is getting too old to be considered sexually attractive to the men who frivolously throw money at her body. I imagine it’s a horrible  feeling to know that one’s body is closing the door on their only asset.

Although there are more in-depth talking points to Randy’s relationships, the film bears its soul on the study of Randy himself, who is miraculously played by Mickey Rourke. Rourke, who is essentially making a comeback with this role, has seen his career face a similar trajectory as Randy. Thus it should come as no surprise that Rourke easily slips into the tattered skin that envelops Randy’s bones. For every chair shot that has drawn blood and for every broken bone that Randy has suffered in his wrestling career, we have no doubt that Rourke has felt that pain as well. Not to mention, Rourke, who trained extensively for the role, is actually taking the big falls in his matches. By actually stepping into the ring, Rourke daringly gives the film a sense of authenticity that makes the experience far more palpable. Assisting Rourke is Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood. Both represent the many opportunities that Randy has squandered. Although they’re strong, individualistic women, their ability to expose the empty hold Randy has on them is tremendously heart wrenching.

The desolation and sacrifice found in the characters are magnified by the direction of Darren Aronofsky. Aronofsky, whose previous films are highly stylistic, takes a minimalistic approach that heightens the barren landscapes that Randy finds himself in. Using what appears to be a digital camera, Aronofsky gives the film a gritty feel that matches the personal hell that Randy has been forming for years. Not to mention, Aronofsky’s respect for the wrestling world is well demonstrated. In the ‘back stage’ scenes, Aronofsky adds a sense of intimacy and camaraderie that contradicts the gladiator mentality wrestlers often carry like burdens. But, I must reiterate, this film belongs wholly to Mickey Rourke, who despite all of Randy’s afflictions, installs a sense of tenderness in the film that ultimately makes his character redeemable. And it is through Rourke’s unbelievable rendering of Randy that we get an understanding as to why grown men spend their lives on the road and accumulate a wealth of pain. They do it all for that one moment where the bellow of the crowd reinvigorates their shattered frames.