Saturday Night At The Movies


Greetings from Asbury Park

By Dennis Hartley


















I witnessed something quite extraordinary toward the end of last Sunday’s 2008 Golden Globes Awards telecast. It was an anomaly you don’t see very often on television. It was Something Real. Mickey Rourke took to the stage to accept his (well-deserved) statue for his amazing performance in The Wrestler, and proceeded to deliver one of the most heartfelt, gut-wrenching monologues never penned by a screenwriter, and it was completely sans the typically mawkish, faux-sincere Hollywood bullshit one usually hears when an actor gives an acceptance speech. The parallels between Rourke’s real-life rags-to-riches-to-rags-to-redemption story and that of the character he plays in the film (which I had just screened the night before) suddenly hit me like a freight train running through the middle of my head, and I felt a lump in my throat. “Jesus H.,” I kept telling myself, “...it’s only a stupid awards show,” but by the time Rourke proffered “Sometimes when you’re alone…all you got is your dog,” and then thanked all of his pooches (past and present) I was done for. I haven’t cried like that since the first time I saw Old Yeller .

It’s funny. As the lights went down in the theater, I had no clue whatsoever that Bruce Springsteen had penned an original tune for The Wrestler (that song does not appear until the closing credits). Yet, from the first moment Mickey Rourke shambled onscreen as the fading, world-weary wrestler Randy “The Ram” Robinson, I thought to myself, “This guy just walked right out of a Bruce Springsteen song!” I instantly vibed these lyrics:

I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sun
Then dance just like a Casanova

Rourke walks like Brando right into the kliegs and gives the performance of a lifetime in director Darren Aronofsky’s grim and gritty character study (scripted by Robert D. Siegel). When I say “grim and gritty”, I’m not kidding. This film ain’t exactly a day at the beach, or even a quick stroll out on the boardwalk to grab a knish. “The Ram” is a semi-retired, down-on-his-luck pro wrestler, reduced to co-billing at the odd exhibition match or autograph-signing down at the Legion Hall. He lives alone in a trailer park, where he occasionally gets locked out for coming up short on the rent. Still, he remains amiable and gracious; whether he’s playing the “gentle giant” and clowning around with neighborhood kids or offering backstage advice and encouragement to admiring young wrestlers. Nonetheless, his pained, ravaged road map of a face can’t hide an undercurrent of quiet desperation. After a health scare puts the kibosh on plans for a “last shot” career comeback, he comes face-to-face with his mortality. He reaches out to a stripper, with whom he has been hoping to develop a personal relationship (Marisa Tomei, in a wonderful performance). She is quite fond of him, but keeps a professional distance (she doesn’t date “customers”). She encourages him to re-establish a relationship with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood), which may be his toughest match-up yet.

There are really two films here. One is a fascinating, cinema-verite-style backstage glimpse at the world of pro wrestling; the camaraderie, the carefully orchestrated stagecraft, its kitschy cult of personality and the peculiarly devoted fans who fuel it. The irony here is that even though it’s common knowledge that most of the violence is “faked” in this sport, Aronofsky and his technical crew really make you feel Rourke’s “pain” in these fictional matches, particularly when he comes up against a competitor who peppers his upper torso with a staple gun (looked real to me!). The overall realistic feel of these scenes is undoubtedly due to the fact that the cinematographer, Maryse Alberti, has been the DP for a number of documentaries (Gonzo: The Life and Work of Hunter S. Thompson, Taxi To the Dark Side, and most notably, When We Were Kings).

The other “film within the film” is the examination of the rekindling of the estranged father-daughter relationship between Rourke and Wood. I found this part of the story to be more on the garden-variety side; but any clichés inherent in the script are handily overshadowed by the truly outstanding performances. I have to credit Aronofsky for reining in the show-offy camera gimmickry for a change and letting his actors breathe and stretch in this outing; I have been not a fan of his previous work due to his propensity for style over substance. This may be heresy in some circles, but I personally found his junkie-chic drama Requiem for a Dream to be one of the most pretentious, overrated and thoroughly unpleasant films in recent memory; I think I can forgive him now.

I should warn sensitive viewers that you may have some squeamish moments; while Aronofsky has toned his visceral, “in-your-face” tendencies down a notch or two, some of the mayhem portrayed in the wrestling matches is still potentially squirm-inducing (in addition to the aforementioned staple gun shenanigans, there’s some unpleasantness involving barbed wire and broken glass as well). Those caveats aside, I think I would recommend this film to strangers. It really is that good (and I think Mickey would appreciate the support). Then again, you could always save the $10, and just spend a pleasant evening at home with your dog. I think Mickey would be cool with that plan too.

Wrestle mania-The One And Only, All the Marbles, The World According to Garp, Beyond the Mat , My Breakfast With Blassie, Man on the Moon, Vision Quest, Nacho Libre, Women in Love, You Only Live Twice, Sumo East And West, Ed Wood


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