The Wrestler

Drew Dahle's Thoughts:
(Warning: I reveal some plot points, in case someone hasn't seen this yet)
Darren Aronofsky changes up his style yet again with The Wrestler, following up his transcendent, grandiose sci-fi picture The Fountain with another gritty film, but minus the stylization of his masterpiece (thus far) Requiem for a Dream.
There are three stars of this film in my opinion, Aronfsky's direction, Bruce Springsteen's plaintive, soulful title song and, probably the most important, Mickey Rourke. Rourke gives a sensational, lived-in performance. His performance feels effortless, in a way that even though you can recognize Mickey Rourke, you are watching The Ram--there is no distinction between the two. He conveys so much with one glance. The tale is a simple character study of a man coping with being past his prime but the film runs much deeper than that.
From the little bit we get of his past, it seems that Randy "The Ram" Robinson has been a wrestler for as long as he cares to remember. I'm sure it was a long 20 years as Randy aged and fell from popularity, performing in increasingly smaller arenas (read: rec centers.) Though, he's no longer a star, The Ram is still doing the one thing he knows, and the source of his identity: professional wrestling. We learn that Randy was born Robin Randzinski which he can’t stand to be called. Robin is not his identity. He is The Ram. Randy has an unwavering dedication to wrestling that goes beyond just a love of wrestling; wrestling is something he needs. When the audience meets Randy, his body is at its breaking point and when a doctor tells him that in his condition wrestling is not a good idea, Randy pleads "but I'm a professional wrestler!"
Initially taking the advice, he tries to take on a more normal life. His job at a grocery store, formerly part time to supplement the meager income his career (wrestling) produces, becomes full time. Lonely and without wrestling to put his energy into, he courts a stripper (Marisa Tomei) at a local club who suggests he patch things up with his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood). His commitment to wrestling earlier in his life left no room to be a good boyfriend/husband and especially a good father. Despite his good intentions, he is not a good father and doesn't know how to be one and he knows this. Randy is a generally warm, kind person but judging by his interactions with the kids in his trailer park (playing video games, gentle play wrestling) he is more suited to be that fun uncle you see occasionally rather than a parent. In a moving scene, Randy confesses to his daughter "I'm a broken down piece of meat, and I deserve to be all alone." It's true; Randy knows it, his daughter knows it, the audience knows it. Even though it's his fault there's a tragedy about it. He's not a bad guy, I don't want him to be all alone but Randy accepts that it is the way it should be, just as the audience has to accept it.
Even though the script, by Robert D. Siegel (first time screenwriter and former editor of The Onion), is pretty formulaic it redeems that characteristic by feeling authentic. The protagonist does not get the girl, does not reunite with his daughter, and he does not make some triumphant Rocky Balboa-type comeback, in spite of his failing body. He comes to terms with his situation and with his life; he is a wrestler and if he can't be a wrestler he won't be anything else. This authenticity is imbued by Rourke but also by Aronofsky's sure handed direction. I appreciate the way Aronofsky approached the subject of wrestling. He doesn't ridicule it and he doesn't glorify it but he has enough respect for his subject to show it how it is. We see the brotherly affection between wrestlers who are arch-nemeses in the ring. We see veterans mentoring younger wrestlers, and a number of times we see the process in which they choreograph their fights. We also see the steroids that are used to keep aging bodies big and strong. We see the battered bodies after the match and the physical cost of the profession. Aronofsky, never known for shying away from his subject matter, creates a few intense, well-done sequences where we see that even though the animosity is fake and the victory is fake--the blood is still real. Shot by Maryse Alberti (Gonzo) who creates a very real, documentary-style feel to the film, Aronofsky uses Alberti's handheld camera to follow Rourke constantly, creating the sensation of him entering the ring even when he's entering the deli counter. This reaffirms visually that whatever venue he's in, he's a wrestler.
During the end credits Bruce Springsteen’s title song plays and it really encapsulates the spirit of the film. On any given year I bitch about the existence of a best song category and how there’s no reason to award a song at a ceremony designed to award excellence in film making, it’s just a marketing ploy and blah blah blah. Not so this year, provided Springsteen wins (he better; EDIT: the Academy Award Best Song category is just as much a worthless piece of shit this year as it ever was). The song is a perfect elegy to The Ram. And even though it doesn’t make its appearance until the credits, its effect on the film is meaningful and palpable.
The Ram is a tragic character but not a pitiful one. Despite our hope for better things for Randy, his singular commitment to being a wrestler is staggering and in a strange way admirable, even if it comes at the cost of turning away what would nurture him. The film is a fantastic and thorough examination of the complexities of this particular human being, and how Randy's unrelenting attachment to his identity reassures him while also destroying him.