Mickey Rourke's dominant performance highlights "The Wrestler"

Written by Jim Murphy   |   Thursday, December 25 2008

"The Wrestler" and in particular Mickey Rourke's performance in the title role of  Randy "The Ram" Robinson have received critical praise from movie critics and wrestling fans alike.

Anyone who claims to “understand Hollywood” is lying.  That’s always been part of the allure of the film business—particularly in the US—where in the midst of churning out garbage and doing things that are downright boneheaded (uh…a Tom Cruise film about Hitler and Nazis released on Christmas Day?) every now and then they pull something out of thin air that proves to be downright amazing.   Legendary film producer Robert Evans (his autobiographical documentary “The Kid Stays in the Picture” is a must see) speaks this as the big payoff for everyone in the industry who actually loves film and isn’t just collecting a paycheck—in his parlance, it’s the ability to “touch magic”.  Here’s a great Evans quote that addresses this subject:

"I was a bad executive because I was always on the side of the audience - I believe rules are made to be broken. That's the only way you can touch magic, because if you go by the rules, you end up being an accountant.”

In “The Wrestler” Darren Aronofsky does just that—he “touches magic” in one of the most amazing films in recent memory.  That he does so with pro wrestling as a backdrop validates everything that Robert Evans (who produced a couple of “little films” you may have heard of called “The Godfather” and “Chinatown” among many others) says about the necessity of breaking rules to ‘touch magic’. 

To understand the enormity of Aronofsky’s cinematic achievement, it’s important to consider the less than glorious history of pro wrestling in American film.  Perhaps the best film ever made until now with a significant pro wrestling component was 1962’s “Requiem for a Heavyweight”.  Adapted from Rod Serling’s “Playhouse 90” broadcast of the same name “Requiem” starred Anthony Quinn as an aging boxer who is at the end of his career and the end of his rope.  After a final devastating knockout (to a young Muhammad Ali—still Cassius Clay at this point--who plays himself) he turns to the “worked” environment of pro wrestling out of necessity.  The strange moral code of pro wrestling confounds Quinn’s character (“I fought 111 fights and never took a dive") and is at the crux of the film’s dramatic tension.

While “Requiem” is certainly a great film with some excellent performances by Quinn and Jackie Gleason (one of the most underrated actors in Hollywood history) along with a who’s who of prizefighting greats including Ali, Willie Pep, Jack Dempsey and Barney Ross and even an appearance by famed wrestler “Haystacks” Calhoun, it is at its core a boxing film.  Pro wrestling is portrayed as the nadir of an over the hill pugilists decline, which has historical precedent (Joe Louis most notably) but does nothing to explain the phenomenon itself.

With the exception of “Requiem”, the best US films involving professional wrestling were by and/or about the legendary Andy Kaufman.  Kaufman became fascinated with pro wrestling long before celebrity dalliances with it became commonplace in the WWE “sports entertainment” era, and his work as a “heel” in the Memphis based Mid South promotion is downright amazing.  Kaufman had a perfect understanding of “heel psychology” and how to use it to “get over” with the fans despite his lack of athleticism and working ability.  It was the wrestling “kayfabe” culture that first fascinated Kaufman, and as a result he came at the subject from a different place than most celebrities of that era who simply derided it as “fake”.

Kaufman himself produced the hilarious documentary “My Breakfast with Blassie” co-starring wrestling icon Freddie Blassie in 1983.  The film was nominally a parody of “My Dinner With Andre”, a highbrow favorite released in 1991 to universal critical acclaim.  “My Breakfast With Blassie” was just that—Kaufmann having breakfast with Blassie in a Hollywood Denny’s.  It’s a funny film and the interaction between Kaufman and Blassie is priceless, but produced on a negligible budget and intentionally shot to “look cheap” it’s more of a pop culture curio than great film.

Kaufman’s pro wrestling involvement was the subject of a  low budget documentary called “I’m From Hollywood”, which featured some of his Taxi co-stars and comedy peers (Tony Danza, Robin Williams) interspersed with archival footage of his Memphis in-ring work and promos.  Even nearly 20 years later, Kaufman’s almost instinctive ability to “cut a promo” is astounding—it’s a lost art in the WWE era of “scripted promos”.   Kaufman’s life was brought to the screen in a big budget 1999 film directed by Milos Foreman called “Man in the Moon” (the title taken from R.E.M.’s excellent song about Kaufman).  Jim Carrey is amazing as Kaufman—it was his second film in two years where he deserved at least an Academy Award nomination for his performance and didn’t receive one (1998’s “The Truman Show” was the other).  While the film is flat out excellent, the pro wrestling component is a small part of Kaufman’s life and work so it’s difficult to consider it a “pro wrestling” film.

Aside from the above referenced films, pro wrestling has been featured in a lot of other movies—though never well.  There have been a few documentaries of merit (“Beyond the Mat”), some low budget films more interesting for their classic footage than anything else (“I Like To Hurt People”) and a ton of bad movies of varying degrees of unwatchability.  I’ll admit to having a soft spot for “All the Marbles” due to Peter Falk and its portrayal of a bizarro-world sports universe where women’s pro wrestling is a big deal, but that’s the only other wrestling film worthy of specific mention.

Film cognoscenti have had Darren Aronofsky on their “directors of the future” list since “Pi” and “Requiem for a Dream” and he’ll be firmly ensconced on the “A-list” henceforth.  Aronofsky claims that he didn’t grow up a wrestling fan, but was fascinated by its unique subculture both inside the business and among its hardcore fanbase.  He’s wanted to do a film that treated pro wrestling honestly since he graduated from film school, and by all accounts he has succeeded.  He hired Rob Seigel—an editor from “The Onion”—to write the screen play, but his most inspired move was no doubt the casting of Mickey Rourke as the film’s protagonist, Randy “The Ram” Robinson.

Rourke doesn’t just hit the ball out of the park in the role he turns in a performance that will almost certainly take its place among the greats in film history.  Before seeing the film, comparisons that critics were making to Marlon Brando in “On the Waterfront”, Paul Newman in “The Hustler”, and Robert DeNiro in “Raging Bull” seemed somewhat hyperbolic.  After watching Rourke firsthand, such lofty comparisons not only seem appropriate but obvious—his performance leaves the viewer at a loss for superlatives.  For a wrestling fan, it’s even more impressive due to his in-ring work.  With the exception of a couple of extremely high risk spots, Rourke did all of his own wrestling and took all of the bumps himself. 

Aronofsky had a high “degree of difficulty” in creating an honest portrayal of professional wrestling.  On one hand, he had to illustrate the raw and gritty reality of life at the lower levels of the profession.  On the other hand, he had to convey to the audience the appeal of pro wrestling—why men like “The Ram” put themselves through hell to stay involved and why hardcore fans care so much.  Miss the balance in one direction and the result is a film that misses the ability of pro wrestling to “touch magic” in its own way that keeps wrestlers in the ring and fans watching them.  Err in the other direction and you’ve got a film that overly romanticizes a business that is at best tough and unforgiving and at worst barbaric and dehumanizing. 

Perhaps the most amazing thing about “The Wrestler” is how well it succeeds on both levels, which likely accounts for the effusive praise it has garnered from film geeks who wouldn’t know a headlock from a padlock as well as pro wrestling enthusiasts.  Maybe the highest praise has come from pro wrestlers themselves—Mick Foley (aka “Mankind” and “Cactus Jack”) had a few minor quibbles, but enthusiastically praised “The Wrestler” and Rourke’s performance in particular:

I was hooked within a minute. Within five, I had completely forgotten I was looking at Mickey Rourke. That guy on the screen simply was Randy "the Ram" Robinson, a '80s mat icon on a two-decade-long losing streak in the game of life, searching for a way, any way, to fan the dying embers of his career. Rourke somehow makes the pathetic seem heroic and imbues in this sad, broken man a sense of quiet dignity and deep-down decency that makes the prospect of not rooting for him—in both his life and the ring—impossible. (What WWE champion Mick Foley thought of “The Wrestler” @ Slate.com)

That’s what makes Rourke’s performance so amazing and “The Wrestler” such a great film—it simultaneously depicts pro wrestling at its best and worst and gets them both right.  We understand how the business can chew people up and spit them out, but also its appeal and why Rourke’s character keeps getting back in the ring despite all of the risks and challenges it has created in his life.  Aronofsky and Rourke manage to convey the lure and revulsion that is unique to pro wrestling and simultaneously extrapolate them to much larger truths about human existence. 

While almost everyone who sees the film has praised it, what is most interesting is the divergent interpretations that it inspires.  Some find nothing but tragedy in “The Ram”, while others see his experiences as the ultimate life affirmation and others some degree of each.  The film doesn’t try to “spoonfeed” its audience a “message” or “moral”—like much great art it provokes thought and analysis.  Ultimately, the meaning that viewers derive from “The Wrester” is more reflective of their outlook on life in general than any inherent appreciation, dislike or obliviousness to professional wrestling.  It manages to address a number of profound themes of humanity on the most unlikely of stages.

In other words, don’t miss “The Wrestler”—Rourke’s performance is downright iconic and it’s easily the best picture of the year.  Its playing now in 'select cities' and opens everywhere on January 16, 2009.  Here's the film trailer:

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