I was pretty ready to skip this movie, despite all the hype over Mickey Rourke’s performance. For one, I was never a huge fan of Rourke’s…he was always so creepy. Secondly, the sight of his—the only word I can think of is melting—face in the previews freaked me out. I didn’t think I could spend two hours in its company.
But I sat next to Dana Stevens, film critic for Slate, at a meeting the other day, and she said she really liked the movie. And I trust Dana’s taste. (Check out her top ten of 2008 list.) So I went.
I am so glad I didn’t miss this one. It’s an incredible movie. The Wrestler chronicles the last gasps of Randy the Ram’s career as he wrangles with disability, mortality, success and what it all means.
Rourke, as Randy, is every bit as grotesque as I feared when I watched the previews. Long, straggly bleach blonde hair. Too tan. Overly muscled. Ravaged by abuse and age and steroids. If you made an itemized list of what you, the average viewer, had in common with this man, you’d come up with zero. In fact, it’s almost enough to make you skip the movie, right?
And yet…the movie, Rourke, utterly sucked me in and made me not only care about this hulking wreck, but root for him, and, in a few spots, identify with him, spangly tights and all. I’m not sure how Rourke does it. Maybe it’s the antithetical little details--the sight of that long hair pulled up in a messy, girly bun. (My first thought: “Hey, Randy and I are wearing our hair the same way!”) Maybe it’s the delicate little granny glasses Rourke perches on his nose in order to read the instructions on his prescription bottles.
All these tiny character details build to create a portrait of a f*cked up (to use Randy’s daughter’s words), but sweet and kind man, who wants to be loved and to love, but never quite figured out how it all worked outside the ring. In the end, here’s a guy trying to take stock of his life, trying to make his time here matter, trying to connect. Which left me with the thought—oh yeah, me too. It’s a hell of a self portrait.
But I sat next to Dana Stevens, film critic for Slate, at a meeting the other day, and she said she really liked the movie. And I trust Dana’s taste. (Check out her top ten of 2008 list.) So I went.
I am so glad I didn’t miss this one. It’s an incredible movie. The Wrestler chronicles the last gasps of Randy the Ram’s career as he wrangles with disability, mortality, success and what it all means.
Rourke, as Randy, is every bit as grotesque as I feared when I watched the previews. Long, straggly bleach blonde hair. Too tan. Overly muscled. Ravaged by abuse and age and steroids. If you made an itemized list of what you, the average viewer, had in common with this man, you’d come up with zero. In fact, it’s almost enough to make you skip the movie, right?
And yet…the movie, Rourke, utterly sucked me in and made me not only care about this hulking wreck, but root for him, and, in a few spots, identify with him, spangly tights and all. I’m not sure how Rourke does it. Maybe it’s the antithetical little details--the sight of that long hair pulled up in a messy, girly bun. (My first thought: “Hey, Randy and I are wearing our hair the same way!”) Maybe it’s the delicate little granny glasses Rourke perches on his nose in order to read the instructions on his prescription bottles.
All these tiny character details build to create a portrait of a f*cked up (to use Randy’s daughter’s words), but sweet and kind man, who wants to be loved and to love, but never quite figured out how it all worked outside the ring. In the end, here’s a guy trying to take stock of his life, trying to make his time here matter, trying to connect. Which left me with the thought—oh yeah, me too. It’s a hell of a self portrait.
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6 comments:
Agree, agree, agree. Spectacular movie. Great attention to detail. Great finish. And on and on...
Makes me want to revisit his earlier work. I found an excerpt of Rourke in Body Heat on Youtube, and I was reminded how good he was in that small role.
We're all fragile, none of us wants to be hated, and when our families are a mess, or disrupted, or we've lost someone, we find family wherever we can. Like Randy the Ram.
I have many of the same reservations about this movie...but I'll see it based on your review, and based on Marissa Tomei's participation. Does this woman ever pick a bad movie?...or, for that matter, a role that wouldn't scare the hell out of a lesser talent?
Mike in Austin
Re: Marisa Tomei...she's pretty amazing. She's fearless. Saw her in Before The Devil Knows You're Dead most recently and thought, re: the first scene, good lord....is there anything this woman won't do? (Ditto: Phillip Seymor Hoffman). I said to Paul, after the movie, I have now seen more of Marisa Tomei than I've seen of most women...if that gives you any indication of her committment to this role...She's very interesting.
Now that I think about it, Julie and I saw Devil Know's Your Dead as well, with a similar reaction to the first scene. It also occured to me that she's been in other uncomfortably intimate scenes in at least one other movie I've seen - though right now I can't think of the other title(s). Yes, she's a great talent - but those scenes were NOT what I had in mind, at least not specifically. Along this vein, her role in My Cousin Vinny wasn't prominant in my high opinion of her either - though I can't say I didn't think she was very good in that too. Anyway, I don't think I'm helping my argument much, so I'll stop here - hopefully before my wife decides to punch me in the arm.
Mike in Austin
and can i add that that was WAY more than i wanted to see of philip seymour hoffman? i agree re: my cousin vinny. good, but the movie didn't...move me. now i'm going to have to think what other movies i've seen of hers that left me thinking, good god....hope julie didn't punch you too hard.....
I did not punch him TOO hard!
Now I have to say...eeeewww, eeewwww, eeewwww, way too much of PSH!!!!I prefer not to see him in any state of undress.
Coming Soon: Tirade on hated movies! Stay tuned!
-Julie
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