Darren Aronofsky
The Wrestler

Sometimes cinema manages to surprise us. Sometimes just watching a film can move us or make us feel an emotion so strong and profound that it seems impossible it comes from a few meters of film. Yet, cinema, just like life, is made up of small, great stories.

"The Wrestler" is essentially a small film.

Small is the budget with which it was produced, small are the ambitions with which it was conceived, and small above all is the commercial success it had, so much so that it could almost be defined as an art house or independent film.

Directed by a director seeking redemption like Darren Aronofsky, who came from the colossal failure of "The Fountain", and interpreted by an actor on the decline like Mickey Rourke, the film started under the harshest collective prejudices.

The Wrestler was practically a film "doomed" even before being presented at the 2008 Venice Festival.

However, the film turned out to be an enormous success, even winning the Golden Lion at the aforementioned event, and never, as in this case, has the term heartfelt prize been more appropriate.

The heart is also one of the protagonists of the film. Randy "The Ram" Robinson has a failing one, a famous wrestling champion at the peak of success in the 80s, who now finds himself having to face "B-series" matches to get by a little. It is precisely a sudden heart attack that forces Randy to step away from the ring, to avoid complications, but his life is there, where the crowd can praise him, can dream with him, and can have fun. Because wrestling is all here. Fun, pure fun.

Outside the ring, Randy's life is not exactly a success. He lives alone in a trailer, does a job that does not satisfy him to make ends meet, and has a terrible relationship with the only person he has a familial connection with: his daughter, who doesn't forgive him for his past as a bad father.

It is the story of a loser seeking redemption. But the only redemption Randy can achieve is by fighting. Sweating. Losing liters of blood. Slamming into chairs and benches. In one word, Living. Against the advice of doctors and Cassidy, a stripper for whom Randy has strong feelings, the old champion decides to risk it all, to feel alive, fulfilled, and at peace with himself. The revenge of the loser. A theme often addressed in cinema. Just think of the most famous loser. Rocky. Or to return to our days, Million Dollar Baby, from which the film seems to pay tribute more. "The Wrestler" fits perfectly in line with these great stories, made of real people, with real ideals, and with real risks to face. In an increasingly false and rhetorical cinema (The Millionaire), the 115 minutes of the film are a real cure-all.

Never before has the actor-role relationship been so closely linked. Mickey Rourke, a major star at the end of the 80s, decided at the peak of success to pursue his true passion: boxing. A career that didn't bring him any defeat in the ring but many frogs to swallow in life. He had to undergo several cosmetic surgeries, and Hollywood, which has never loved rebels and nonconformists (or off-Hollywood), abandoned him and relegated him to low-profile productions. But true talent eventually pays off. Like Randy, Mickey first gets noticed (and appreciated) in supporting roles such as The Pledge, Domino, and Sin City, then seizes the opportunity to return to greatness, to return to being a true actor.

His intense and melancholic performance is the winning key of such a heartfelt film.

But it's certainly not the only asset in its bow. Aronofsky, for once, avoids his directorial quirks, focusing like any good storyteller (Eastwood and Altman docet) on the story and characters, without excessive directorial personalism. In the end, his invisible direction works. Just like the supporting cast works, among which the two women of the film, Marisa Tomei and Evan Rachel Wood, stand out. For Tomei (never so beautiful as in this film), a second Oscar nomination is coming, while Wood, the future protagonist of Woody Allen's new work, confirms her strong talent in dramatic roles. Another great pleasant surprise is the soundtrack. Composed of predominantly Hard Rock-Heavy Metal tracks, it perfectly matches Randy's musical tastes, such as "Sweet Child O'Mine" by Guns N' Roses or "Metal Health" by Quiet Riot. There’s also a small gem by the Boss Springsteen, a song that will earn him a Golden Globe.

The hope in such a difficult and harsh world is that Randy's story or, if you will, Mickey's, serves as an example for fighting for what you dream of, for learning to stand up on your own feet, and to remain a bit of a child, perhaps fighting in wrestling or playing with a Nintendo.