Chicago International Film Fest 2008 - Night 2, The Wrestler

Night 2 at the Chicago International Film Festival had me seeing Darren Aronofsky’s The Wrestler, starring Mickey Rourke. Aronofsky himself was scheduled to appear to give us a question & answer session afterwards. Good stuff! I’m one of those people that loved The Fountain. There’s at least seven or eight of us, has to be.

Showed up at the theater to see the much-talked-about flick an hour in advance and was greeted by a line of about 200 people bursting to get in. Before we got in line, my brother Jude said “right, I’m off to get a sandwich, I’ll be back”. So he goes off on his snack search and I dutifully wait in line, holding the tickets tight in my pocket. I didn’t want to give the sad bastards plodding around with “I NEED WRESTLER TICKETS” any ideas. Next time I’m making Jude wait in line, though.

I parked myself close enough to the screen to matter during the expected q&a but far enough to enjoy the film, and made a mad dash to the jacks before the film started. In the hallways I met Alex, one of the PAs I worked with on a film earlier this year. He told me he was there with Chad, another fella from the same production - I knew this film would attract a good crowd. I also see CIFF founder and artistic director Michael Kutza (judging by the news articles, I swear “founder and artistic director” is his first name now) hanging out on a bench.

ME: “‘Scuse me sir, are you Michael Kutza?”
HIM: “Uh… (smiles) depends who’s asking.”
ME: “Just wanted to say you put on a hell of a show last night, thanks.”
HIM: “Oh. In that case yes, I sure am.”

It’s nice when people don’t turn out to be horrible. Anyway, onto the film.

The film’s not out until December and yet there’s already a ton of blogs, articles, message board wankery and speculation written about it. People mention Oscar rumors for Rourke as if the quality of his performance is somehow out of the blue. It seems clever and amusing to them that Mickey Rourke is playing a burnt-out shell of a man trying to claw his way back to the level of appreciation he had in the 1980s. I don’t rate that at all. Can you honestly think of a time when Rourke turned in a rotten performance? The man has more than talent and character. He has grace. And that’s just what he brings to The Wrestler.

Darren Aronofsky (really?) directs Rourke in a sad story about Randy “The Ram”, a wrestler who was on top of the world in the 80’s, but now trades on past glories, working his weekends at low-level wrestling shows in elementary school gyms and community centers. The other wrestlers - all younger guys who no doubt grew up idolizing “The Ram” - treat Randy with the utmost respect and adulation. The crowd (if it could be large enough to be called a “crowd”) loves him. He’s still a king in the ring. But outside, the hearing aid comes on and Randy goes home to a squalid existence in a New Jersey trailer park. He’s no-one, and has no-one.

The ever-harder and bloodier matches, coupled with the years of painkillers and ‘roids, eventually get the better of the big guy and he has a heart attack. Unable to wrestle, he has to confront the fact that he no longer has anyone to cheer him on. Time to see if the stripper with a heart of gold (Marisa Tomei) and his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) want to give him the time of day.

Hmm. Watching The Wrestler it became increasingly apparent that we’ve seen all this before. The former great, living in the past and so sure he can fix his personal and professional life, is a role we’ve seen played out on screen time and time again. Rob Siegel’s script feels like it’s sticking close to formula; of course it’s not going to be that easy to patch it up with the daughter, of course he can’t reclaim his past greatness, of course there’s a big match at the end that could make or break him. Everyone, from Tomei’s stripper with big plans to get out of that dive, that city, that life to Randy’s petty dictator boss at his supermarket day job, feels like a stock character out of sundry other movies. But not necessarily better ones. The story may follow a familiar path, but this is no Disney inspirational-sports-film-of-the-year. It’s a tragic, wincing tale that won’t warm your heart as much as give you a sick, cold feeling in your gut. All the actors are bringing their A game to the match, none more than Rourke, who bears the film on his back.

And it’s a back you’ll see often; Aronosky follows our lumbering hero from behind - a lot - showcasing Randy’s hulking gait as he prepares for a challenge, whether it be a wrestling match or dealing with the indignity of working a deli counter. It’s moments like these that remind us whose film we’re watching. Remember Aronofsky’s past flicks, with hundreds of loopy visual touches, jackhammer edits and cinematographic effects? Well there’s none of that here. The Wrestler looks like it was shot by a doc crew, with tons of grain, naturalistic lighting and handheld shots. If it weren’t for Aronofsky’s name in the Quiet Riot-scored opening credits you’d never know. It’s a good fit, though. The grimy images reflect Randy’s existence, from his moth-eaten flannel jacket to his rust-ridden van.

I wonder though, would this film be half the movie it is without Rourke. Aronofsky may have directed the film, but Rourke owns every second he’s on screen. He’s magnificent, showing us how much the physique and bleached hair facade masks the turmoil underneath, enduring cruel and unusual punishment because it’s the only thing he knows how to do. While the look of him might make the nostalgic fan remember The Ultimate Warrior, Bret Hart or Brutus “The Barber” Beefcake (what? I watched wrestling when I was a kid, eat me), Rourke’s presence feels more tangible than they ever were. He draws you in to every bit of pain he feels, whether it be staples and shards in his back, or the shame of unfixable regret.
Forget the Oscar rumors. Mickey Rourke needs to start making Oscar plans.

“The Ram” may be a loser, but The Wrestler is a winner, and Mickey Rourke is this year’s champion.

Immediately following the show was the Q&A between Darren Aronofsky and some guy I’ve never heard of. He writes for Time Out Chicago but I really can’t remember his name or anything he said (that’s not a slight against our esteemed moderator or anything). Aronofsky, however, was agreeable and indulged his fans, opening up the conversation to the crowd. My friend Chad got the first question off. I really hope someone got him on camera, his afro’s amazing and deserves an audience, but I hope they didn’t catch my embarrassing “Hi Chad”.

I asked the genial director about how the film seemed to skirt around naming any famous wrestlers or the WWE, and whether or not that was indicative of opposition from the world of professional wrestling. Darren said that he went into it knowing he’d never have the support of something like the WWE, due to showcasing the story of a forgotten, broken-down wrestler with nothing like a pension or health insurance - something he, Mickey and writer Robert Siegel saw all too often when researching the film. He then smiled and pointed out that recently, Vince McMahon gave him a call and now he’s behind the film.
Golden Lions at Venice seem to get people interested, it would seem.

I wish I hadn’t asked that, because it seemed to open it up to questions from testy wrestling fans. One such winner blurted something at Aronofsky, and the director asserted “a wrestling fan would like me to make clear that there is a difference between what is depicted in the film and actual wrestling events…” That’s paraphrasing, I can’t remember all the acronym wrestling organizations that Aronofsky said, or the ones that the ardent fan felt the need to correct him on.

Darren went into a fair bit of detail about directing the not-always-malleable Rourke, who himself worked hard to create the role, for instance introducing the hearing aid idea (”he wanted two, I agreed to one”). With a strange smile, he recounted meeting Mickey (and his chihuahua) and the odder moments of working with him (”he’s been in therapy for twelve years and oh, he’ll tell you all about it”). Questions about the change in visual and audio style yielded interesting answers - Aronofsky did, in fact, get a doc crew to follow Rourke around from the back, Clint Mansell had Slash perform the mellow guitars for the score amid the constant hair-band soundtrack - but the best answers were his short ones. Forgive me if the quotes aren’t exact, but there was one plucky chap getting a cellphone video up in front so hopefully it’ll be up on youtube at some stage.

GUY IN CROWD: “What’s your favourite movie and why?”
DARREN ARONOFSKY: (smiles) “Next question”.

GIC: “Is this visual style something we expect to see in The Fighter?”
DA: “What’s The Fighter? I don’t know anything about the film. Don’t read the internet! When The Fighter comes it’ll be a surprise. Like The Wrestler, did any of you see that coming?”

GIC: “What actor do you really want to work with?”
DA: “Right there with the favourite film question. Seriously, those would need really long answers”

GIC: “Why did you originally cast Nicolas Cage for The Wrestler?”
DA: “Again, STOP READING THE INTERNET! NONE OF WHAT YOU READ IS TRUE! Someone writes something on the internet, then someone writes about what someone wrote on the internet… It’s always been Mickey’s movie.”

GIC: “Was it the New Jersey setting that got Bruce Springsteen to do the song at the end?”
DA: “No, that was all Mickey. Apparently the Boss is a big fan, Mickey called him up and Springsteen contacted me, he said I seemed serious (laughs) and he wanted to do this thing for Mickey to help him get his shot.”

All in all he was very gracious, answering the questions while sidestepping anything too clarifying (nothing about the Mark Wahlberg frustration over The Fighter, no mention of the Robocop or Noah’s Ark updates). Good man.
And, realizing my error from the night before, I asked for a photo and the guy was cool enough to pose for a pic with me. Thnaks to Chad for snapping the pic, albeit with my janky cellphone.

A lot’s going to made about Mickey Rourke in the next few months, I hope that doesn’t mean Darren Aronofsky gets ignored.

- D

Oh, by the way, Rachel Weisz wasn’t there. Denied.

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