The Wrestler

How's about we start with a little context? I finally saw The Wrestler this last week, about a year after it was released. As soon as it hit the London Public Library stacks, I booked my hold, forgot to pick it up the first time, and waited for another 3 months before it finally came in.

I cannot begin to remember how many times I have heard people (which is to say nameless internet people) talk about this movie. Whether it was about the "resurrection" of an actor I was only thinly aware of from his role in Sin City or the coverage the movie got on wrestling fan-sites, I had some high hopes going into this movie. After watching it, I'm still cessing out exactly how I feel about it.

One of the enormous triumphs of the movie is its ability to personalize the experience of professional wrestling. As an on-and-off watcher of "sports entertainment," I often fancied myself to be an in-the-know fan (or smark), whose limited knowledge of the behind-the-scenes workings of professional wrestling somehow elevated me above the casual fan. The Wrestler humbled me with its deeply personal account of a life in the "sport." Unlike most "exclusive" coverage (like WWE-issued DVD documentaries), the story is told without any censorship for the sake of protecting the industry or any one company. By having the camera in the ring for Randy's matches, there is an intimacy that would be impossible to replicate in a product meant for television consumption. When the exaggeration and showmanship are exposed for what they are, the story of the match is more about what these human being are willing to do to their bodies for the sake of eliciting a reaction from the crowd.

And that is a big part of what this story is about. Randy "The Ram" Robinson, has been living in the world of professional wrestling long enough that he has become a different person. He is no longer Robin Ramsinski (his birth name), but he's also aware enough of himself to know that he is also not the character he portrays "The Ram." Instead, the person he identifies most with is the one between reality and the ring. Amongst other wrestlers, and to hardcore fans, he is the real deal. He is an established veteran of the industry, whose is revered in every small town he visits. He makes sure to surround himself with people small enough, or respectful enough, to continue to give him the credit he believes he is due.

When a heart attack, induced by years of self-abuse (both physical and drug-related), as well as a particularly brutal "hardcore" match, ends his career, Randy tries his hand at living outside of the world of wrestling. He cancels all of his future engagements, and takes on a full-time job at the deli counter at the supermarket where he had been lugging boxes to sponsor his weekend wrestling hobby/career. There, he thrives, as a personable tender to the supermarket masses. We feel good that he's able to make the transition, keeping his passion for entertainment going, even in his 9-5 job. The feeling doesn't last, though, as his fun behind the counter is contingent on his anonymity. It was inevitable that someone realize who he was, sooner or later, but when it finally happens, no one could be ready for Randy's reaction.

Inspired by the loneliness, Randy also seeks companionship from two women. The first is Cassidy, a stripper, whose forty-something years are making it harder and harder to entice anyone into the VIP room. After taking a bit of verbal abuse from some younger guys in the club, Randy steps in, trying to teach them a lesson. At first, Cassidy seems to see Randy with the same pity we do. Even worse is the realization that this washed-up, deluded wrestler is the best chance she's got at a relationship. As they spend time together, Cassidy grows to realize that despite how Randy sees himself, she feels comforted by his living a time that she is just as nostalgic for. By the end, after resisting Randy's advances, she acknowledges their mutual attraction (and lack of other options) and decides to move forward into an adult relationship. By that point, however, Randy has failed in his attempts to be compatible with the outside world.

Then there's Randy's daughter, Stephanie. She acts as the embodiment of all of Randy's poor choices. She's the daughter he wasn't there to watch grow up, and she exposes the worst parts of himself. Faced with a life without wrestling, he tries to reconnect with her and amend the mistakes of his past. At first, she resists, but Randy, assured by his love for her, continues to try, with the two eventually sharing a bonding afternoon walk. There, Randy takes a painful but incredibly insightful look at himself, where he shoulders all of the blame for their lack of relationship, absolving her of any fault. After a trip to the matches, and partying with the "boys" afterward, Randy misses a dinner date with Stephanie, who blasts him with decades of scorn, and a vow to never care about him again.

Failing to fix his relationships, and being unable to let go of the glory of who he was, Randy decides to return to what he knows best. He's aware of the falsity of the life he has led, but the artifice and inconstant sincerity of the wrestling fans is more familiar, and less painful than a life away from it. Despite the doctor's warning that he should never wrestle again, The Ram suits up one more time, to take on his old wrestling nemesis, The Ayatollah. The Ayatollah is everything that Randy couldn't be. He's now a used car salesman who is doing the match for fun and for the money. Rather than plan out the spots of the match with Randy, he's working on selling a car to one of the crewmember for the match. Once Randy gets in the ring, and gets on the microphone, in order to address the crowd, the Randy we've been watching through the movie disappears into his wrestling persona. There, in his blood-stained security blanket, the world can't touch him, and he is king.

Rating: 3.5 stars