A fading wrestler, battle scarred by a life of sparring in the ring, swollen-faced and grizzled from the passage of time, looking for a final showdown, a return to fame and thus, the recognition and acceptance of his peers; the parallels between Randy “the Ram” Robinson, the titular character in Darren Aronofsky’s fourth feature (released 1 June by Optimum), and Mickey Rourke are all too clear. In fact, there’s a definite sense that the character was written with Rourke in mind, as it seems implausible that any other actor could even be considered for the role. Sporting a hearing aid and a ratty peroxide mane that cascades over his lumbering, steroid-addled frame, the Ram has always been a favourite with the fans; a loveable all-American bruiser representing the white working classes in a cartoonish world of pantomime villains and racial stereotypes swathed in bulging neon lycra. Despite waning interest, he is still prepared to take a razor to his temple for the sake of his art to create real fake injuries to put on a bloody good show, but in return he finds himself old, alone and penniless. A heart attack forces him to reassess his life; his attempts to build relationships with muttony stripper Pam (Marissa Tomei), who also faces the grim reality that her chosen career has reached it’s sell-by date, and his estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood), who he abandoned as a child, serve to push him further into turmoil. Retirement from wrestling seems set to become an unsettling reality.

Filmed with a docu-drama handheld camera, the style is sparse and stripped of Arnofsky’s usual flashy sentimentality, capturing the gritty, dilapidated settings with a pleasant simplicity. The focus is rarely off Rourke, whether trailing him relentlessly from behind or feasting on the pulped wreckage that is left of his face. Every crunched bone and ragged breath is testament to the punishment he has endured but also a reminder that, at 57, he is fighting on. The Ram is a tremendous character, selfish and self-destructive yet impossible not to like; Rourke gives a disarming slow-voiced gentleness to this imposing monster of a man, making him compellingly raw and emotive. There are some lovely character asides, in particular, the Ram’s enthusiasm matched with a neighbourhood kid’s disdain for his antiquated Nintendo wrestling game, and his chummy green-room run-throughs with wrestling opponents who view him as nothing short of a god. A stint at the deli counter is a good source of humour, demonstrating his natural inclination to put on a show for the punters.

The Ram has devoted his life to the one thing he excels at, and so, he has no complaints, only regrets. The conflict between living in order to survive, and thus denying who you really are, is central to the film. Despite chronicling the pain and misery of a man whose life has fallen dramatically short of his dream, this is not a tragic movie. It’s a celebration of those who aren’t afraid to aim for the stars despite the chance they could fall back down to earth.

Words > Anna Dobbie