It was movie night and hubby and I certainly had our choice of the lot – well with not getting out much and then the Oscars looming, there was lots to choose from. We settled on The Wrestler, partly because of curiosity – I hadn’t seen Mickey Rourke in anything since 9 ½ weeks (I told you I don’t get out much!!)- and partly because the timeslot fit – it was neither too early nor too late. The choice thrilled my husband only because he was expecting something else.
The movie was, at times, difficult to watch. Rourke was his Oscar-worthy best - a ragged, aging wrestling star, with his time in the spotlight up but his alternatives grim. His physicality was striking – he was a meaty, bleached blond, SuperTan mess. How he got here would be vague back story, but how he’d now survive was of main concern. Of course, it was impossible to watch the movie without considering the parallels to Rourke’s own infamous personal life: drugs, boxing and irresponsibility all destroying a promising movie career. For that reason, it is inconceivable to imagine anyone else playing the role of Randy "The Ram" Robinson. The movie was all Rourke, stripped entirely of fancy Hollywood-esque accessories. That fact kept it from spiraling into clichés which it certainly had the potential to do - a washed up star and a stripper with a heart of gold – how old is that?! Yes, it could have been a lot less but with the camera fixated on Rourke’s beaten frame, his scarred face and broken eyes, it was hard not to let your heart break.
He reminded me of someone I knew back in my teens – a hotshot tennis player with a fiery game and tons of athletic potential. There were comparisons to Andre Aggasi and everyone predicted fame and fortune. I had a massive crush on him – his rebellious streak being the most attractive feature, although he was also very handsome. I was absolutely convinced he’d get everything he ever wanted in life. But over time it would all unravel – he had neither the maturity nor the role models to keep him on course – and he got into the worst of it – skipping school (a $40,000/year scholarship no less), endless parties, drugs, a bad crowd – all this combined to destroy him. It was sad. I’ve asked about him now and then – and I always hear the same thing - still doing drugs, still dealing them, just trying to get by. His is a life on the edge, just like Rudy the Ram. The parallels are all there. That is what’s so striking about Rourke’s performance – not only is it a corollary of his own life, but it’s also the biography of someone we all once knew, once admired, perhaps loved. To hear of their fall from greatness seems a cruel play on the past. We want to remember them well but the story doesn’t unfold to our liking, only tarnishes our memories black.
Life is not to be taken for granted. It offers up its’ fruits, yes, but they are perishable joys and they will not bear their sweetness if taken too early; they will rot and spoil if held for too long. It’s a life those of “greatness past” fumble through to finally understand; but the lessons are hard. Most of us have neither the courage nor the inclination to test the extremes, but movies like The Wrestler allow us to step in, ever so briefly, to see for ourselves how life can so easily unravel.
