As promised, I am back with two more movie reviews, the Oscar-nominated The Wrestler and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, the 1969 Western that popularized “Raindrops are Falling on My Head” (the less said about that, the better). Let’s get going!
The Wrestler (2008)
Director: Darren Aronofsky
Principle Actors: Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood
The Wrestler is a film about pathetic people. Its protagonist, Randy “The Ram” Robinson, is a washed up professional wrestler who once wrestled in front of packed houses at Madison Square Garden. Now he’s sleeping in his beat-up van because he’s been locked out of his trailer for being behind on his rent. Local stripper “Cassidy” (Marisa Tomei) is too old for her profession and endures the pawing and catcalls of local bozos to provide for her young son. Randy’s daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood), is an emotionally unstable twenty-something who has become a lesbian due in large part to Randy’s shaky and often absent fathering, giving her an extremely negative view of man and manhood. Many of the other wrestlers are decrepit shadows who struggle to walk and sign autographs from wheelchairs. The characters in this film are not happy ones.
I was very excited to see The Wrestler. I have always held an affinity for professional wrestling, and followed it closely from my days as a young boy until, gulp, 2007. In the summer of 2007, one of my favorite wrestlers, Chris Benoit, murdered his wife and son and then hung himself with an exercise machine wire. I realized then the world of professional wrestling is not a glamorous one. Wrestlers are chewed up and spit out, and very few are able to get away from it without severe physical or mental damage.
The Wrestler hits on this subject constantly. Mickey Rourke is truly fantastic and worthy of the accolades being hurled in his direction. He perfectly embodies the broken down Randy Robinson. He looks like he’s been through hell, and he probably has.
Unfortunately, The Wrestler closely mirrors what real life is like for a lot of the top stars of the 80s and 90s who now find themselves wrestling in bingo halls in front of 30 people because they don’t know how to do anything else. Randy never enjoys himself in this film; he’s never happy. He’s constantly looking for something: his youth, a return to the high life, his lost fame. In his heart, he knows those things are never coming back, but he presses on, because even the possibility that he’ll get another big break is a hell of a lot more enticing than spending the rest of his days as a nobody working at the local supermarket.
Randy’s entire life is one degradation after another. I imagine that once you’ve sold out Madison Square Garden and have truly been a star, it must be tough to scoop chicken salad at a deli counter for impatient geriatrics. Even when Randy is in the ring, where he thinks he’s “at home” and with “his family”, he’s playing to miniscule houses in front of bloodthirsty adolescents. Are these really the types of people you want to call your family?
Aronofsky makes great use of music in the film. The soundtrack is largely filled with hair bands from the 80s (Quiet Riot, RATT, etc.) Not only do these songs intrinsically recall the 80s, but a lot of those bands mirror Randy’s quest. We see bands like Poison and RATT reforming to play in front of 80 people at American Legion halls. We see their members go on reality TV and make complete asses of themselves. They’ve been to the top, and now that their time has passed, they’re willing to do anything to get back there, no matter how self-degrading and ugly.
The wrestling scenes are very well-done and very realistic. Randy wrestles a “hardcore” match with Necro Butcher, actually a real life wrestler. In hardcore matches, anything goes. You can hit the other guy with a pane of glass, barbed wire, thumbtacks, staples, you name it. We grimace each time Randy gets the staple gun treatment, because it looks so real (and very well might be).
The film is greatly buoyed by Rourke and Tomei’s performances. We’ve discussed Randy, and Tomei plays a stripper that eventually falls for him, after much cajoling. When Randy begins to put the pieces back together with his daughter and goes on a date with Tomei, we’re happy for him. When he finds even a modicum of enjoyment out of working at the supermarket deli, we’re ecstatic. But when he decides to take on a final match with his 80s nemesis, the Ayatollah, we’re devastated, because we know what it means for him long before the ending. It’s a credit to a great storyline and great performances.
There are some plot holes in The Wrestler, and some leaps of faith. The subplot with his daughter has great potential, but ultimately feels a little shoehorned. She hates him when he first arrives at her house and tries to reconcile with her, then he buys her a present and takes her out (and apologizes profusely for the wrongs he’s done), and she’s back on board. Then, he forgets about a dinner arrangement they’ve made and goes to her house in the middle of the night to apologize for that, and she never wants to see him again. I know she’s emotionally fragile, but even the fact that he went to her house at all to make amends should show that he has changed, or is at least making strong strides towards changing.
It’s also a credit to the film that we care so deeply about Randy, and it would have been nice to have an ending to the movie that was affirming for the audience and not just the character.
B+
Oscar nominations:
Won: TBA
Nominated: Actor (Rourke), Supporting Actress (Tomei)
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969)
Director: George Roy Hill
Principle Actors: Paul Newman, Robert Redford, Katharine Ross
I was very sad to learn of Paul Newman’s death last year, because he was one of the only actors that could excite you just by seeing his face appear on the screen. Newman has an unmistakable film presence, more powerful than Eastwood’s and perhaps rivaled only by McQueen’s (though Newman has been in better films). When Newman shows up with that never-ending twinkle in his eye and smirk on his face, you’re in for some fun.
Luckily for us, that’s the mood he sustains through the whole of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. He’s accompanied by Robert Redford, at this time a relative unknown who would go on to be one of the biggest movie stars of the 1970s. They play, well, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, a pair of smooth talking, quick shooting outlaws who rob banks and trains and prefer to use words to wriggle out of situations rather than bullets.
Butch and Sundance have robbed one train too many of Mr. E.H. Harriman, president of the Union Pacific railroad. Harriman, who is never seen on screen, hires a posse of the best lawmen and trackers in the nation to hunt down Butch and Sundance and not stop until they’ve been killed. After a few close calls and narrow escapes, Butch convinces Sundance and Sundance’s lover (Katharine Ross) to head down to Bolivia, where the banks are free for the robbing and there are no pesky lawmen to give them any trouble.
Truth be told, this film would be pretty mediocre if anyone else had been cast in these roles. The storyline is a little hollow, plot points often take a long time to develop, and at times, I thought, “This whole movie is just watching Butch and Sundance make quips and rob banks”. The only reason this boring formula works is because of how colorful Butch and Sundance are. They make the whole ordeal worthwhile.
Newman and Redford are constantly in charge in Butch and Sundance, both as actors and characters in the film. When they wink and smile and smooth talk another character, they’re doing the same to us. They’re easy to get behind and easy to root for. They’re unfazed by danger and always believe that there’s a way out of whatever predicament they’re in (and there usually is, until the very end).
This is a Western, but it’s a different kind of Western, and that’s perfectly OK. This isn’t a Clint Eastwood Western, set in a dirty, sweaty and grimy desert. This isn’t like Django, a violently over-the-top spaghetti Western. This Western has color. It’s filled with trees, streams and bushes. Even when the heroes enter areas that fit Western stereotypes, they seem to rise above their surroundings. They have a clean sheen around them, like they have a forcefield protecting them from the dirtiness and desolation around them. The Man with No Name revels in the dust and dirt; he becomes the desert. Newman and Redford merely operate in it. It’s a different take, and a refreshing one.
Newman and Redford are a lot of fun together. The Sting, which was another collaboration between the two that followed this one, is one of my favorite movies. Butch and Sundance isn’t as solid as that film is, but any chance you get to see Newman and Redford together you have to take.
B+
Oscar nominations:
Won: Cinematography, Music-Original Score, Music-Original Song, Writing-Original Screenplay
Nominated: Director, Picture, Sound
John Lacey
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