A movie about a professional wrestler is ironically a slice of life tale about a relatable, down to earth, common man. A universal theme of a man who's seen his prime come and go. A man trying to reconcile age with his profession, reconnect with his estranged daughter and form some sort of relationships and romance. Despite being of this extravagantly, oddly, special profession of a wrestler, everyday people will relate to the earthiness felt in this tale and moodily connect with the wintry nowhere Jersey.
We become exposed to the insides of the wrestling world, the fakeness of it, as we watch the "combatants" shake hands and fraternize before and after the bout, and the brutal realism of it, of the excruciatingly painful (even to watch) consensual physical torture just in order to get a rise out of the crowd.
The story doesn't amount to much but it is the art of realism. Effectively filmed like a reality show or home video with a shaky lower budget camera which gave the feeling of rawness, grittiness and simplicity taking us to the Wrestler's level. Simplicity in a movie can be profoundly powerful. But it must not get too simple where substance will be forfeited. This movie just toted that line and rose slightly above the "too simple" threshold.
The poetic feel of an earthy bluesiness transpires from such scenes as when the father and daughter as they try to reconnect stroll along the isolated boardwalks in the wintry Jersey beach. We are enveloped by a delightful melancholy as we become warmed by these soft scenes and the character's gentleness and heart. These scenes contrast dramatically to the wrestling matches and the character's size and identity and underlying macho-ism.
There are some flaws such as lack of development with the supporting characters. You especially wanted to know and feel more for Marisa Tomei's part and the lack of development in her character made it feel a bit empty. It seems far fetched that a Pro wrestler, one with a fan base, supposedly big star decades ago, with posters and action figures, that this larger than life "idol?", is so destitute that he has to live in a trailer (granted I am not familiar with pro wrestler's economic situation). . Maybe this should have been explained more, did he squander all his money, does he not make that much, does he not care to spend it?
The flaws don't scathe the root of the movie, like the pleasure derived when listening to the husky, raw voice of a great blues musician craning out the simplest lyrics, which is the art and poetry of realism
We become exposed to the insides of the wrestling world, the fakeness of it, as we watch the "combatants" shake hands and fraternize before and after the bout, and the brutal realism of it, of the excruciatingly painful (even to watch) consensual physical torture just in order to get a rise out of the crowd.
The story doesn't amount to much but it is the art of realism. Effectively filmed like a reality show or home video with a shaky lower budget camera which gave the feeling of rawness, grittiness and simplicity taking us to the Wrestler's level. Simplicity in a movie can be profoundly powerful. But it must not get too simple where substance will be forfeited. This movie just toted that line and rose slightly above the "too simple" threshold.
The poetic feel of an earthy bluesiness transpires from such scenes as when the father and daughter as they try to reconnect stroll along the isolated boardwalks in the wintry Jersey beach. We are enveloped by a delightful melancholy as we become warmed by these soft scenes and the character's gentleness and heart. These scenes contrast dramatically to the wrestling matches and the character's size and identity and underlying macho-ism.
There are some flaws such as lack of development with the supporting characters. You especially wanted to know and feel more for Marisa Tomei's part and the lack of development in her character made it feel a bit empty. It seems far fetched that a Pro wrestler, one with a fan base, supposedly big star decades ago, with posters and action figures, that this larger than life "idol?", is so destitute that he has to live in a trailer (granted I am not familiar with pro wrestler's economic situation). . Maybe this should have been explained more, did he squander all his money, does he not make that much, does he not care to spend it?
The flaws don't scathe the root of the movie, like the pleasure derived when listening to the husky, raw voice of a great blues musician craning out the simplest lyrics, which is the art and poetry of realism