THE WRESTLER

Gene Siskel is often quoted by his surviving partner as saying "It's not what a movie is about, it's how it's about what it's about."

I mention this because of the woman who sat in front of me when I saw THE WRESTLER last night. She was obviously there as a favor to her boyfriend, who was already paying the price by listening to her say things like "If this is one of your ROCKY BALBOA things or another KARATE KID I'm making you go see CONFESSIONS OF A SHOP-A-HOLIC with me when it comes out."

Charming!

I feel good for the guy, actually, because by the end of THE WRESTLER his shrewish lady-friend was just as affected as the rest of us in the audience, and I think he got out of having to watch a spunky chick buy boots for 90 minutes.

What THE WRESTLER is about has been done before. How it is done this time is pretty much perfection.

Mickey Rourke is Randy "The Ram" Robinson; a professional wrestler who has fallen out of the limelight since the late 80's when he was in his prime. He still wrestles, but it's not in the arenas and stadiums any more. Mostly it's high-school and civic center auditorium bouts. Places where hard-core fans still show up and pay $10 a head to see musclebound characters "pretend" to beat the shit out of each other in (and out of) the ring. Sure, wrestling is "fake"- the athletes are shown in their makeshift dressing rooms discussing the outcome of the fights and working out details with each other. But the hits they are taking are still real hits. The chairs to the head and the drops from the turnbuckle still take it's toll on the human body, and Randy's body is just about all used up.

The guy is a walking junkyard, figuratively and literally. His face is ripped, scarred and swollen. His body is still pumped up, but his skin is starting to look puffy and leathery from years and years of tanning and toning. He's using steroids and enhancers. He needs a hearing aid. He's dying and highlighting his stringy 80's hairdo. He's falling apart.

Randy lives for the rush he gets in the ring. He is a pile of hamburger, but it's worth it when he's flying through the air and tossing an opponent over his shoulders. But during a particularly horrifying exhibition match, something terrible happens to him, and THE WRESTLER is the story of how he tries to cope with losing the only thing he still has in his life.

My wife is a tremendous fan of movies about misfits and losers who manage to find kindred spirits and come together. One of the first movies we ever saw together was BOOGIE NIGHTS and it touched her that so many lost souls could find a safe place to be themselves. She has an affection for ED WOOD for the same reason, and a slew of other "loveable losers" who find a way to cope with the harsh realities of not fitting in.

What is most poignant about THE WRESTLER is that it's titular character isn't the lovable loser. He's a hard-headed bull of a man. He never found anywhere to fit in after his fall from grace. He can't cope with any sort of reality. Without wrestling, he has nothing.

Randy knows a stripper, played in an Oscar-worthy performance by Marisa Tomei. She's exactly like him: aging, in over her head, losing the ability to effectively do what she knows how to do. We first see her attempting to please a group of young bachelor-party revelers who are openly insulting her for being so old. She insists that she can still get the job done, but they are only interested in being crass. Randy identifies with it and tries to help. But he's just another guy, and Cassidy's "rules of conduct" force her to keep him at a distance.

As a person who's worked in a strip club and seen women attempt to make a living competing every night for the attention of clients, let me just say that I have never seen a more realistic depiction of a topless dancer on film before in my life. Tomei knows about the subtlety of being polite to men who have cash, and she knows how and when to let someone in long enough to feel special. Most importantly, she thinks she has the ability to put a stop to someone getting TOO close to her. Most strippers who have been around the block end up seeing a customer outside of the club at least once, and it almost always turns out the way it does here. Real and raw and forlorn.

There is a sub-plot involving Randy's estranged daughter that feels forced, at first. And contrived after a second encounter. It takes patience and a willingness to appreciate how it resolves itself to put the rest of it in perspective.

Has anyone said enough about how amazing Rourke is in this thing? I am a long-complaining curmudgeon when it comes to people heaping praise on a movie solely for an actor's performance in it. In this case, Rourke carries the weight of the film on his shoulders. It would truly be nothing without him. This isn't a case of a bad script or a plot-driven story with a single noteable performance. This is a beaten, nearly broken-down old warhorse who has made a decision to play a beaten, nearly broken-down old warhorse. He deserves every word of praise that he has been given for this.

This is a terrific movie. It's rife with metaphor (the title alone suggest more than just the profession of the main character). THE WRESTLER is the kind of film you would have seen in the 1970's at the height of Hollywood's "Second Age", when character pieces and studies of human behavior took precedent over special effects and catch-phrases. Director Aronofsky and cinematographer Maryse Alberti capture some amazing and legendary iconic moments that will be discussed in years to come. Everyone will comment and mention the moment where The Ram walks through the "backstage" and emerges into his new profession. I found some subtle glory in some more personal moments as well, though. Randy flipping his daughter's photo over and revealing a string of phone numbers; The expression on Cassidy's face when she sees what he goes through in the ring. The harrowing moment of relization that crosses Rourke's beaten, weathered face while he lies crouched in the woods, unable to even jog any more without it hurting.

THE WRESTLER proves that you can make an effective, moving, emotional story without resorting to cheap reaction shots and orchestral cues on the soundtrack. It shows that you can tell a story that you have seen before, but tell it in a way that makes you wonder what will happen next, even though it might be obvious. And it earns its' ending. That's all I will say about that. Sure, it's a wee bit exploitive... predictable, and a touch melodramatic.

But so is professional wrestling.



NOTE: I tried not to be crass in this review because it's rare that I see and enjoy a movie that I feel has been over-hyped. But it seriously bears mentioning that Marisa Tomei is easily one of the most beautiful actresses working in film today. A lot has been said about her decision to appear nude in this movie. All I can say is that when you look that incredible at 43, you should show off as much as you want.

Who?

I think I'm beginning to sympathize with my wife.

The back-story:

One of my strict requirements when I am dating someone is that she is attractive to me. I can't tell you how many times I have passed up a wonderful opportunity at a long-term relationship based solely on the fact that I was not in any way, shape or form attracted to my would-be companion.

My Lovely Wife™ (at the time, still My Lovely Girlfriend™) had the edge and good fortune to be very attractive to me. I met her in '98 while Living The Dream as a DJ in glorious Alabama. We hit it off and things progressed quickly.

Several weeks into our new found love affair we got on the subject of celebrity look-alikes. I mentioned that in my college years, I got quite a bit of flack for looking a heck of a lot like Jim Carrey. I'm spoiled and egotistical enough to assume that THIS is why I didn't get a lot more choice dramatic roles in college (it had NOTHING to do with my lack of talent, or course). By the time Alison had come into the picture, I was starting to put on some weight (you can't be a radio personality without consuming McDonald's and Wendy's at least twice a day. It's a law, look it up) and the illusion was fading, thankfully. I have never been a tremendous fan of Mr. Carrey, and although I admire the man for becoming famous by pretending to talk out of his butt, I had hoped that I would achieve fame and fortune without resorting to impersonating the guy. The extra tonnage was helping.

I asked my wife rather innocently if she was told she ever looked like anyone famous. I had posed the question because I was about to remark on the fact that she resembled Olive Oyle, complete with the "OoOoOH!" noises she made when she got flustered. She rolled her eyes and said "Yes! And I was surprised I didn't hear it from you sooner!"

I was all set to say "Aw Popeye!" in a shrill falsetto when she drew her head back and said "I can't believe they forgot my fucking birthday."

I hadn't seen the Molly Ringwald resemblance at ALL until then, but for the past decade I can't watch anything she's in without thinking I am looking at my wife, to a degree. I could do with the red hair, but Alison is a brunette. And I'm sure that if My Lovely Wife™ made as much cash as Ms. Ringwald has on hand, life would be better too. Because the only thing that is important in the world is money, kids. Write that down.

Okay, so when I was enjoying The Salad Days with my significant other, I was content to have a rapidly-fading resemblance to a bombastic physical comic with double joints, and I was more than pleased to be sharing a bed with a woman who looked like a member of The Breakfast Club.

But then "adulthood" stepped in. And by "adulthood" I mean 50 pounds. And by 50 pounds, I mean I have become a big fat bastard.

I'm not HUGE, mind you. But I am definitely not 170 pounds of combustible sex any more, either. Okay, I'm huge. Dammit.

That's the back-story.

Today, for the tenth time, someone has out-of-the-blue stopped me and told me that I remind them of Seth Rogan.

Seth. Rogan. The fat guy from KNOCKED UP. And PINEAPPLE EXPRESS. The huge Jewish guy with curly hair and a big fat chin who is hilarious, I will admit, but who looks NOTHING LIKE ME.

I mean really? Seth Rogan? I don't see the voice, the hair, the mouth, nothing. And yet on TEN SEPARATE FUCKING OCCASIONS I have been told by strangers that I look like him, or I have been asked if I AM him, because why WOULDN'T Seth Rogan be living in Nashville and working as a Graphics Designer who drives a Civic?

I think I preferred being Jim Carrey.

... I think I forgot my point.

REVOLUTIONARY TURD

I guess I just don't get it.

According to the marketing campaign, the movie is a "searing portrait of the human spirit being crushed by the mediocrity of day-to-day experiences". If I understand the reviews correctly, the film "dares to reveal the dark side of The American Dream." It "skillfully and deftly handles the unmentionable anguish of living in the 20th Century." They even gave Kate a trophy at The Golden Globes for it. And she might win an Oscar.

REVOLUTIONARY ROAD sucked. It sucked long, and it sucked hard. Watching Leo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet try to play a 30something couple mired in the dull, lifeless futility of suburban 'bliss' circa 1959 was like watching a high school drama club attempt to capture the world-weariness and bile-soaked venom of WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF. The dialogue was written by a person who has never heard dialogue spoken by an actor in any kind of production. It is delivered by people who were told to act more angry with their lot in life than they could possibly conceive of actually experiencing. The plot was predictable to the point of being a parody of itself. The fact that they felt it necessary to include scenes where a mental patient spells out the misery that our protagonists are mired in was laughably insulting. Nobody delivered a single line that sounded genuine. REVOLUTIONARY ROAD sucked.

I have a longstanding issue with movies that are hyped by the production company and sold to the American Public as being "avant-garde" and "a new and exciting look" at the way stories are told. Particularly when what we are actually seeing is packaged as a vehicle for the stars who are involved in it. REVOLUTIONARY ROAD thinks it is something bigger than it is, and I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't as predictable and worn-out.

Questions for those who have seen it and feel that they have seen something incredible:

1- Could you have gotten the same message from this film without Michael Shannon's character ever appearing in it?

2- Did you think for even a moment that Leo "Babyface" DiCaprio ever came across as a man in his late 20's/early 30's? Or that he delivered a SINGLE LINE of dialogue that sounded convincing or was in any way a piece of non-exposition?

3- Was there any doubt in anyone's mind that any affairs would NOT occur? That the ending would NOT play out that way? Was ANYTHING that happened a surprise? And if so, HAVE YOU WATCHED A MOVIE BEFORE IN YOUR LIFE?

4- Could they make Kate Winslet look ANY more haggard or fuck-faced? I understand that they wanted her to be stressed... to look "fallen" to a degree. But she looks like a fucking MAN in this movie. She looks more manly than DiCaprio. Christ.

I felt insulted and angry at the end of this movie. I felt like I had been spoon-fed something that might have been more complex and rich if it had taken the time to be subtle. I burst out laughing when the blood hit the carpet.

The movie sucks. If you enjoyed it then good for you, but I'd like to know why you didn't feel like you were being pandered to. And I would like to know why you have never read or seen WHO'S AFRAID OF VIRGINIA WOOLF, THE WILD PARTY, THE LOST WEEKEND, MAD MEN, AMERICAN BEAUTY (proof the filmmaker IS capable of doing this stuff correctly the first time), or any other piece of work written between 1955 and the present that deals with couples who want to be more than what they are.

What a mess. REVOLUTIONARY ROAD sucked.

The Catch-Up Thing

FIFTEEN EXCITING BITS OF INFORMATION ABOUT ME, AS OF JANUARY, 2009

1- I over-use the all-caps feature!

2- The Nintendo Wii is a fine, fine game system if you have any grudges against your rotator cuff. Failure to use your strap will result in dents in the drywall. Oopsie.

3- My mother and stepfather are LOOPY NUTS about the HBO Series THE WIRE, which My Lovely Wife™ and I bought them for Christmas. YOU should be too.

4- I was sick as a dog over the holidays. Hence: no blogging. In addition, nothing funny happened to me for a while. Unless you could being sick as a dog as "funny". If so, fuck you. During my illness, I overdosed on codeine and booze, and I had the most trippy experience I have ever had in my adult life. I was loopy on narcotics in the guest room of my father and stepmother (see, Ginny? I describe it like that now)'s house. Ever trip balls in your parents home? Legally? Crikey!

5- We got our log-in date! As of November 17, 2006 My Lovely Wife™ and I are logged into The People's Republic Of China's adoption database. What does that mean? It means we wait. We wait and wait and wait, and hopefully we get a letter someday that says "Come get this to-go order. Twenty minute. No checks. You want soy sauce?"

6- Thanks to the magic of my mate Mike (alliteration! swish!), a short cartoon that I lent my voice to will be featured on IFC. Want more info? So do I. Details are a-comin'.

7- We now have a built-in "cat box box" in our garage. This means that we have a large wooden box sticking out of out garage wall and there is a pet door in our laundry room. Our little bastards go through a pet door into the box and use the litter boxes in there. What does this mean to us? No more cat litter all over the laundry room! And no more smells! And no more split ends! What does this mean to you? Nothing. Let's move on.

8- If you have been living in Nashville and NOT attending the Belcourt's midnight movie series, you have missed out on a BOUNTY of movies that you can otherwise only see if you have basic cable! Last weekend I enjoyed a 35mm print of THE KARATE KID in glorious screen-o-vision! And two weeks before that? BACK TO THE FUTURE. GREAT SCOTT!



9- Speaking of cinema- a lot of folks have asked me what my pick has been for the Best Movie Of 2008. And by "a lot of folks" I mean "one". And by "one" I mean "nobody". Regardless, I'd like to announce that my official choice for the best movie of 2008 is the Swedish thriller LET THE RIGHT ONE IN. An incredibly well-told story about a lonely 12 year-old boy who is on the verge of snapping and lashing out at his bullies, and a strange 12 year-old named Eli who comes into his life when they both need a friend. It's moody, grotesque, deep, cathartic and mesmerizing. Good news for the morons in the world, the film has already been bought up and is in the process of being adapted for American audiences by the guys who brought you CLOVERFIELD and LOST. Here's an idea- see this movie before they fuck it up.



10- I have nothing for #10

11- Have I mentioned how sore my shoulder is? Damn Wii. Damn Wii Sports. Damn drywall.

12- Here's a photo of two ladybugs humping. JEALOUS?



13- SPEAKING of hot sex-on-film action... well, not really... here is a photo that I posted on Flickr. It's of My Lovely Wife. She is playing with the cats and looking, well... in MY opinion, she's looking just plain adorable. And by "adorable" I mean "hot". And by "hot" I mean HOLY CRAP LOOK AT HER CLEAVAGE.



I put it on my photos page and added the following tags to it: "Wife", "Candid", "Cats".

It got 2... maybe 3 hits in 6 hours.

So as a lark... just to "see" what would happen, I added three more tags to it: "Sexy", "Downblouse" and "Cleavage"...

In less than 24 hours the photo got 10,496 hits. HEY INTERNET! STAY CREEPY!

14- I'm almost done with this post.

15- ... ... ... ... done!

REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA

Last night I saw REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA at The Belcourt. I would like to extend my apologies and a hearty "well done" to everyone whom I asked to come along with me to see it and refused. You chose wisely.

"Hey there 16 year-old clove-smoking upper-middle class private school students! Do your parents not GET IT, MAAAAN? Does the sound of My Chemical Romance accurately express your anger at Fox for canceling [i]Buffy[/i]? Have you ever wondered if a major studio would produce a movie full of songs with lyrics that rival the poetry you post on your MySpace blog? Would you like to see what Evanescence sees when she is wacked out on hoppers and she's strap-on-fucking Gwen Stefani with a dildo shaped like Jack Skellington? Well come on out and see REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA! It'll make you feel like you felt when you watched MOULIN ROUGE with your older sister and she made fun of you for crying!"




Hey look! It's Paris Hilton, appearing as a whorish rich girl addicted to plastic surgery! Fuck you, REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA. Fuck you.

On the bright side, it's only January 16th and I have already gotten the worst movie I can see all year over and done with.