Mickey Who?

Perhaps the last film on my to-do list should have been first: Mickey O'Rourke should be standing on the stage, giving his Oscar acceptance speech, in a short couple of weeks. If he isn't the winner for Best Actor, I will be beyond disappointed. The Wrestler is an outstanding film, and Mickey's portrayal is rock solid, but it's more than that.

The film is powerful because it is our story, the story of those of us who have had a career, whether atop the ladder or hanging onto one of the rungs. We've been there, done that, and some days it's all we can do to roll out of bed, pull on our tights, and step back into the ring. It's not just the physical punishment, although there is that, too, in the film, but it's the erosion of who we are into who we used to be while we're still pretending to live our lives.

It is said that O'Rourke did most of his own stunts, which in itself would have been brutal, but more importantly, reliving his personal triumphs and failures through the character had to be wrenching. The tears that came to his eyes, but did not fall, captured so much of what it's like to still have the burning desire within, but not being able to pull it off this time.

Where do you turn when there is nowhere to turn? You go back to the only life you know, the life that has failed you so many times before and makes no promises about this time.

Marisa Tomei's character definitely sits second chair, but she, too, becomes The Ram's failure: he can't even pick up a stripper in a strip club. Tomei is no Pretty Woman, she's a mother masquerading as a stripper, and as long as she has a costume to wear and an act to perform, she can get through another day on her way to tomorrow. These two find each other, sort of, but don't really connect, don't really have anything together because neither one is capable of that. The Ram tries, but it isn't there for him any more than anything else in his life is there for him.

The script isn't pretty, it's ugly, but so is life for most of us. We spend our days deluding ourselves that we matter, but at night, there is nowhere to hide from the truth, a reality that O'Rourke captures perfectly. I doubt that there is another actor who could have pulled off this role because in order to do it for the camera, he had to have already lived it, and in that area of expertise O'Rourke stands alone.

It's raw, it's O'Rourke, and it's real Oscar.