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Let's talk about Mickey Rourke. No, not his facial scarring or his heinous plastic surgeries. Let's talk bod. Hot bod. Top shelf bod. That's right, Rourke pulled out all the stops in his latest Oscar worthy film, The Wrestler.
This review is primarily for my younger brother. When I queued this movie, I wasn't sold. I usually wait until mainstream flicks hit the backburner before I try them myself. Still, I thought it couldn't hurt to give it a try.
I'm hoping that after he reads this (if he hasn't already seen it) he'll check it out.
Gone are the days of sitting in the den watching WWF and WCW...drooling over Shawn "Boy Toy" Michaels or crying over the death of Owen Hart. He had the figurines, the Nintendo games, everything a wrestling fan would need. His favorite wrestler was the Undertaker...mine too. We loved the moment when the entire coliseum would pause as he flung back his sweat drenched hair to face his opponent. We were too young for the Hulk, but we still showed him love.
All those cheesy faux fight memories came back as soon as the movie began.

The Wrestler follows Randy, "the Ram" as he struggles to live day to day in his post wrestling fame. The film gives a documentary feel at times, others it is simply raw and in your face--so much like the wrestler himself. Trying to control myself after realizing Rourke's age coupled with his amazing body, I did find myself enjoying this film and relating to the characters. He fiercely battles with his feelings of nostalgia and longing for his time in the spotlight. I found that Randy and I share the same lost love for hair bands, as he seems to be the only dork in the bar singing along with Ratt's Round and Round...something only I would do.
Of course it's packaged with the usual cliches, but overall it was a pretty real flick. Most anyone who has had their "hey day" in some form or other (even old, broken down bareback riders) will instantly connect with Randy.