The Wrestler: My Issue

Ever since I was young I have had an overabundance of empathy for the misfortune that befalls people. Sometimes it’s a bed they made themselves, sometimes it’s circumstances beyond their own control. Whatever the situation, it makes me quite sad. Never is this a more potent feeling than when I see people who once lived in the spotlight, but now their moment has passed. Those of you who have met me and know me even a little know that my husband and I are big sci-fi geeks and as a result we often find ourselves in the position to meet the people whose work we admire. Sometimes this is a wonderful experience (see my post of meeting Robert Englund in which I became a quivering school girl) and sometimes they’re quite awful (ask me about my experience with Adam West, if you’re very brave), but often these experiences leave me quite sad. You see, when the world loves you there is nothing more beautiful than that. To see yourself reflected in the eyes of millions is, from what I understand, the most potent drug available in the marketplace today. Unfortunately, I have seen on so many occasions, what happens to people when the world is finished with them. Many an encounter has left me in tears as I see a life destroyed and a madding crowd that wants nothing more than a picture with a signature on it.

This is my issue with The Wrestler. In Mickey Rourke, Aronofsky has found a perfect specimen of “what happens to people when the world is done with them” and has used it – as I understand it – beautifully to his own purposes. I also understand that the subject of the film explores this specific issue, life after your 15 minutes. My issue, however, is what the awards shows, entertainment news shows and print publications will do with this. Already lauded as Rourke’s “comeback” and generating significant “Oscar buzz” I am certain that Aronofsky has found the perfect person to portray as ‘has-been’ who’s life is fundamentally broken searching for some meaning. But is it okay, in this entertainment addicted society we live in, to hold someone up on a pedestal *again* and then watch as the spotlight turns away and they are *again* left in the dark.

I’m not making an argument here that this movie should not have been made, nor that we should/should not make movies based on what the repercussions might be for its stars. I realize that my issue this speaks more to the industry than to this movie specifically, but every time I open a newspaper and read more hype about this movie it saddens me more. Since Hollywood has always eaten people alive this is not a new beef. It cuts deeper for me because the “stars” I meet are so often “has-beens” and they are rarely in good shape.

I’ve been very hesitant to see this movie, but everyone I say that too threatens my life if I don’t go. Someone offered to take me by the hand, lead me to the theatre and pay for my ticket. Obviously, it’s a very powerful film and I do not disagree, and I will likely see it. It just cuts a little deeper for anyone who doesn’t only care about their work, but cares about the machine actors are thrust into as a result of seeing their names in lights. Should we feel bad for them? No, probably not. They got paid for their work and many of them knew what they were getting themselves into. What kills me is the hope. Have you ever been to LA? If you have you know that it’s a whole city filled with unrealized hope. The guy selling your churros on The Pier. The girl taking your ticket at the Arclight. The guy behind the counter at In-n-Out. They ALL want to be in the movies. They ALL want their turn in the spotlight, and they crave far more than 15 minutes. At the Chinese Mann’s there is a fountain in the east corner that has a bronze plaque that with a quote from Marilyn Monroe:

“…I used to go to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and try to fit my foot in a celebrity impression, it really meant to me that anything is possible…almost.”

Chilling non?