The Wrestler

I hope there are others out there who have seen The Wrestler so at least they can understand the unrequited love I'm about to lavish on this movie. For everyone else -- go see The Wrestler. It's the best movie I've seen in years, a pure character study, a movie that hasn't made me feel this way about a fictional movie character since Half Nelson. Plus, it's also crushingly sad. Always a good combination. For the people who have seen the movie, continue below.

***Warning: Spoilers Below***

I am a short story lover. What struck me so clearly about The Wrestler when it was over was how much like a short story it is, in structure, form, and arc. Specifically, the scope of the plot is not very wide, and little to nothing really happens from beginning to end, in terms of significant character movement. Main character Randy "The Ram" Robinson wrestles. A health complication severely limits his wrestling way of life. He tries to amend his relationship with his daughter, but fails. He tries to start a relationship with a stripper named Cassidy, but fails, in a different way. Randy goes back to wrestling, and literally gives his life to it. Yes, The Ram dies, which is a rather big plot moment, but his death feels more like a natural progression rather than a turn in the story. His death happens off screen, is heavily implied, and is an infinitely more graceful note than "oh my god the main character has just kicked the bucket, which is your cue to cry your eyes out" type of ending. There's no cheap trick. There's no smoke and mirrors. The way the piece is structured, it couldn't have ended any other way without being less than perfect. (And personally speaking, the ending is perfect.)

This is what's so unique about The Wrestler. It has such an economy of story and a control of scope that appears in so many great short stories -- "Cathedral" by Raymond Carver comes to mind. It gets you caring about the little characters and the little things. Did you ever think you'd find yourself getting teary-eyed for an over-the-hill professional wrestler, whose body has been abused by men the size of linebackers and countless steroids and drugs, who frequents a strip bar enough to be known by name, who hasn't seen his daughter in years, maybe decades?

Nothing life changing or revolutionary ends up happening in the end. But in a story like this, that's the way it's supposed to be, right? There's a place for the movie or book, where the teacher inspires the school against all odds, or where the leader compels his people to successfully overthrow the tyrant, or where the good guys emphatically triumph over the bad guys. Those are good stories, long stories, epic stories. But there are so few stories like The Wrestler. A true short story. A story modest in scope and breadth, but more than makes up in depth and heart. A story that possesses an inevitability without cheapness, and shows us a man who ultimately decides to die for the one thing he's ever truly loved in his life, something that has in turn, however cruelly, has always loved him back, because he's never known any other way. To change would be too hard, and to change would be a completely different kind of story.