The Wrestler

As with most movies that have the courage to look deeply and painfully at our failed lives, The Wrestler makes a few mistakes, almost all of them by explaining explicitly what was already vividly painted on the screen in deep, dark tones. But none of these mistakes were of any consequence. This film is about loneliness, a brutal, unforgiving loneliness. It is about the surface shine of pornography. It is about death. It is deeply sad and beautiful. It takes place in New Jersey.

"These things that have comforted me I drive away. This place that is my home I cannot stay. My only faith's in the broken bones and bruises I display."

Koko: Who knew Mickey Rourke could act? Who knew Darren Aronofsky would make a movie about wrestling and not transcendent fountains or math? His fourth film falls about one hug short of nauseous redemption, which makes the sick, sad, gloomy trip back to proud mediocrity all the more moving and artistic. Fantastic stuff. On a related note, when will Aronofsky begin his adaptation of Infinite Jest? Well, never. But how about that, huh? That would be cool.