The Wrestler is one of the most profoundly sad movies I've seen, and I mean that as high praise. It isn't sad in obvious ways, with unfortunate events or bad turns of fate (though such occurences do figure in, just not loudly stated). It all hinges on just getting to know a man: Randy 'The Ram' Robinson, a professional wrestler who is well past his heyday. He's not someone looking for a shot or who could've been a contender -- he was big and famous, but now the prime has past, the money's gone, and he's still doing the same gig but for smaller arenas. He doesn't know how to do anything else.

The story is sad because Randy's (Mickey Rourke) situation is a common one, where life hands you fish, even teaches you how to fish and to really enjoy fishing, but when the pond runs dry, you've got no other recourse than just to keep fishing. Frankly, Randy probably would've been glad to wrestle for the rest of his days, even if he has to work harder at it now -- the pay is less, the style of wrestling more brutal (he now works in "Combat Zone Wrestling"-type performances, where they use actual body mutilation to enhance the "realism" of the fights), and he continues to use substances to maintain his physique and deal with his pain -- but eventually he runs into a health concern that dictates he must end his career. Having to leave this world, where he's something of a respected hero, is like leaving home forever, but the writing had always been on the wall. Perhaps now he'll have the chance to address other issues in his life, and resolve some loose ends for himself. If there was any satisfaction lacking from his career, here's the chance to fill in those empty spaces. Right?

Well, as we all expect, it's not that easy, and what makes The Wrestler even sadder involves how likable Randy is. He's a very simple man, an old broken-down war horse who looks like he's never meant anyone real harm, who enjoys the few pleasures he has, even if they're all from the '80s and outdated. His characterization is a powerful achievement by Rourke in a performance that gives layers of dimension to such a common kind of guy. The embodiment is remarkable -- we know him and we can feel his thoughts, his regrets, his fears, his loneliness. The  absolute key to the movie's success is that it's mainly one actor playing one man in a way that we can join him inside his skin, and that's all the movie needs to be about, just pure pathos.

The situations in The Wrestler share the simplicity of the protagonist because to make them any more complex would to be dishonest, unreal. He takes a shine to a stripper (Marisa Tomei) at his favorite club, and his attempts to get to know her better are only made more awkward by her insistence that she doesn't socialize with customers. Randy also has an estranged daughter (Evan Rachel Wood) whom he's obviously neglected, and he would like to correct that relationship. Nothing fancy. And yet these are challenging obstacles for him as life has not given him the proper preparations to be able to gracefully play out his good intentions, his attempts at meaningful connections.

The movie turns out to be a great showcase for the versatility of its director, Darren Aronofsky. His previous movies all had a slickness to them -- they were full of cinematic tricks, like Requiem for a Dream's visual gimmicks and The Fountain's baffling multi-threaded story starring one actor as three different people or not. But underneath the surface, there was always a concern for the humanity of his characters, their everyday sufferings, concerns, and struggles against the forces of life they were not prepared to deal with, such as addiction and loss. In The Wrestler, most of that surface trickery is wiped away. A few long tracking shots are served up for interest, but otherwise the movie is on the level of its subject -- barebones, straightforward, nothing to hide or obscure. Aronofsky is interested in this one person, and how the whole of his life could be summed up in the moments covered by the film, trapped as it is in one of life's little containers.

Randy reminds me of those flash-in-the-pan people  who have gained some measure of success (especially in show business) and now still cling to those bits of fame as the only claim to their current meal tickets. There are plenty of aging stars and has-been celebrities who don't know how to move on, may not want to move on, or only know how to do the one thing they think they're good at. Randy may be that pathetic, and yet there's something to him to raise him up, even if just a little -- a sense of dignity that he's sure he has the right to retain. For all the mistakes he makes and the limitations he has, this makes him just that much more admirable, makes his story just that much more worth telling, and, yes, makes his movie just that much sadder.

(Released by Fox Searchlight and rated "R" for violence, sexuality/nudity, language and some drug use.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com