For some time I have been cautiously anticipating Darren Aronofsky’s upcoming film “The Wrestler.” I say cautiously because, as much as I love Aronofsky’s vision of a cinematic world slightly askew, I recognize his potential for going off the rails in blind artistic rage.
I loved “The Fountain.” I found it to be one of the two best films of 2006, a unique and vigorous demand for new barriers in the cinema. Some people hated, detested it, found it a waste of celluloid, but I saw a filmmaker dissatisfied with the limits of his medium and stretching to make a different kind of film entirely.
Then again, I hated “Requiem for a Dream,” the film largely agreed upon as a testament to his considerable talents. I found it to be an embarassing display, the sophomore slump from a director clearly going places.
And of course, in “Pi,” I think many would agree that the seeds of expertise were sewn, the potential glaringly apparent.
And now we get “The Wrestler,” which will bow at the 65th annual Venice Film Festival later this month. The film stars Mickey Rourke as a professional wrestler “making his way through the independent circuit, trying to get back in the game for one final showdown with his former rival,” according to IMDb. And for some reason, it sounds like a story with a lot of potential, to say nothing of what an actor as gifted as Mickey Rourke could do with a role such as this.
No particularly new insights to be gleaned from this, but when a Limey paper
There are some major surprises in the competition