Rourke’s performance is amazing, not least for the sheer physicality that he brings to the role.  One critic wrote that the film pokes fun at wrestling.  This is incorrect – the film takes wrestling, and the harm it can do to body and soul, very seriously indeed.  Rourke plays Randy ‘the Ram’ Robinson, a 1980s ring legend whose pay-per-view days are long behind him.  Yet every weekend he still dons his costume to scrape a living fighting in front of small-time crowds.

There is a documentary style realism to the fights that vividly conveys how dangerous the sport is, whether choreographed or not.  In one scene, in the dressing room, the Ram agrees to an opponent’s request to use a staple gun during the bout.  Afterwards, we see his back covered in holes, the staples oozing blood, and cannot help but wince as a doctor cuts them out.

But it is what happens away from the ring that gives ‘The Wrestler’ its real emotional punch.  Rourke’s character has obviously had such a good time during the 80s that he is now estranged from his teenage daughter, Stephanie (Evan Rachel Wood).  Years of loneliness and a sudden heart attack after a match compel him to make amends.  “I’m an old and broken down piece of meat and I deserve to be alone” he tells her, hoping for a second chance.  Loneliness also draws him to the local strip joint where he tries to woo Cassidy (Marisa Tomei) who is also getting past her sell-by-date.

It is quickly apparent that this powerful, moving film provides no happy endings, yet it is to Rourke’s huge credit that he makes us yearn for one.  Randy is a sad but not particularly pitiable character, but Rourke embodies him with a depth of feeling that allows us to see far beyond the aging muscles and fake tan, towards a man who knows that getting the good times back is a losing battle, but one you still have to fight. The Ram has some chance of redemption towards the end of the film.  Spurned by Cassidy, rejected by his daughter, he agrees to a heavily- publicised bout with an old opponent from the glory years.  Only then do we, and perhaps Randy himself, begin to understand: once you start to fight, nothing else matters.  Cassidy implores Randy to think of his health but he gestures towards the world beyond the confines of the stadium, saying: “You know, out there’s the only place I get hurt.”