I’ve just been to see The Wrestler. Not a good choice if you’re hard of hearing (Micky Rourke has been to the Sylvester Stallone School of Speech Impediments and has graduated with a mouth full of marbles) or dislike seeing the abuse of stationery items (one of Rourke’s opponents wields a staple gun, to great gory effect I might add). Rourke is supported by the usual circus of blue-collar characters – soft-hearted hooker, man-hating daughter, bouncers, pervs and feral kids. I especially liked the cold meat counter scene where Micky struggles to conceal his hair extensions in a hairnet and then has a hissy fit and bleeds into the potato salad. If playing your washed-up, has-been self is all it takes to get an Oscar these days, then it’s probably in the bag.
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